Head Case

Our latest adventure begins with Palmer's 12-month check-up last week (well, okay so it was a month late but I had to wait for my health insurance to kick in on March 1). They did the usual measurements of height, weight, head circumference, head circumference, and head circumference. Yes, they measured it three times just to be sure, and yes, his head circumference is 50 cm. Apparently that is way off the chart -- well over the 99th percentile. I thought it was a good thing. Big head...big brain...smart kid, right? Plus, big heads run in my family. I was sure that was all -- just a giant melon head on the poor kid. Doc, however,was concerned and ordered an MRI ASAP.

Since babies can't hold perfectly still for...well, any time at all, they have to be under general anesthesia for an MRI. That means, no food or drink after midnight the night before. Our appointment was not until 10 a.m. so I knew this was going to be an issue because, when it comes to Palmer and food, the kid can EAT! He was a bear all morning, and I had to time it wisely to get Camden to eat breakfast while I kept Palmer out of the kitchen because I knew the mere sight of food would throw him into a tizzy. At the hospital, Palmer did pretty well and even played quietly with toys until it was his turn for the gas. When the nurse asked if I had any questions, there was but one..."how soon afterward can he eat?"

When they were ready to begin, the nurse came back and scooped Palmer up and whisked him away. I was allowed to watch while the anesthesiologist fit the mask over his face, and then I was promptly instructed to leave. I am sure what she really said was, "He is going to be just fine, we'll take it from here. You can make your self comfortable in the waiting room and we will summon you when the procedure is finished so you can hold him in your arms, rest assured that he did just fine. You are such a good mother, so we'll care for him just as lovingly as if you were here yourself." But, what I heard was, "You can go now. The waiting room is that way." I didn't even get to give him one last hug and kiss, but I did a good job of holding back the tears. That is, until Rob called a few minutes later to see how everything was going, and asked, "did you cry?"

After two hours, once Palmer was fully awake, I was summoned from the waiting room by the recovery nurse. As soon as I walked into the recovery area, I could hear Palmer howling his "feed me now" cry. To my dismay (and contrary to the original nurse's answer) they would not let him eat in recovery. They said I should wait and see if he could keep down water and juice first and then wait another 30 minutes before introducing solid food. They were concerned because he was so violently agitated, but said that can sometimes be a side effect of the anesthesia. I, however, knew it was sometimes a side effect of different disorder I call "not having eaten since yesterday!" They let us leave after 30 minutes, warning me that he would likely be cranky the rest of the day. As soon as we were in the car, I started stuffing Cheerios in his face as fast as he could swallow. When we got home he ate, and ate, and ate. Interestingly enough, by the time he finished eating, the irritable side effect had also worn off -- what a coincidence. (BTW, he was successfully able to keep everything down, including the three bottles of water he drank)

As of this posting I am still waiting to hear from the doctor to find out what, if anything, the MRI revealed. The main thing they are checking for is hydrocephalus, which can't be cured, but can be successfully treated, but we believe he has a hereditary disorder called Chereck Head Syndrome (AKA giant melon head)...just as I suspected.