Over two years ago, I wrote a post about my fourth son and how we were starting a growth hormone treatment for him. I don’t think I ever referred to it again. Now, two years later, we have seen so much progress that I thought I would record it.
The Comedian, as he is known on this blog, was always a tiny child. Our pediatricians always thought he was fine despite my questions. It didn’t help that my third son, The Engineer, who is The Comedian’s first cousin by birth, was and is physically the opposite. I always say that they are ten weeks and forty pounds apart. It still holds true, but when they were little, that was a Lot of size difference.
Luck (?) was on our side when The Comedian was eight and completely stopped growing. Finally a doctor took notice and referred us to a pediatric endocrinologist. After a myriad of tests, it was determined that his pituitary gland was producing at least ten times less than normal. And so the adventure began.
I gave him his shots at first. I was squeamish for the first few times, but soon got the hang of it. After about six months, the Comedian asked if he could start administering the shots himself. With me watching, he tried it out….and did a great job.
The growth started immediately; in his feet! He had been a size 1 for three years and suddenly I couldn’t keep him in shoes. Now, two years later, he is a size 7.5. He went from a size 8 slim pant to respectable size 14. While all three of his older brothers are wearing man’s sized clothing, at least the Comedian is in the big boy section! He went from being completely under the growth charts to about 45%. The short jokes amongst his peers have stopped and the complex that he had about being so small is nearly gone.
And so our routine involves receiving a package of Human Growth Hormone each month by mail, using the butter section of the refrigerator for shots instead of cubes of butter, administering shots every night and routinely visiting a specialist every three months for precise measuring. It also involves constantly monitoring those dang feet that out-grow shoes like nobody’s business.