So I was Wrong

Yesterday morning, we braved terrible roads, early morning hours and a 17 month old without a bottle/breakfast, to take Spike to his endoscopy at Primary Children's. This test was ordered in the end of October and we just got in this week. (As a strange coincidence, it was on this day two years that we saw the first extensive ultrasound of Spike). I've been dreading this test for a number of reasons. First, I am just a nervous person and the thought of putting my baby under general anesthesia and handing him off to people I don't know is scary. Second, I have been convinced there is nothing wrong with Spike and this is a waste of time and money. It seemed ridiculous to spend a fortune and put Spike through an ordeal to find out what I already knew, he is healthy.

Well, after two chats with the pediatric GI, a trip to the "consultation room" and a long time in the recovery room, I can say it, "I was wrong." There is something wrong with Spike's esophagus. We are still waiting on some biopsies to make a final diagnosis, but most likely he will have a course of treatment that may involve limiting his diet further and introducing steriod therapy. Honestly, when the doctor was talking, I felt like I couldn't even listen because I was so shocked there was actually something wrong. To be even more honest, I'm still not sure I believe there is anything wrong, even after seeing the pictures, reading the literature, and talking to the GI. Spike has been doing so much better lately that I just can't get my arms around it. I guess I think the pathology will come back that all is well....although the doctor's comment to that idea was, "it is highly unlikely." Whatever, just because he's been to medical school and in practice for 25 years he thinks he knows more than me. :) j/k. I feel like the guy in Dumb and Dumber...."so, you're saying there's a chance".

Anyway, the best part of the story is Spike. Even under icky conditions, the child was 100% spunk. While waiting for the anesthesiologist, he was throwing toys and being wild (while I recieved dirty looks from all the other parents). When he came out of surgery he was "agitated" to say the least. He held his breath for 30 seconds and turned blue, requiring supplemental oxygen, because he was so mad. Every time a nurse would come he'd hold up his arm with the IV and scream "ting, ting". Meaning, "TAKE THIS THING OFF MY ARM!" What can I say, the kid knows how to win friends and influence people.

I had a picture of Spike in recovery to post, but for some reason it won't load...maybe I'll try again later. In the meantime, I realize what we are going though is NOTHING in comparison to what millions of parents endure every day. Even so, if you have any extra time in your prayers, throw in a wish for Spike.