Sunday, February 12, 2012

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Tonight's picture was taken in April of 2008 after Mattie's sixth birthday party. Mattie had a bowling party that day with friends from preschool and his kindergarten class. Throughout his party he wasn't feeling well and by the time it was over he had a raging fever. Naturally I assumed he only had a cold or flu. But now looking back, maybe this was a sign of the cancer that was taking over his body. One's mind doesn't go there when raising a "healthy" child. But my mind certainly goes there now. After the party Mattie was wiped out and exhausted. For Mattie to sit on our couch and put his head down, that meant he was very sick. Since rarely did Mattie stop moving around and engaging with his environment.

Quote of the day: Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. ~ Confucius 

I woke up today at 5:30am, after another bad night of sleep. We arrived at the hospital at 7am. When we got to the MRI department we noticed that the waiting room lights were dimmed. We were concerned that the doors were locked. But when we pulled on them, they did open, which makes sense since that department is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Any case, as we entered, we moved toward the registration desk and noticed a man beside the desk jump up. He had been sleeping in his chair, probably tired from his all night shift. In any case, his jumping caught us off guard and all three of us landed up jumping in surprise. He eventually woke up enough to register me for the MRI. However, despite being there early, there was a patient in the machine before me who was tested for over two hours. So literally I waited 90 minutes until I got into the MRI room. I am so used to waiting in hospitals, that really the 90 minutes did not even bother me.

While Peter and I were waiting, another couple walked into the MRI center, and they had an even longer wait than I did, since after me, an emergency case came in and was given priority. Therefore this couple had to wait an additional hour. However, while we were in the waiting room, Peter grabbed a Georgetown publication called The Georgetown Star to read. As he was flipping through the pages, here is what we saw below..............................

When it was my turn to go back for the procedure, I had to get an IV line set up so that I could receive the contrasting dye for the MRI. The tech who worked with me was a lovely lady and she did not want to stick me multiple times unnecessarily. Since it is hard to find veins in my arms, she instead used my hand. This was actually quite painful and as soon as she stuck me in the hand, blood went gushing every where. On me and the floor. But again, this too did not phase me. What did phase me however was the location in which I sat. A location Peter and I took Mattie multiple times for MRI assessments. Mattie HATED MRIs, and for good reason. They are loud and scary. I could picture Mattie in each room today in this MRI department. The tech and I got to talking and it turns out her son was born with a rare cancer, but thankfully is doing well now. I listened to her story for about 15 minutes, and what I concluded is childhood cancer can't possibly touch your life without it affecting you emotionally.

The MRI itself was a 40 minute procedure. I have had MRI's of my head before, which are rather intimidating, since you basically are wearing a face mask and are confined inside a very claustrophobic tube. But today's machine was not a tube, and though it made a racket, as long as my head wasn't confined then sitting still is NO problem for me.

Once the scan was over, guess who I immediately text messaged? If my faithful readers guessed, Dr. Aziza Shad, you get a gold star. I wanted Aziza to know I finished the MRI and would follow up with the doctor tomorrow. However, in typical Aziza fashion, she asked me whether I wanted a preliminary report. Naturally my response was absolutely. Aziza's policy in her clinic, is that parents always find out test results the same day as the procedure, if it is possible. I can't tell you what a blessing that is, because the waiting around and wondering is like hell on earth.

Later this afternoon, Aziza called me. She had Mattie's radiologist do a quick read and told me that I actually have more than one mass and the concern is what is surrounding the mass. So it is my hope that this stuff can be biopsied. A pronouncement I need to hear from the doctor. So we are back to the waiting game.

As the day has worn on, Peter and I naturally feel different things. Peter is mad, angry, and scared! He can't believe this is happening to me and us. I understand his feelings and totally get how profoundly hard it is to walk back into the hospital and traverse the corridors we spent a harrowing 14 months of our lives. The problem with my situation is unless the masses in question can be biopsied, then we will never know definitively what they are, and the issue is the location of them. A location that may not be able to be reached for a biopsy.

Peter and I live with daily grief and the issues associated with this, but this week we are back to also feeling a heightened level of stress and anxiety that we developed in 2008. Back to when it was hard to eat, sleep, and function. I think this is a natural feeling for anyone playing the medical waiting game, but for us it is magnified ten fold because of our previous experiences and traumatic loss.