Relieved apprehension

The MRI is done and dusted and I’m proud to report we survived. J really took it all in his stride. He was happy that morning, despite having to fast and when he discovered the toys in the day surgery waiting room he was extra-chuffed.

Here he is doing his best ‘Billy Ocean, Jump in my car’ impression, just before we got called down to imaging.

The process went really smoothly. J was scheduled to be first in, we arrived at 7am to admissions and by just after 8.10am Mr P and I were back in the lift having farewelled an unconscious J just before he was slid into the MRI chamber. My face was streaked with tears.

I lost it just after walking out of the MRI room. Leaving him there was the hardest part. The door closed behind me and it started me off – messy, sobbing tears. The nurse who walked out with me held me and told me to go get fresh air, or whatever I needed – coffee, cigarettes, a stiff drink. Come back up in about 45 minutes.

I liked her approach, she was a ‘darl’ grey-haired nana type. Salt of the earth. I then fell into the arms of Mr P and went down for prescribed caffiene, fresh air and a breakfast baguette.

My leg was jumping the whole time, I was jittery and just wanted to see my boy and know he was alright. About an hour later we were called in to see him. He was just waking up, he was crying and coughing due to the tube that was down his throat.

It was confronting, but it was felt so good to hold him again. I then tried to soothe him as I lay on a hospital bed with him and we were both pushed down to level 2, with Mr P walking beside us.

It took a good 20 to 30 minutes for J to wake up properly, so we took turns to walk the corridors with him while he calmed down. He did a bit of a vomit and then he seemed to come good. He started to eat and drink and then wanted to get down and play, like nothing had happened.

We were out of there by 11am and already J seemed fine and happy. I exhaled. Relief.

But now we just wait to hear from the neurologist. Apparently he is meeting with colleagues to look at the scan today. But we were also told if we don’t hear from him by next Friday, that we should give him a call.

So, I try not to think about it too much and get on with things, but everytime the phone rings my heart skips a little beat.

7 thoughts on “Relieved apprehension

  1. so happy all went well.. let us know the outcome of the tests.. such a brave little man and brave parents too.. xx


  2. Little kids hey? I swear sometimes theyre tougher than we give them credit for ( and certainly a lot tougher than their mothers! )


  3. Such bravery from all three of you. Will be interested to hear the results. Thinking of you both.


  4. Been thinking of you three. I’m in awe of your strength and your openness to share the journey with us is really endearing.


  5. Very brave J Boy. Reading your blog Bel, and I could feel the pain and tears you guys would have been in. I know I would have been the same. Good on “nanna” nurse for looking after you. Its tough being a parent. xxx


  6. We are just scheduling an MRI for our daughter Tilly (15months) . She was also born with unilateral facial paralysis. I already have butterflies thinking about her laid out under anaesthetic, but we need to find out what has happened to the nerve. Tilly has partial movement inthat she can blink her eye but not smile on the affected side. Reading your blog has givenme a bit of insight into the barrage of test that are to come. Thanks


  7. Like you say the kids take it in their stride . It’s the mums and dads who need the hugs . X


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