Darn it. Got the results from the C-spine MRI this morning.
See, it was supposed to come back negative, proving me to be a neurotic, test for everything kind of mama even when there’s nothing to worry about.
No such luck.
The MRI was of the C-spine, the top of the spine that meets the skull and down 7 vertebrae or so. They found a 12 mm syrinx. My understanding is that this is your classic case of “poop rolls down hill.” (Sorry, you have to remember I’m around little people all day long.) The cerebellum is extending down 18 mm below what it should be, and because of that it is forcing spinal fluid down 12 mm or so into the spinal column creating a cavity. For a more eloquent description, see http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0002373/.
Have you ever gone through something in your life where the thought keeps running through your mind, “This shouldn’t be happening to me?”
Good news? This MRI shows the Chiari malformation to be 15 to 16 mm versus the 18 mm the MRI of Andres’ brain showed us in February. Now, this may just be a variation due to the differing views of the MRI, but in theory we can assume it’s definately not growing worse, and perhaps it is shrinking a little. Yes, I’m forever the optimist.
I find myself irritated at this condition that is so out of my control, like a hose that springs a leak, and just as I think I’ve got it patched, it pops up somewhere else. But this isn’t a hose, it’s my son. He’s just a little boy, one of the sweetest little boys ever to walk the face of the planet.
These MRI results are following the natural pattern of a Chiari worst-case scenario, according to the research I’ve done. The possibility of a syrinx is why I wanted this MRI so badly in the first place, so I am not shocked that it showed up. I just wanted a happy ending, NOW!!! One way or another, we’ll get a happy ending, it just looks like it’s going to take a little longer.
How am I? Well, I have peace about most of it, although I guess a more common term for the irritation would be anger. Not at anyone, just at this darn Chiari. A bigger concern is that I am not able to just throw myself down at Christ’s feet and pour out my petition for healing for Andres. I’m holding back, because I know that sometimes healing doesn’t happen the way I want it to, so it’s less painful to ask for what I feel sure Christ will supply, grace for the journey, his touch on Andres. Yet, I need to know that I have done EVERYTHING in my power to help my son, not to mention I feel guilty for allowing my fear of disappointment to influence my prayer life. So if you think of it, would you pray that my prayer life would reflect total abandon on my part of my fears and total trust in the Great Physician?