I was going to write something about today being the two-year anniversary of C being on oxygen, but I think my wife said it better than I could have.
From my wife:
Today marks exactly two years that C has been on oxygen, all day, every day. He continues to be a real trouper, accepting that he gets caught on furniture, wraps himself around our chairs, and gets stuck in doors. There are cuts and rashes on his face from the tape, and the skin under his nose gets raw because we're not allowed to use petroleum jelly. We marvel that he doesn’t complain. When we take off the cannula and tape and replace it, he lies there patiently.
I know he’d like to be free—when he’s outside and gets disconnected he shoots off running with glee—but for now he trusts us and wears his cannula without question. He turns his oxygen concentrator on and off each morning, and he teaches his parents the meaning of dignity and patience every day.