Thursday, 18 June 2009

24 shitty hours

Boy, my almost three year old irrepressible cheeky monkey of a son, has had swollen lymph nodes, so his dad took him to the doctor yesterday morning. The doctor said it was almost certainly nothing - but there was a teeny tiny chance it was leukemia. That's right: the doctor dropped the 'L' bomb.

It's funny how the tiniest portion of a miniscule possibility can knock you right on your parental arse. Against all logic, my partner and spent the day almost in anguish. At one stage I sequestered myself in the loo at work, so my colleagues wouldn't see me sniffling. I couldn't wait to get home to see Boy, who rewarded my concern by climbing along the back of the couch and jumping on my head from behind.

This morning, Boy's lymph nodes are smaller, and it seems like the sun is shining again after a storm. Everything's in perspective once more, and the possibility of Boy having cancer appears exactly as it is - almost nil.

So I feel like a bit of a dick. But mostly, I feel grateful for having that thing which is so easy to take for granted: healthy, happy children.


homepaddock said...

Anna, fear for your child was a normal and understandable reaction to the possibility, albeit a remote one, that he might have a serious illness.

I'm delighted it was a false alarm.

The theory of telling patients - or their parents - about all the possibilities is good but in practice it does cause needless worry.

Anna said...

The doctor only mentioned the 'L' word because the one time he didn't tell the parents all the possibilities, the poor little child in question actually did have leukemia. And telling that story didn't help matters either!

We seem to live in an age where rather uncommon health problems get lots of news coverage, often for voyeuristic reasons. I wonder if it makes us (or just me) more paranoid than we need to be?

Maia said...

That sounds really stressful. I'm glad things seem ok.

The ex-expat said...

I've been there myself where the doctors in Korea thought I had lung cancer after mistaking a pre-existing condition for it. The rational part of my brain knew I was right but while they did the MRI of my chest the irrational part of my brain took over and I was weeping uncontrollably and never felt so alone and terrified in my life.