Doctor's Visits

When my son was six months old our pediatrician recommended that he have a CAT scan because in his estimation his head was larger than more than 90% of babies his age.

What?

When my son was born he only weighed 6 lbs 1 oz. He was a peanut. With a big head. His dad was 6’4” with a big head, too. Are we taking that into consideration? I guess not.

I was scared. I was a new mom and now some doctor is telling me my kid has a big head? Not just big, but abnormally big.

Seeing your child have to go through any kind of procedure is just the pits. I remember when I took him to his first well-baby appointment, there was this shot that he had to get in his heel. I don’t remember what it was because it was decades ago. But I had to hold him while they tortured him. I cried as much as he did that day. I always wondered if he would remember that.

Anyway, the morning of the CAT scan I was in charge of sedating my infant. The doctor prescribed some pink liquid and told me to put it in my kid’s bottle right before we left for the hospital. I did it and he drank it and after that he was out. Carrying him was like carrying dead weight. Once we were in radiology the nurse makes her way over to me and looked as if she was going to take my baby. I shot her a look that said, “You have got to be kidding!” She backed up and said, “Oh did you want to come in with him?”

What the hell kind of question is that? I nodded and stood up and carried my son into the room where the scan would take place. I placed him on the table and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. I had to sit down and they covered me with that thing that they cover you up with when x-rays are being taken. I sat in that chair and just cried while pictures of my son’s brain were being taken.

Thankfully, everything came out normal. He just had a big head. He’s since grown into that head.

That was our first adventure with doctors. There have been a few others and I always feel the same way and I always pray the same prayer: Lord, please let my baby be okay.

Now, twenty-one years later, I’m taking him for yet another doctor’s visit. Tomorrow he has to have a trans esophageal echocardiogram (TEE) (google it). And even though he is a grown man I still feel the same way as I did when he was six months old, and I’ll still be saying the same prayer: Lord, please let my baby be okay.