My husband I and had promised each other weeks before our trip that we wouldn’t allow the placebo effect to set in once J.R. had received the stem cell treatment. If I had any delusions I could actually walk around without electron microscope strength glasses observing J.R.’s every last move, they were quickly tossed aside after J.R. yelled out “mommy, my boobies are getting wet in the pool” the night of his last treatment. Had J.R. noticed his boobies before? Did I really just write that last sentence?
Because I knew there was no possible way I wasn’t about to NOT park myself, pad and pen straight up J.R.’s rear, I tried my best to control the less psychotic influences in his life. I was not about to inform his teacher and therapists that we were seeking stem cell treatment; they were bound to see something in J.R. that was not really there if J.R. performed a classroom miracle (i.e., taking more than one obligatory bite of his lunch). To distract these professionals from noticing their tiny prodigy would be absent for three weeks, I told them we would be taking a dream vacation and bringing J.R. with us. Ok let’s face it, I’d be dreaming if I thought I would actually get any vacation for the next ten years, so I hadn’t stretched the truth all that much.
Of course as any “Kristi” laid out plan would proceed, the scheme had a few flaws. Number one I think I emailed the blog address to his ABA therapist by mistake. Oh yeah, hi Ms. Carolina; keep up the good work. I also realized that J.R. would only be spending about another month with his B-E-L-O-V-E-D Pre-K teacher. No stem cell parents have reported changes in their child in less than two months, so why would I keep this amazing experience from Ms. W?
It’s all good, because on the homefront the placebo effect is well, to quote 80’s rap, in “full effect.” To add to the fun, my husband and I have developed a “look” that we exchange every time we observe J.R. doing something “out of the ordinary”. Okay who am I kidding, the kid farts and the looks fly, which translate into “STOP THINKING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE THINKING WHICH ONLY STARTS ME THINKING…WAS IT THE STEM CELLS…? PARKAY? I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S NOT BUTTER!”
We just can’t help ourselves. Put yourself in our shoes (Reef Sandals)…imagine purchasing a big ticket item on Ebay knowing that it may or may not turn out to be the Prada (oops I mean product) you were expecting. Oh yeah, and you sent the seller cash in the mail. Tell me you wouldn’t be all over your package delivery provider like white on rice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!* Okay I’m pretty sure that analogy made zero sense, so be sure to read the disclaimer below.
Dr. Seuss warned us; we’ve found ourselves in the Waiting Place. Do I make myself clear now? If not I have a reading assignment for you.
My point is that the placebo effect is impossible to control. Can we attribute any of J.R.’s following behaviors to the stem cell treatment? Who the freak knows. What I do know is what I’ve thought all along- J.R. has been involved in so many interventions, so we may never figure out if there’s that one magic bullet (or if it will ever hit him). We know we are just infinitely lucky we have the opportunity to try such treatments.
Ok here it goes- the Top 10 Things J.R. Has Done to Prompt The “Look”
10. He uses the word “another,” as in “Jack, find another car to play with.” Then again, he’s named his favorite Lightning McQueen car ‘Nother Car.
9. He learned how to ride a Razor scooter in 3 minutes flat. He’s got 6 gashes to prove it and tolerated a Band Aid (which we thought would stop the hemorrhaging) for a full 12 seconds (a new record).
8. He uses all the nicknames for his little brother that we use, understanding that they all mean “Jack.” “Tons of Fun” is not one of them, so we think that J.R. may be developing his sensitivity chip.
7. He says “cheese” and smiles for the camera. Need I remind you I recently paid a small fortune for a professional photographer to capture one of FIVE photos I own of J.R. making genuine eye contact (see blog pic). I can hear him half way down the block, on his Razor, calling out “cheese.” I hope he will soon figure out he has to remain in FRONT of the camera for the photo op to become an op.
6. He asks where his brother has gone, to mean "mom, get your head out of your ass and start parenting." Inevitably my two year old will wander off into the neighbor’s landscaping the minute I turn away; J.R. answers himself with a stock “into Bob’s bush,” but hey at least the kid finally acknowledges his brother’s existence!
5. He climbed to the VERY TOP of the Burger King playground habitrail. He has never done this. Jack followed him right up, instantly loaded his pants, and clogged the line causing me to have to weave MY sweaty self all the way to the top and rescue J.R. from certain death by noxious fumes. You should have heard the parents applaud.
4. He calms himself. We’ve longed for J.R. to develop coping mechanisms- his anxiety can be through the roof. Now he says things like “it’s okay, it’s all better, it’s gone, etc.”
3. As we speak J.R. is battling a temperature, and today he told us that he wanted to feel better. WOW!
2. He exceeded a professional’s expectations. Last week his ABA therapy supervisor observed him actually reading (vs. recalling from his freakish rote memory) 4th and 5th grade level words. My husband watched her jaw drop via closed circuit TV. Priceless. Actually, pricey but who's counting?
1. He told us what he did at school. Last Friday J.R. came home (in his $40 shirt) covered with silver paint. We are trying not to speak for J.R. or prompt his answers, so instead of saying “did you paint today?” my husband said “what did you do today?” J.R. quickly responded with “I painted an octopus at school today daddy.” Imagine my surprise when on Monday he came home with a silver octopus (which I am getting silver plated).
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*this scenario in no way, shape, or form resembles my experience trolling for Michael Kors bags or Highwayman paintings on a certain popular auction website.
