Leo Clement

Ever have those days when you feel lucky? So lucky in fact, that it's almost like you drank a lucky potion. Maybe not something as potent as Potter's Felix Felicis potion, but some kind of brew that makes your happy gauge go up and up. It doesn't just happen in books you know. Sometimes it isn't something that you did; it has something to do with who you are with. Perhaps it's just being around a lucky kinda person who gives off second-hand luck. I always thought I was the more unlucky kind. Never won raffles or contests, or even the better party favors. So when I look at the little son that God decided to give us, I feel my lucky gauge shoot through the roof. He was just born lucky. The fact that he was born at all is luck. Luck mixed in with lots and lots of faith. Perhaps luck and faith are one in the same, but whatever it was and is that gives our Leo man his magic, it rubs off on the rest of us. I don't think that the luck extends to a lottery ticket howeve

For one half of the parents and children of this world, development and hitting milestones is no big deal. Heck, I even know some parents who gripe about their kids reaching milestones, because, gee now they have to work harder at baby-proofing or keeping their kid from doing something crazy. Like plunging down the stairs on to their heads. Or I have heard folks say: I don't know why I was in such a hurry to get so and so to start talking, now I can't get the squirt to shut up! A year ago, I too was such a parent. And now I want to take the time to apologize to all the special needs parents that I now have the privilege to know, and say, that my only excuse is that I was a total ignoramus with no clue about life. There, now that that's out of the way, I want to tell all you parents of neuro-typical kids to stop your griping. Are you nuts? Holding your kid BACK? Now that is a concept that just doesn't compute with me. If your baby can crawl, help him walk. If he can wal

Today Leo had another quickbrain MRI scan and a follow up meeting with his surgical team. The neurosurgeon and the plastic surgeon were super excited to see how Leo's head, (and the rest of him too) have developed and changed. This time Justin got to climb into the MRI machine and hold his head still while the infernal machine clanked and fog horned around them. I could hear Leo shrieking all the way down the hall. Can't say I blame him! Anyway he calmed down pretty quick once it was all over and he got his toy and paci back. I hope that some day he will get used to it, since I imagine he will be climbing into MRI units for the rest of his life. Even though we, as always, get butterflies and sweaty palms when we do this whole routine because of our (slight) PTSD, his docs came into the room beaming. We knew the boy was doing great, and now the slides prove it! The fluid under the skin is 100% gone and the small pockets inside his brain haven't changed since the last scan,

The swelling is gone. Within a couple days, the waters under Leo man's scalp have gone! What a biazare thing. Just like the mad rivers that flooded our little towns after Irene receded in a matter of a day, so the same with little dude. We spent today coming up with adjectives to describe his "new" head. Not a cone head or tower head anymore, but more like a square head? Sponge Bud Square Head! It's very interesting to see now what they managed to change, and what stayed the same. Like his funky cowlick on the back top part of his head. Don't think I would have lost sleep over that being gone... In any case, it is a HUGE improvement over what his head used to be like. Wow! Although it still takes a conscious effort on my part to take off his hats in public. I think I can I think I can! Leo himself is definitely feeling the freedom of the relieved weight. He can now hold his head on his own, with very minimal support on his trunk while sitting up, and even stan

There he is! Just absolutely could not resist sharing this with you all! Leo is surprising us every day with his big heart, and yes, totally goofy personality. There ain't a single thing wrong with this kid, and I really couldn't care less what those darn scans say. He's got all he needs.

One day, in 1955, a man changed our world. One man who desperately loved his son, embarked on a race against time to save his life. This man, John Holter, had a dream, a vision of an answer to his son's life threatening condition, and he took that dream in both hands to shape it and make it real. This one man, who now has saved thousands upon thousands of children, but was not able to save his own. Instead of succumbing to grief and despair, he used his emotions to fuel his search for the answer. And in 1956 the first John Holter shunt was installed into a child, successfully treating his hydrocephalus . It is estimated that 15,000 valves based on Holter’s design are installed every year in the United States alone. There are over 36,000 shunt surgeries per year in the U.S. Before Holter's invention, the parents of these 36,000 children, would be getting ready to watch their children die. John Holter was not a doctor. He was trained as an engineer and worked as a tech in a hydr