marydell: (charlie-superman)
[personal profile] marydell

So yesterday Charlie had an Echocardiagram (aka ECHO) (result:  good news, for those who can't stand suspense).  He was born with a small hole in his heart called a PFO (patent foramen ovale), which often can close on its own.  At a year old, however, it had grown, instead of closing, and at about half a centemeter was upgraded to being called an ASD (atrial septal defect).  If it continued growing, the doc told us at that time, it would need a repair when he reached 4 years old--a small screen inserted via cardiac catheter.  In the meantime it wouldn't cause any problem, but should be checked yearly. 

He should have had this ECHO about a year ago, but a year ago we were in the midst of random unpredictable violent mood stuff, plus regular vomiting and respiratory illness, so we focused on that instead, ultimately resolving it by treating his apparently very bad GERD and changing his antihistamines.

So, then he should have had this ECHO a couple of months ago, but he decided to have Scarlet Fever on the day he was scheduled, so we had to reschedule.

He should have had it at our local branch of the Heart Institute for Children, but they're booked through the end of winter, so we scheduled at a branch an hour away from home.

Mike was supposed to take him, and I spent a half week agonizing over what a terrible mother I am for conserving my last few vacation days (I have had 4 remaining through the end of March, whereas Mike has a bunch more than that and his roll over in January) in case Charlie needs to get tubes in his ears or some other drama happens before April.  I knew he'd be scared of the procedure and Mike is very comforting but I am Charlie's favorite security blanket.  But with difficulty I reconciled myself to being absent for this.

Then Mike got a cold.  Not a bad cold, but we don't go sit in waiting rooms full of medically fragile children when we have viruses, and this is a pediatric cardiology specialty office.  So I took the day off to take Charlie to his appointment, thus fixing my agonizing about motherhood and replacing it with worrying about my career instead.

So, Charlie was supposed to have the ECHO at 9 am.  We got to the place and the elevator wasn't working. People were taking the stairs and with the help of some M&M's I coaxed Charlie into the stairwell despite his protests of "too scary!" (This after several plaintive "I don't want doctor, no doctor!").  Walking up stairs is something he does happily enough, however, so he was ok with that part although my asthma was a bit annoyed with me.

We got to the office and there were only a couple of kids already in the waiting room.  However, when we signed in the receptionist told us something was wrong with the building power.  The lights were on but the elevator wasn't working, as I had already discovered.  What else wasn't working? ECHO and EKG systems, of course.

Power was restored about an hour later -- a truck had hit a pole or something, so they had to fix a transformer.  There had been kids waiting in the offices inside the whole time, so they still needed to have their procedures before we waiting room people could be called.  Thank god for my Ipad and for those obsessive people who make videos of trains.

Another hour or so and we got to go in and have normal doctor stuff plus the ECHO, which is a set of ultrasounds of the heart done from different angles.  Mercifully Charlie thought that was kind of cool, particularly because at one point it sounded like a train. Also helpful in keeping him from freaking out: my many promises of taking him to a toy store afterwards, plus giving him way too many M&M's and Dum Dums. 

I really, really expected to hear that the hole had doubled in size (Charlie has, himself, doubled in size, after all) and that he'd need surgery as soon as he got to be old enough.  I had just been assuming that and preparing to hear that, for months now. 

Instead, the doctor said the hole had gotten so small that it only showed from a couple angles on the ECHO, and wasn't visible from the other angles.  It's so small now that it's not considered abnormal or medically significant. 

"Goodbye; we won't need to see him again." 

Date: 2011-11-17 07:06 pm (UTC)
dharma_slut: They call me Mister CottonTail (Default)
From: [personal profile] dharma_slut
I feel a sense of profound relief on your behalf.

I just.. congratulations. Hugs. Tears.

Date: 2011-11-17 11:31 pm (UTC)
trouble: Sketch of Hermoine from Harry Potter with "Bookworms will rule the world (after we finish the background reading)" on it (Default)
From: [personal profile] trouble
Yay! Don's also gone through the ECHO as a child thing. <3

Date: 2011-11-17 11:53 pm (UTC)
kate_nepveu: sleeping cat carved in brown wood (Default)
From: [personal profile] kate_nepveu

Date: 2011-11-18 12:12 am (UTC)
readinggeek451: (Default)
From: [personal profile] readinggeek451
Yay! for good medical news!

