Mixed Emotions

Yesterday was Cale's much anticipated doctor's appointment.

We got up incredibly early so that we could compete with the rush-hour traffic and arrive on time. Both kids were roused with sleepy eyes and looks of, "why on earth are you disturbing me from my peaceful sleep at this hour?" I, too, probably looked the same way since I tossed and turned most of the night, wondering anxiously about our meeting with the doctor. I wasn't sure what to expect and for those of you reading that have kids, you understand that your children are the most important things in your world and the possibility of receiving bad news about one of them is simply unbearable.

We arrived at Seattle Children's Hospital on time and even a bit early. The sun was shining and my attitude was surprisingly positive and eerily calm. I had no worries. We walked through the doors, checked in, and began the ongoing event of waiting. I truly believe medical offices just shuffle you around from place to place to make you feel like something is actually happening, but really they're just moving you to a different place to wait. Cale's appointment was broken up into two different parts; the first segment was a meeting with an occupational/physical therapist that basically went through a series of tests to determine where Cale was developmentally. The second segment was the actual meeting with the doctor. Cale did amazing with the OT/PT and even surprised them with how much he was able to do. Alex and I, of course, puffed out our chests with what I'm sure was a "Yep, that's our son" kind of look. We were so proud. After that was finished we were transferred to a different place where we then waited for the doctor to see us. Waiting. Waiting. And more waiting. It was during this portion of the morning that I started to become anxious. What if she came in, took one look at our son, and told us that she'd seen hundreds of kids just like him and that the future for him was bleak? What if she was able to put a name to whatever condition Cale has, because then I would be forced to spend countless of hours on the internet researching credible or non-credible information, all the while giving myself an ulcer. What then? Thankfully Riley was crying and squirming all over the place that I was forced to focus my mind on her rather than run through all of the worst-case scenarios I had been dreaming up during the weeks prior to this day.

Our name was finally called.

The doctor's appearance surprised me. She was young, very attractive, and made eye contact with us which had not been the case with the two previous neurologists we have seen. She was seemingly normal and even had a 31-week preemie herself. She was my kind of gal and I instantly liked her. She asked us hundreds of questions about Cale's history, looked him over and played with him a bit, and then gave us her opinion. Gulp. She suggested that we submit to some sort of genetic test with an incredibly long name that I definitely cannot remember. We have had genetic testing done before but apparently there is a new one that can pick up even the slightest abnormalities in the genetic code. This test is anywhere from $1300 to $3000, depending on what your insurance is willing to pay. Another gulp. She said the chances of this test finding anything is probably less than 1% and so Alex and I are currently debating on whether or not we want to do it. She also said she didn't think he had a syndrome because there weren't any physical features that stood out on Cale. We kind of already knew that but it was good to get her confirmation. The only thing any doctor has been able to "diagnose" him with is cerebral palsy and so I asked her if she thought that's what he had. She said no. Her nurse then came in, handed us some paperwork, and gave us the option of coming back in a year even though the doctor didn't think it was necessary to see us again. All of that worry and anticipation for twenty minutes. Was it worth it? I'm not sure.

In summary, she wasn't able to tell us what Cale has. She doesn't think it's cerebral palsy or any sort of syndrome but she does recommend we seek out that genetic test. She believes Cale will continue to make gains and progress forward, which really was our best-case scenario and all that we could hope for. She didn't tell us his future was bleak or give us the news that he had a condition that would limit his quality of life. Overall she was very positive and I suppose we should feel very good about that. For some reason I'm left feeling like perhaps this was a waste of our time because we are leaving knowing nothing different from what we already knew. On the other hand, we made the appointment to have a different set of eyes look at our son and get an "nth" opinion, which we got. Mission accomplished. Cale truly is unique and there's no question in my mind that God made him exactly the way he should be. I love my little boy more than words could ever describe and there's nothing any doctor could ever say to change that. We joke that there's a different time zone called "Cale's Time" and I'm truly beginning to believe that it actually exists. Everything on his time..

I'm glad it's over and perhaps one of these days I will truly be at peace with not knowing the why or the reason for why Cale is the way he is.