Friday, November 19, 2010

Worry is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind. If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained

August 2010: And so the day went on, I paced nervously about, unable to think of anything other than what could potentially be wrong with my son. The Hubbin' and I batted the idea of driving to Georgetown around, but it was a 4 hour drive, and we would arrive long after everyone had left for the day. The Hubbin' decided enough was enough, grabbed the phone and called the hospital.

I don't know what he said, or who he said it to, since I was practically catatonic with anxiety, sitting on the couch staring at the wall, but shortly after they hung up, another doctor from the neurology team called us back.

"I'm calling on behalf of your neurologist," she said. Why do these people waste so much time with introductions? At that point, I didn't really care who I was talking to, I wanted that paper read to me. "I have your sons imaging reports here. It looks like he has a venous angioma. A Cerebellar DVA. Developmental Venous Anomaly."

"I have no idea what that is," I said. It sounded awful.

"It's actually completely benign. It just means that part of his brain looks different, but maintains normal function. There are veins in the cerebellum that drain fluid, and sometimes they form in weird ways. Usually we see them branch out like a tree, but your sons twists around and around like a corkscrew." she said, sounding satisfied with her explanation, and quite ready to end the call.

"So what does that mean for Lucas?" I asked.

"Nothing, really. It's a rather unremarkable find, since it is not accompanied by any lesions or abnormalities. I don't know why the nurse wouldn't give you this information over the phone," she said. Ha, me either, doc. Me either.

We hung up the phone, and the good news spread through the house. Happy tears flowed all around.

I was beginning to think that Lucas was part cat, with nine lives and all.

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