Second thoughts and a CT scan

Oh, the joys of our health care system.

So We get to the hospital for this pre-op appointment. We fill out more paperwork, and are basically pre-admitted to the hospital. They give is a piece of paper that seems like a 'skip ahead 3 spaces' kind of pass. That's nice - morning of surgery, just go on in.

After waiting a while, we are shown in to get Zyle weighed. Zyle enjoys standing on and stepping off the scale. Hmmm, I've already forgotten. I think he weighs 10.2 kilos. 22.5 lbs, is that right?

We are shown into a small room while a nurse takes his blood ox - or was it pulse? - and his blood pressure. That automatic blood pressure cuff was pretty scary for him. But with the help of a paci and encouragement from Mommy and Daddy he made it.

A nurse came in and talked to us a bit about the procedure. She seemed pretty saccharin and not very genuine. She also gave pretty unsatisfactory answers. Instead of telling us when to stop giving liquids and eating and such, she gave us a piece of paper. That piece of paper had blank spots for those times, but they were empty. And we were told to call the day before to get those numbers, and what time to show up. Uh, great.

Pam asked about the CT scan. Pam (luckily) remember that the neurosurgeon had mentioned we needed to have a CT scan sometime prior to the surgery - could be the day of or weeks ahead of time. But no one had mentioned anything about that in the time since. The doctor had said "oh, just call in to schedule it" as if it was that easy. I would wager 97% of the time when we call any number associated with that office we get voice mail. Occasionally they call us back.

I called the various numbers I had for the office. As expected, I got voice mail. I left messages everywhere.

Meanwhile, another hospital staffer leads us through the maze of the hospital to the lab to get blood work. Walking through the hospital led to some serious second thoughts. For me, this suddenly became real in a new way. It really hit home what is about to happen to Zyle.

We are about to voluntarily have some guy open up Zyle's head and take his skull apart, and some other guy put his skull back together. And why? For three reasons

• a 5-7% chance of a syndrome due to cranial pressure
• a pointy head in junior high/high school leading to extra adolescent trauma
• our uncertainty during any growth spurt or fussiness time that he might be having issues

As we walk the halls of the hospital and see the infants, children, and teens with serious defects or truly life altering issues, none of those reasons feel strong enough to merit this invasive procedure.

We go into the lab. The lab workers offer a salve that numbs the arm but takes 30 minutes to take effect. Please. Let's just do this and get it over with. The nurse is efficient, the blood is drawn, Zyle is scared and cries and we hold him and kiss his tears away. And then we are out of the lab. Whole process takes 5 minutes. maybe. I wish the entire health care system was this efficient.

I'm scared for my baby. Is this the right decision? Pam gets coffee, I get a mango smoothie and Zyle immediately takes it out of my hands. He happily sucks down on the smoothie. I'm watching him so confidently manage this cup that he can barely hold with two hands, watching him navigate handling the straw and sucking versus lifting the cup and drinking. I'm watching how confident and skilled he is and I'm thinking "Why are we doing this?" I see the other children in wheel chairs and IVs and think this can't possibly be the right thing for Zyle.

No one from the neurosurgeon's office has returned my call yet, so we walk out of the hospital, through the tunnel, across to the medical building, and up to his office to find out about this CT scan. I talk to one of the staffers who pulls Zyle's chart.

There is nothing in his chart about a CT scan. Oh boy. That is a big deal. They will have to talk to the neurosurgeon to find out. But he is in surgery all day, so we won't find out about this until tomorrow. And then wait for the office to call us back.

So it looks like another trip to somewhere to get this mythical CT scan, in addition to the surgery trip. Or maybe it will be the same morning. Who knows?

We are still moving forward, but it is all scary.