The MRI

Today was a day I have been dreading for some time, the day of Christian’s MRI.  We woke up early, got dressed, and Christian and I headed down into the city.  He had to fast this morning so the poor guy was starving and begging me for milk, I mean really pulling out the big pleases, the entire drive down.  I tried not to get worked up during the commute and instead focused on trying to find the parking structure and get us to the appointment on time.  Once there I immediately found out that I would not be allowed in the room during the MRI.  A small panic started to build in the pit of my stomach.  My nervousness about the day stemmed from the fact that Christian would be sedated for close to an hour, and the thought of not being able to see him breathing that whole time terrified me.  Deep breaths, Chrissy, deep breaths.  

We were shown to a small play room to wait, and Christian was completely distracted from his hunger by all the toys.  As it turns out, we had to wait for a long tim before even seeing a nurse.  We were finally shown to a room where I was given more information about the procedure, asked questions about Christian’s history, and he was prepped for anesthesia.  Next came one of the steps I was not looking forward to, the placement of his IV.  We laid Christian, who until this moment had been basking under the attention of several adoring women, on a bed and two of the nurses proceeded to find a vein in his hand for the IV.  There was no way in the world I was going to watch, or allow Christian to watch, his little hand getting poked and prodded.  I leaned over the bed so I was looking right at him and he locked eyes with me.  I sang his favorite songs to him and rubbed his head, he smiled at me the whole time.  The only indication he gave that anything out of the ordinary was happening was a small “ow” he whispered when they inserted the needle.  I couldn't believe it, I had prepared myself for yelling, screaming, and tears, mostly mine.  He was incredibly brave.  

Once they had the IV in, a splint on his wrist, and a washcloth wrapped around the whole operation, I sat in a rocker with Christian in my lap and read to him while we started our next round of waiting.  After a while I felt him grow heavy in my arms.  When the nurses came back to start the anesthesia, he was already asleep.  I laid him back on the hospital bed and stayed close as they placed sensors and monitors on his little sleeping body.  He woke up briefly when they started the IV drip but I coaxed him back to sleep, and so the dreaded moment of watching him being “knocked out” never even came. 

I was allowed to walk with him all the way up to the door of the room where the MRI would take place.  I kissed him goodbye and tried to be tough as I watched them carry away my sleeping baby.  I struggled to hold back tears as I walked away by myself to wait.  After about an hour, a very long hour, a nurse came to get me.  She explained that although he had almost woken up with a minute remaining, she had been able to calm him back down and they had finished the MRI successfully.  I rushed back into the room expecting to see him pale and limp.  He was snuggled up with a nurse, looking like he was enjoying his nap.  I thankfully took him into my arms, he was still wrapped in his favorite blanket and cuddled up with his “snuggy”, which they had allowed him to take into the MRI.  For a long time we just rocked, I felt a little silly for being so stressed but I knew I wouldn’t feel completely fine until he was awake and happy.  

After a while a nurse asked me to start trying to rouse him.  I rubbed a damp rag on his face and chest, talked to him about getting up, and sang upbeat silly songs.  He was out cold, slightly snoring, and didn’t seem anywhere close to waking up.  I sat back and said “Christian, would you like to watch The Incredibles?”  His eyes flew open, he looked right at me, and said “Ya mom.”  I laughed out loud.  I made good on my promise and found some Incredibles footage on youtube for him to watch on my phone as I continued to rouse him, get some fluids in him, and chat with the nurses.  Within an hour he was given the okay to go home.  As I pushed him out of the hospital I thought of all my anxiety that had been surrounding this appointment.  I never should have doubted that my strong guy would have sailed right through.  But having him back in my arms, and asking for his favorite movie, was a beautiful relief.

Falling asleep before receiving any of the anesthesia.

Getting his medicine.

Back in my arms.