Now I know what's next

My son had a CT scan yesterday. He started having migraines a couple of months ago out of nowhere. Some are so bad they make him throw up. And then all of his coping skills (even 4 ½ year olds have at least a modicum of coping skills) went totally out the window and his emotions just went off the charts all the time. So the pediatrician thought it was a good idea for him to have a CT to rule out anything scary.

And I wasn’t even all that freaked out. Because you know, things like my son having a brain tumor don’t happen to me. I live in this safe little mind-world where bad things don’t happen to me and they certainly don’t happen to my children. Although admittedly, this year has been a bit of challenge to that made up belief system what with the quarter incident and the pneumonia and now the migraines.

But still, I’ve been very proud of myself for not really freaking out that much. But this week has been really hard. His emotional stuff is getting worse and yesterday we were out to lunch at one of his favorite places (just one of the bribery cards I had to pull out in order for him to lay still for the CT) and he just collapsed and started crying saying his leg hurt and he couldn’t move it. All of a sudden. Without anything actually happening to his leg. And when I got him calm enough to tell me what happened he said, “Nothing happened; it just felt like someone took my muscle away.”

So now? Now I’m freaking right the fuck out. There it is. I’m totally freaking out. Because that happening is almost verbatim what our pediatrician said was a key neurological symptom. And most likely I’m going to have to wait through the weekend to hear back on the CT results.

In an effort to try to curb the freaking out, I’m trying to keep us busy. And I’m writing. Because writing always keeps me sane, even when I’m clearly not. But I’m having a really hard time reaching out to anyone. Because I can’t stand one more person telling me that he’s fine and I shouldn’t worry. Because I can’t stand feeling like a hypochondriac (even if it is only self-imposed). And because I’m just not quite ready to let anyone in to this space of absolute fear.

Because I’m the one who is always strong and can get through anything. At least that’s how it looks on the outside. But I know, as do all of those people who have known me for more than 5 years, that the only reason I get through stuff is because of the people in my life reminding me of my own inherent strength and bringing me back to it. Because my first instinct is to crawl into a little ball with a stiff drink and cry.

That’s where I want to go right now. But instead I have to figure out what to do with my children for the next week until they go to my parents’ house for a week. And I get to stuff all of my fear down deep so that my children can’t see it and can’t feel it. And I get to “put on a brave face” and play the waiting game until I find out what’s next.

And quite honestly I don’t know what I’m hoping for more. A clean CT scan or one with something on it that we can fix. Because if it’s clean, we still don’t know why he’s going through all of this stuff. And I hate not knowing.

So yeah…now I know what’s next. And I told you I didn’t want to know.