Peek A Boo with the Monster

So yesterday was a long day. Thursday, Susie went to work and I took the day off. Jack and I played all day, going to the park, to visit the grandparents, to the library, and we crawl raced for hours. A great day with very little fussiness and lots of smiley, laughing Jack. When Jack's happy, daddy's happy!

Then, the next morning Susie and I woke up to Iggy Pop's Lust For Life on the alarm at 5:30am. We got dressed, woke up the bug, fed him, packed him up, and headed to Orlando in separate cars, a 30 minute drive nowadays. Jack laughed, talked and sang the whole way in my car.

Then we got to the hospital where we were schedule in 5 minutes to check-in and the parking garage was full...at 7am! After splitting up, Susie and I finally found spaces and met up inside after figuring out where each of us were. It wouldn't be a medical procedure without some chaos. Then we checked in...Jack all the while smiling, laughing, and talking.

We checked in and were brought to the Radiology Unit and sat in the lobby. The room, which has grown quite familiar at this point, began to bring back a great deal of bad memories. Some of the memories directly related to Jack and the monster in his head and some of the memories related to the trauma victims and other children we had seen in the radiology unit over the past several visits. Finding Nemo, as always, was playing on the big screen tv in the lobby which will forever be synonymous with cysts and head injuries for the rest of my life.

After 15 minutes, time enough for me to develop a case of stress tummy, Jack was called back. Susie and I already had decided I would go back with him as only one of us could go and I expressed a stong desire to be the one leaving the door open for her if she chose. She readily indicated it was fine if I went.

Walking back, I remembered the first time we had come and I had gone alone with Jack into the CT Scan. I remembered how little he was. This time was different. He was aware of where we were it seemed and also appeared a bit scared, grasping my shirt. I pretended to be jovial, holding him tight, but laughing and kissing him.

We got back to the MRI room and the tech checked everything out. It was nice to know there would be no anesthesia or dye injected into the bug this time but I wasn't prepared or even aware of what would transpire. Here's what followed...I had to wear a vest for radiation protection that resembled a flack jacket seen on CNN by war correspondents, Jack had to lie on a table with his head between two braces, I was informed I could try and feed him while in the machine if I could reach, headphones were placed over Jack's ears due to the loud noises I was warned would follow and I was given earplugs. Within 5 minutes, the tech was ready to go and placed the headphones on Jacks ears. Until then Jack just looked confused. Now he was screaming. I held his arms down as he attempted to remove the straps that were holding him in place while continuing to cry. I tried the bottle but knew there was no way this was going to happen. I decided to focus on looking calm and smiling at Jack. Suddenly the table he layed on moved back into the magnetic tunnel and stopped at just the point where Jack was almost out of reach. I leaned in and held his arms wanting to climb in and comfort him. The machine started as Jack began screaming even louder. He stopped screaming when hearing the loud banging noises and stared at my face through a mirror angled above his head so he could see out. He looked at me in a diffent way than ever before, a look of fear you never want to say on your childs face, and especially when you can't get to him. I just smiled and focused on being calm for him. After 5 minutes it was over. I unstrapped him and removed the headphones before the tech even got out. Then I picked him up and fed him his bottle as he was about 45 minutes past his normal feeding time at this point. He scarfed the bottle down hungry and needing the comfort of something safe and familiar.

Jack played and laughed the rest of the day like nothing ever happened. He's my favorite little boy in the whole world and I'm so lucky, he's ours. I hate seeing him scared but I know it's much worse for us than him, at least at this young age.

Next appointment is next week on Wednesday with the neurologist, Dr. Trumble, to review the results of the MRI. This one is in the afternoon, so I'll let everyone know the results as soon as possible that evening or the next.