The Events of Thursday- Knocked Down Again

Early Friday Morning -10/22/10  7:38am

                It’s finally Friday… It feels as though between Wednesday and Today HAD to have been more like 2 years instead of 2 days.  Day 2 was… Wow... I could never have imagined how that day would have unfolded.  Taylor and I visited a pumpkin patch with her school, but before we could even get on the road I was SO sick.  Breakfast was a waste for both of us but we trucked on and packed our stuff and headed to the Patch. I think Taylor had a great time and I stayed fairly distracted which was helpful. But, as most people well know, when you see someone you know who is 8 months pregnant one of the easiest conversation starters is “How much longer?” “Are you excited?” “How is everything going?” I dreaded every single conversation with every single person. But we pushed through that as well and thankfully it wasn’t long before we were ready to go home…               

My first attempt at this post was short lived... I was so very exhausted that I ended up simply falling back to sleep in front of my computer. Taylor laid with me and rubbed my head, it was one of the most comforting feelings I have had.  But I want to finish the recap of the rest of our 2^nd day in this foggy nightmare. During the pumpkin patch visit, I arranged an appointment with Dr. P, my OB, to simply get an opinion, an expression, a response… something from another medical professional.  I had brought myself to a place of working to accept Wednesday’s news that my baby has something not right with his brain, BUT it was “mild” “subtle” there was no “cyst” “he may or may not need a shunt.”  These were all words that I was told and though they still make me a little sick to write and recap they are my only source of hope, because there is an antonym of each word that COULD have been used to describe the condition of my sweet Eli that would have changed everything even more.

                As Dr. P entered the waiting area to get myself and my beloved friend, I began to since that she reeked of awkward and uncomfortable-ness but my nerves were maxed out, so I didn’t begin analyzing as I normally would.  Matt arrived as we were gathering and I began the discussion pretty much with a recap of the previous day’s information.  Dr. P offered little to no expounding of the subject and in fact seemed to me, to be preparing us for a worst case scenario, which had started to wear on me mentally.  Eventually as the meeting went in circles and was ready to be ended I asked if I could have a copy of the report on Eli, just to keep for my records. She quickly said “sure” and then the awkward aroma became pungent.  She placed her hand on the paper as if to slide it to me and she physically wilted and began to say… “I was hesitant to tell you exactly what was in this report but before I give it to you I’m going to. The report is not consistent with what you are telling me and actually doesn’t match what my sister (my lead OB) was told yesterday on the phone by Dr. H.  It states... MODERATE to SEVERE and LARGE CYST noted...” …………………...............................................................................................................

Each of those periods represents a breath I could not take, a tear I could not cry, a picture of my precious son I cannot erase, a fury of anger and confusion that I could not vocalize.

I began to involuntarily become cold and shiver. I stared out the window and caught a glimpse of my dear husband’s shock and a flat affect overcame me…. I just stared… Someone mentioned the possibility that the doctor may have “re-examined” the pictures to make a better report and I sunk deeper into my state of non-existence… I believe that I somehow mumbled quietly “This doesn’t make any sense” and just as I was doing so I realized that my beloved friend, and Matt and I’s saving grace, that we had brought with us, had taken the report and read it quickly.  She asked me to look at her and said very boldly, “This doesn’t make sense and I do not believe that this is a description of Eli…”  That was enough to bring me to consciousness and I looked directly at Dr. P and said I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.  She felt the urgency and the seriousness of our situation and began trying to call Dr. H who had diagnosed Eli. Of course she was gone for the day, so she got her cell phone number, and of course she didn’t answer.  We left the office on that note and with that heaviness. Upon leaving, Dr. P asked if we minded if she called anytime that night because she would be retrying Dr. H until she got an answer… that was my only glimmer of hope as we packed up and headed out. Everyone was quiet again, everyone looked defeated, bewildered, and confused and climbing into that quiet truck with my husband was again like blindly walking with him through a desolate fog of unfamiliar and unforgiving terrain. There’s no words for that situation… we had been beaten the day before to an extent we never thought survivable, we had gotten up “brushed ourselves off” only to be blindsided for a SECOND time and with news more grave than the first.  And then the phone rang……………………………………………………………………………………………………….........

That is NOT an exaggeration of the anxiety I felt while waiting for Dr. P to tell me what she had heard.  “Dr. H said that she was VERY sorry and that the report was WRONG… Everything from the previous day still holds true and she did not change her findings after re-examining the images.  She will fix it as soon as she gets home to a computer.”

THE REPORT WAS WRONG!!!!!!!!!!! I was overcome and completely broken down as I hung up the phone and shouted, "THE REPORT WAS WRONG!!!!!" I cried again like I did on the table as I heard the words the first time, that gut wrenching horrid cry that only a mother or a father can cry for a child, that one that no one should ever have to cry… I finally stopped and looked at Matt and patted his back as if to celebrate and kept repeating "THE REPORT WAS WRONG!!!" And then it was his turn to break down… and I knew what he was feeling so I let him get it out.  I called our friend and said "THE REPORT WAS WRONG, THE REPORT WAS WRONG!!"  Her response, “Praise God!!!” and indeed we did…

I need not bore you with all the range of emotions of the rest of that day you can imagine all the possibilities that began to pour through our heads and you can also be sure that some amount of anger and frustration with a group of medical professionals that I TRUSTED was beginning to mount. I slept that night, but not great… I think mostly out of sheer exhaustion.