Jack has lots of numbers. Jack has one tooth. He has taken zero steps. He says zero words. He stands on his own for two seconds at a time. He has slept through the night three times. These numbers that define him are pretty low. Except in doctors and doctor appointments. Jack has five doctors. Jack has a pediatrician, a chiropractor, a neurologist, a neurosurgeon and a physical therapist. Jack had four appointments this week alone. But as of now, Jack is down to one.
I blogged awhile back about how we had to take Jack to the ER one night because he had a seizure. That was back in March. Finally, after doctors and tests and tests and doctors, we have a definitive answer of... he's fine. HE. IS. FINE. Those are short words. They make up a short sentence... but the weight of that sentence is ginormous. I would like to say that I always knew he would be fine. That deep in my soul I knew that this would be the outcome. But, I didn't. I didn't panic either. I didn't freak out or lose it, and I stuck by my mantra of not panicking until there is something to panic about. That being said, I would gaze at his head and wonder. What is in there? His blood work was normal and we learned that awhile ago. His EEG was normal. We learned that not long ago. His neurologist felt that things were fine. We learned that a few weeks ago. But, there was that dreaded word that kept hanging around. Tumor. Nothing excluded a tumor. So, tumors lingered in my mind. The what ifs hung out there with the tumor. What if he had one? What if it was inoperable? What if it was a choice of whether or not to operate but he may not survive? What if its not all ok? But, now I can say a hearty "piss off" to you what ifs because I don't have to keep you in my head anymore. Because there ain't nothing in Jack's head that isn't supposed to be there. Take that, what ifs!!!
Starting at about 2:30pm today, when the neurologist called and told me what I was 95% sure of, I can look at Jack's head and not wonder if something is in there. I can stroke his hair and not fear what lies beneath. I can look in his eyes and know that those eyes don't hide anything painful behind them. Jack is fine. The best three little words I have ever heard.