Friday, August 8, 2014

It never gets easier.

MRI time. I really can't decide what is worse. Knowing everything that is going to happen, or being oblivious.  I always use to be aggravated that the anesthesiologist never took the time to explain anything, and rushed us in and rushed us out, as he was putting our son to sleep. This time was quite different, as Ken and I listened as the doctor rattled off all the things they would do to prepare Kyle to go out, my anxiety grew.   When I questioned myself if I was getting upset for nothing, I looked at my ex-husband who turned white as a ghost and that's when I knew I wasn't over reacting.  It was time.  We went into the exam room with the MRI machine. I hate this part. First of all, not only is the room intimidating with the high, large, sterile white table to lay on, but the big machine behind it, and all the sounds you hear.  The beeping of the vital machine. The swoosh sounds of the oxygen machine. And about 4 nurses and the doctor all surrounding the bed. This was the only time that my son said he was scared and personally, I do not blame him.  All these ideas went running through my head of how they could and should make this a more comfortable setting for kids. They did let him pick out a scented chap stick which they spread across the mask that they would put over his nose and mouth, so he would smell that instead of the medication that he was inhaling to be put out. I grabbed one hand, Ken grabbed the other and my big strong boy took it like a champ and did everything the doctor told him. Kyle's eyes started to roll back and that's when they usually tell us that it's time to go.  He was out but not out, out.  This time though, the doctor let us stay right up until he was completely out. Seeing a child get put out is awful.  His whole body jerked rapidly toward the end.  And then it finally happens where he just goes completely limp. The nurse told me to give him a kiss, which I did, and I told him I love him and was ushered out the door.  As hard as I try and fight it, the tears come and the anxiety swoops in because all I can think about is that is my little boy in there and I can't be with him for about an hour now.

 Ken and I walked, mentally exhausted at this point, to go get coffee at the cafeteria.  We sat and talked and I was grateful he was there.  We actually laughed and was able to have a good conversation. We distracted each other with stories and updates about the kids. We talked about work and his dog, and other random things. We talked about the past a little bit. And touched on the future. Today with him gave me hope that we could come out of the divorce ok and we could maybe, some day, be friends again. 

 We walked back to the waiting room after 45 minutes and this is when I start looking at the clock.  It seems like they will call every name in the book except for your child's.  When the nurse came and finally called "parent for Kyle" I instantly stood up and Ken let me go first to see him. In the past, Kyle would be real lathargic right after. I was so pleased to see that he was alert and even sitting up! I gave him a hug and kiss and told him how proud I was of him. He drank some apple juice and after the nurse checked him out, we were transferred from the recovery room to a regular room where we would wait for another nurse to check on him before we could go. He was pretty nauseous, dizzy and sleepy but after he was cleared to go, he got right up and got dressed and out the door we went. He did vomit twice on the way home, but now he seems to be doing fine.  

Today is Friday, so I can not call for results until technically Wednesday but I will start leaving messages on Monday or Tuesday.  All I can do is pray to God that it comes out fine with zero concern and have the neurologist tell me that we don't have to go through this for another 6 months, or year, which would be fantastic. I call this disease "the disease of the unknown" because you do not know what could happen or when or if anything even will.  All I can do is pray, hope, and rely on friends and family to get me through.  I could not love this little boy more. We will deal with whatever comes, together.   <3

I’m participating in NF Walk 2014 Rochester, NY and need your support.  Could you please contribute to my fundraising efforts?

No comments:

Post a Comment