Jun 2010
There was a time when my oldest was young, we thought we were going to lose him. It all started with recurring headaches he would have. These headaches became more frequent and intense over a few months. Next, tremors started to acompany the headaches.
After countless trips to the Doctor and many days of having to leave work to go get our son from school and help him thru these episodes, I blew a gasket. I demanded a CT scan. I think that the only reason the Doctor agreed to it was to shut me up. But I knew in my Mother's gut, that these were not migraines.
The day of that CT scan, they had my son lie down on the table. They injected a tranq into his I.V. The CT started. I sat in an area where it allowed me to see my son and hear the technicians. At first they were very chatty with one another. One tech said, "He is asleep now, we can proceed." They spoke in general terms about this and that as the scan continued. Then the dread words were said by one ...."Oh ****!" the tech said. After that, silence. No more chit chat. Nothing. My heart dropped.
After the scan was over, I was told that I would be hearing from his Doctor in about 24 hours.
Two weeks later, I recieved a call from the Docotors scheduling nurse. "Why haven't you come in to see the Doctor?" She demanded. I explained that I was told that the office would be calling me to schedule an appointment. The she exclaims..."You need to get in here right now. Don't you know how serious this is?"
WELL I DID NOW!
Long story short, he had an arachnoidal cyst. The left temporal lobe of his brain was not there. In its place was a large fluid filled sack. The pressure was causing all the symptoms he had.
After more visits and much gut wrenching, the surgery day arrived.
It went well. He has a tube implanted just under the skin that runs from his skull to his belly to let fluid drain.
But the place I want to guide you to now, is in the Hospital room.
There was our son. Lying in the big white hospital bed. he himself, almost as white as the sheets. his head bandaged, tubes everywhere. In the room with me were two friends from work and our younger son. Two years younger. So he was 5.
As our son started to wake up, his first words were.."Where's my brother?"
His brother flew to his side. "I'm right here!" he said as he grabbed his older brothers hand. Very weakly Jess was able to say "I love you Mike." Mike in turn said "I love you Jess."
That was the one and only time I cried during the whole ordeal.
Jess made a complete recovery. No Problems. The rest of his brain had taken over the work the temporal lobe was suppose to do. A miracle.
What I found so amazing was that I never once shed a tear during the lead up and the findings and the aftermath. Not untill I heard those words expressed by my sons to one another.
Most children would want their Mother or Father at a time like that.
Nope! My boys were joined at the hip, so to speak. Those few words spoken to each other confirmed the special bond I knew they had, that has never wavered.
After countless trips to the Doctor and many days of having to leave work to go get our son from school and help him thru these episodes, I blew a gasket. I demanded a CT scan. I think that the only reason the Doctor agreed to it was to shut me up. But I knew in my Mother's gut, that these were not migraines.
The day of that CT scan, they had my son lie down on the table. They injected a tranq into his I.V. The CT started. I sat in an area where it allowed me to see my son and hear the technicians. At first they were very chatty with one another. One tech said, "He is asleep now, we can proceed." They spoke in general terms about this and that as the scan continued. Then the dread words were said by one ...."Oh ****!" the tech said. After that, silence. No more chit chat. Nothing. My heart dropped.
After the scan was over, I was told that I would be hearing from his Doctor in about 24 hours.
Two weeks later, I recieved a call from the Docotors scheduling nurse. "Why haven't you come in to see the Doctor?" She demanded. I explained that I was told that the office would be calling me to schedule an appointment. The she exclaims..."You need to get in here right now. Don't you know how serious this is?"
WELL I DID NOW!
Long story short, he had an arachnoidal cyst. The left temporal lobe of his brain was not there. In its place was a large fluid filled sack. The pressure was causing all the symptoms he had.
After more visits and much gut wrenching, the surgery day arrived.
It went well. He has a tube implanted just under the skin that runs from his skull to his belly to let fluid drain.
But the place I want to guide you to now, is in the Hospital room.
There was our son. Lying in the big white hospital bed. he himself, almost as white as the sheets. his head bandaged, tubes everywhere. In the room with me were two friends from work and our younger son. Two years younger. So he was 5.
As our son started to wake up, his first words were.."Where's my brother?"
His brother flew to his side. "I'm right here!" he said as he grabbed his older brothers hand. Very weakly Jess was able to say "I love you Mike." Mike in turn said "I love you Jess."
That was the one and only time I cried during the whole ordeal.
Jess made a complete recovery. No Problems. The rest of his brain had taken over the work the temporal lobe was suppose to do. A miracle.
What I found so amazing was that I never once shed a tear during the lead up and the findings and the aftermath. Not untill I heard those words expressed by my sons to one another.
Most children would want their Mother or Father at a time like that.
Nope! My boys were joined at the hip, so to speak. Those few words spoken to each other confirmed the special bond I knew they had, that has never wavered.
True life is so much more compelling than fiction and verse.
