A little baby MRI

We did exactly as we were told to do - we didn't worry, we didn't assume the worst and we just lived our lives and enjoyed our little man. At Torsten's 4 month checkup, the topic of the 6 month MRI came back up. We discussed it with his pediatrician and decided that we would try to schedule it for December. So... it's December. Even so, we were sure that this was all just precautionary and that everything would be fine.

The MRI was last Tuesday at Children's in Dallas. We had done our best to prepare ourselves, but weren't thrilled about the idea of starving our baby so that he could be put to sleep for the procedure. We were sure that he would be screaming his head off and generally making everyone within earshot hate us. We were wrong. I was the one who was a mess. My son was a trooper. He didn't cry, smiled, entertained the nursing staff, breezed through all of the prep and allowed multiple people to poke him, prod him and pick him up.

After several delays, they finally took him back 2 hours later than expected, so by that point, Torsten hadn't eaten in 6 hours. They told us it would take an hour max, maybe less, and that we should grab lunch and not worry. Two hours later, I was worried. They told us then that it would be a bit longer. By the time we were reunited with our son, it had been nearly 3 hours and I'd had a series of emotional breakdowns in the waiting room.

When we went back to the room, they said he'd done great. He was just coming out of anesthesia and was fussy, loopy and starving. He was hooked up to about 10 cords, wires and monitors, but we were still able to get him fed without too much trouble. They told us that we should have the results within 2 days, and that as soon as he'd been fed and dressed, we could get out of there. They didn't have to tell us twice.

On Thursday, I called our pediatricians office to check for results. They hadn't received anything, but the nurse said she would call Children's to have them sent over. She then called back to say that she had received the brain scan (another MRI that he'd had for a separate issue) and that everything was fine. I asked her about the spinal scan and she said nothing had been received, but that she would call again and would call me right back. Then... silence. Hours later, I called back to see what had happened and was told by a receptionist that the nurse, whom I could hear in the background, would call me right back. I knew then that she would not be calling me back, that I would shortly be hearing from the doctor herself and that it wasn't good news. We'd been here before.

When Dr. McClard called back, she confirmed my fears - Torsten's spinal cord is tethered. I think that I asked her several questions, but I really don't remember exactly what they were, nor do I remember much from her responses. I believe she said something about a "lipoma", and I know she said that he does NOT have Spina Bifida. She told me that we needed to get into see the neurosurgeon asap and that Torsten would probably need an operation. She also told me not to worry. Sure.

I spent the remainder of the night crying, researching and reading things that I should have avoided. I only slept a couple of hours, but woke up on a mission and with new perspective. Rather than thinking "Why me?", I had to question, "Why not us?". We have good jobs, insurance, great doctors that identified the problem early, a great support network, bank accounts that aren't in the red yet and we love our son to the moon and back. We're the kind of people that have the determination to see this through and the ability to make it happen. I would do anything to avoid having my son go through this, but it happens, and if it's going to happen to anyone, it should be us.

My first call of the morning was to the neurosurgeon. When I first spoke with her office a few weeks ago, they told me that they had no open appointments until late January. Now that they had my son's MRI in hand, they were magically able to work us in on Monday. Great that they were working us in; bad that they did it because they were staring at my son's MRI results. Whatever. We'll take it.

So after calls with doctors, insurance reps and the hospital, we're heading to our appointment armed with far too much Googled information and a laundry list of questions. From what we've heard and read, surgery on his spine is imminent and time critical. We've accepted this now and just want to get the show on the road. We already know our kid's a trooper, so we can only assume he's ready too. Between this ordeal and the recent elementary school shooting in CT, my poor kiddo is really getting tired of the constant squeezes and kisses. He'll just have to adjust.