Their identical white helmets are a special reminder that they were once among the rarest of even Siamese twins — and saved by Bronx doctors who worked a miracle.
To mark the 10th anniversary of their historic separation, Carl and Clarence Aguirre, 12, and their beaming mother on Monday celebrated with the staffers at Montefiore Medical Center who performed surgery on the boys.
Clarence “loves to dance,’’ mom Arlene Aguirre told The Post.
And Carl is always polite, she added proudly, remembering to say “Thank you’’ even though he can speak only a few words.
Life hasn’t been easy for the twins, who were born with a “bridge’’ connecting their brains. It took four surgeries over nine months to successfully divide them.
Arlene, a single mother, gave birth to the conjoined twins in her native Philippines, where doctors told her the boys would not survive.
But everything changed for her and her babies when the charity Children’s Chances and Montefiore stepped in. The charity flew them over, and Montefiore performed the surgery, for free.
Still, while the surgeries saved the boys’ lives, Carl was left with severe disabilities that left him wheelchair-bound.
He can only speak a few words and suffers from periodic seizures that require him to be “closely monitored,” according to the boys’ pediatrician, Dr. Robert Marion.
Meanwhile, Clarence functions as a normal pre-teen with “excellent health” who loves Michael Jackson, high-fives, anything that has do with superheroes, especially Batman, and dancing.
He’s already thinking about what he wants to do when he grows up.
“Sometimes, Clarence says, ‘I want to be like a policeman,’ but then he’ll see his fireman friend and say, ‘I want to be a fireman!’” she said. “He’s kind of everywhere right now. And I’m like, ‘Good for you!’”
Their mom said, “It’s very difficult especially because it’s just me taking care of them 24/7.
“But I don’t have any regrets at all,” she added.
Dr. James Goodrich, who led the risky surgery that is now the medical standard for similar procedures, said he sees the boys at least twice a year for biannual celebrations — one on April 21, their actual birthday, and again Aug. 4, the day of their final surgery in 2004.
He stands by the risky “staged procedure” that ensured the medical miracles a shot at life.
“It was a complete success,” he said Monday. “It gave us the chance for each of the kids to become independent.”
The brothers still wear helmets to protect their skulls.
“When they were separated, there wasn’t even bone to form two skulls,” Marion said.
But in a few years, the boys won’t need helmets anymore.
Arlene is raising the two boys in a donated Scarsdale apartment to continue treatment at the hospital, which has footed the bill for the twins’ recovery.
She worked as a nurse back in the Philippines but has not been able to secure a job in the US because of visa issues.
She has not visited her home country since she came to the States for the procedure and isn’t sure when she’ll make it back.
“If we’re allowed to stay here, I really want to stay here,” she said. “Everything we get here, when it comes to the therapy, the medical, we don’t really have that kind of stuff in the Philippines.”