Dem Bones

The weekend before Bonnie was born, Jack was showing off his oh-so-impressive muscles to Daddy.  As Tom squeezed and made the appropriate oohing and aahing, he felt a hard lump near Jack's bicep.  I didn't think it was a big deal but he did (crazy role reversal!) Jack came down with a fever that night, though, which sent me into a tailspin (Abcess!  MRSA!  Cancer!) and we got The Boy into the Ped on Sunday.  Bless our Peds office and their "open every day but Thanksgiving and Christmas" policy.

The nurse practitioner thought it was a bone cyst BUT she wanted to be on the safe side and sent the boys off for an x-ray.  Looking at the x-rays, our regular doctor also thought it was probably nothing BUT wanted us to take Jack to an orthopedist, going so far as to schedule the appointment himself for the following day.  When Tom let Dr. G know that the time wasn't great for him as he had a job interview (for a promotion that he got -- YAY!!!) Dr. G gently insisted that we needed to get Jack in there right away so of course Tom rescheduled his meeting.  (All of this went on from the confines of the recovery room immediately following my c-section.  Oh what a day that was!)

The orthopedist also thinks that the lump is "nothing" BUT she wants to be sure so Jack will go for an MRI on Monday morning.  This scares me on several levels.  First of all, the thought of my child needing an MRI for any reason is awful.  Any parent would feel that way.  Anyone who remembers Jack's fire alarm trauma earlier this year will also understand why I quake in my boots at the thought of him in an MRI machine.  Those things are LOUD.  He would freak out and possibly end up claustrophobic for life.  Dr. G. assures me that they will sedate him and he'll have no idea what is going on around him.  Good on the lack of awareness but sedation?  Holy cow, that is also frightening.  We're taking him to the local children's hospital so he'll be in good hands but Lord, I really don't want my baby sedated.  I know it has to be done, though, or we'll never get a definitive answer about the lump.

Tom will take Jack to the test on Monday and I'll stay here with the girls.  Even if I wasn't still under driving restrictions from the surgery, it would still be best for Tom to take him.  He is better at being stoic than I am and Jack feeds off my nervous energy.  Being with Tom will keep him calmer.  I will be busy trying not to bite my nails down to the first knuckle at the thought of my tiny big boy being put under and loaded into a machine.  Forget thinking about what they could find -- all such ponderings are off-limits as they'll do me no good.  I've been so fixated on something bad happening to Bonnie over the last few months.  What if I was worried about the wrong child?  I'm trying not to think like that but the bad thoughts have a way of sneaking past my defenses.  Fingers crossed, please, we need good news.