Date: 2011-11-18 12:56 am (UTC)
capriuni: A black field crossed by five parallel lighting bolts in blue, gold, green, red, and purple (Default)
From: [personal profile] capriuni

(And thanks, BTW, for spoilering the happy ending for me... I'd have been a nervous wreck, otherwise)

Date: 2011-11-18 03:16 am (UTC)
torachan: a happy cartoon guy with the text "it's like a blast of happy up my ass" (blast of happy in my ass)
From: [personal profile] torachan
Oh, that's wonderful news!

Date: 2011-11-17 07:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
W00t W00t! That news is all that and french fries with ketchup.

Also this:

So I took the day off to take Charlie to his appointment, thus fixing my agonizing about motherhood and replacing it with worrying about my career instead.

This does not get better. Puppy is home sick with a head cold and I have a GIANT filing today, and I feel miserable that I'm not home petting him. He is 17! He can get his own juice! And I still feel guilty and am bugging him by calling every couple of hours.

Date: 2011-11-17 07:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It'll totally get better! When I LOSE MY JOB because I FAILED TO FOCUS APPROPRIATELY etc. Then I will have plenty of time for my family. :) Sadly this is one of my daydreams nowadays. My daydream does not include being flat broke, however, which is how I can tell it's a dream.

And I totally know what you mean about Puppy; he is a big boy who can take care of himself but wubble wubble wubble.

Date: 2011-11-17 07:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

I always knew we were samely. However, I have been having that daydream since Puppy was 7 and I started practicing law, and THEY HAVEN'T FIRED ME YET. I'm waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And also dreading, and dreading, and dreading, because my daydream is also not about foreclosure and starvation. But instead it is the same same same push and pull.

Mebbe one day we could win lotteries and become ladies who lunch.

Date: 2011-11-17 07:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The hilarious thing is that if I had 2 weeks without a career I'd be building another career by week 3, and so would you be, I suspect. I love having a demanding job, except for the times when I don't.

And yeah, they keep not firing me, as well as promoting me and giving me more staff, so that whole daydream doesn't seem to be happening soon.

I am convinced than men do not worry like this, even modern companionate-marriage involved-parent type men.

Date: 2011-11-17 08:46 pm (UTC)
ckd: small blue foam shark (Default)
From: [personal profile] ckd
This does not get better. Puppy is home sick with a head cold and I have a GIANT filing today, and I feel miserable that I'm not home petting him. He is 17! He can get his own juice! And I still feel guilty and am bugging him by calling every couple of hours.

Hey, my mom was worrying about me when I had a mildly scary medical scare recently (result: just a scare, no trouble found) and wanted to be out here to take care of me.

I'm older than she was WHEN SHE HAD ME.

Date: 2011-11-17 07:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

Also you are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO not a bad mom. But you already knew I knew that.

*hugs you*

Date: 2011-11-17 07:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thanks, *hugsback*. I objectively do think I'm a good mom, but the brain weasels are strong. Fortunately the brain weasels are also happy to give me credit for the improved heart situation, despite my having nothing to do with it, so today is a happy day for me *and* the weasels.

Date: 2011-11-17 07:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Excellent news! :-)

Date: 2011-11-17 08:23 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-11-17 08:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Great news about your beautiful boy! CONGRATS!

Date: 2011-11-17 09:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh, that's wonderful! And how merciful that part of the procedure sounded like a train.


Date: 2011-11-17 10:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Yay for the good news! Sympathy for the rest of it :)

Date: 2011-11-17 11:56 pm (UTC)

Date: 2011-11-18 03:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh, my goodness gracious! I am so relieved for you!

I totally get that part about anticipating and preparing yourself for the worst, too... so glad that you were wrong.

Date: 2011-11-18 03:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
What? YAY!

Date: 2011-11-18 11:17 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] vcmw
Yay! Glad for you and Charlie both!

Date: 2011-11-18 01:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
How anti-climactic (in the best possible way!) after everything you went through to get there! So glad to hear it. :)

Date: 2011-11-18 03:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Wow! If only every horridly stressful day could be so TOTALLY WORTH IT!

You go, mom and Charlie. (Also dad for not spreading icky viruses.)

Date: 2011-11-18 04:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

Date: 2011-11-19 06:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Excellent news! Well done Charlie.

Date: 2011-11-20 06:06 am (UTC)
ext_3319: Goth girl outfit (Default)
From: [identity profile]
Very glad for the outcome! AND for train videos, hallelujah.

Date: 2011-11-21 04:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh, yay. I am so glad that he will not need surgery (however routine).

(Also, bribery for the win.)


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