The parameters of normal

Today the little Manh and I and Auntie Carol (our backup/driver/fetcher of tea and chocolate/moral support, etc) spent the day at Toronto's Hospital for Sick Children.

It was special.

In so many ways.

I have not mentioned on here that the little guy required follow up to his original upper Gastro Barium study because...well...mentioning it may have made it more real. The possibility of a problem. It would have made me face what the follow up to the follow up may have entailed and I didn't want to go there.

Well, today was the day.
This barium study may have gone worse than the first one.
It started with the trussing.
Wrap my boy (who won't even use a cover at night anymore) tight in a blanket from his armpits to his toes and then TAPE HIM UP mermaid style.
Then restrain his arms over his head.
And ask him to drink barium with an imaging machine hovering 4 inches above his body.
His whole body.

First they tried their bottle which he refused.
Then they tried a syringe feeder and he pushed out much of the thickened barium with his tongue (guess the tongue tie problem is resolved)
Finally they tried Ben's bottle and he drank a bit.
Just enough to get a good taste.
Then he clamped his teeth shut or opened his mouth wide to scream but he certainly had no intention of drinking.

We kept at it...for an hour or so...
my fiercely stubborn boy
with a swallowing delay
displayed his wicked temper and hatred of being restrained
while I fed him flat on his back (a position in which no swallowing delayed person should ever be expected to drink),
restrained his hands over his head,
helped to flip him from his side (where he was somewhat calmer)
to his back to his side to his back over and over again while
refusing to pick him up as he begged me

Special, see?

As I said we did this for an eternity.
Then? Oh, then we used the g-tube.
Just gets better and better.

The doctor needed barium that wasn't thickened...cause the thickened stuff wasn't leaving the stomach...but of course he can't drink a fluid...
The doctor stuck that g-tube in his nose and I watched in awe on the digital screen as it travelled down to his stomach and made an unfortunate loop. Which would not do. So the tube went in and out and in and out until it was just right.
Now Manh is angry AND terrified and flailing about and ripping at the g-tube and blowing with his nose trying to dislodge it and it just goes on and on and on.
And he is begging me to pick him up.
And I don't.

20 minutes later we are free to go.
To the waiting area.
For 10 minutes.
10 extra minutes to see if the fluid leaves the stomach.
Then back to the table. Barely even enough time to stop the hysteria.

No movement of the fluid.

Come back at 10:30. For more digital imaging fun.

Mama and Carol and Ben go for a journey to Tim Horton's for tea...and a chocolate Tim Bit.

It's 10:30 and the fluid is moving now...
in very unusual ways...
ways that the intestine doesn't usually present itself.

This is the first time I'm told not to panic if we get a referral to go to general surgery.
Today.
That things might move very fast.

A crowd forms around the imaging machine.
A radiologist or 2, pediatric gastro guy and his buddy the resident, tech lady, etc.
Crowds are never a good thing.
Often indicate there is something special to see.
Manh screams on in terror of the machine hovering above his head
and in anger at the mama who won't pick him up
and at the restraints on his legs and the lady holding his arm
but at least the drinking is over.

So we go for a wee break.
Carol runs for magazines and peanut butter cups.
We get an x ray
and then 20 minutes later another x ray (which is different than a digital image I'm told)
and to add to the excitement we take a quick trip down the hall for an ultrasound.

Another stretch of time passes while the doctors meet
and review the millions of images they must have by now
(or perhaps go to lunch?)
dude is pulling on the baby bag and stating baba, mama, baba...
like, feed me already.
So, instead we go back for some more digital imaging.
More screaming.
More terror.

And then we can go.
We are done.
Official results will come from the pediatrician but there are apparently acceptable parameters of normal. And dude is right at the edge. The edge of normal.

No general surgery referral.
Today.

So to celebrate we went to have the vein-less dude's blood taken.
The short version...

flat on back (oh oh...not a good way to start)
nurse had arm,
mom had head,
helper 1 and 2 held the legs,
helper 3 held the extra arm,
needle went in to the arm aimed for a vein she couldn't feel but knew was there
"because all babies have a vein there"
and it was,
and he spewed
and helper 4 and 5 cleaned up the projectile vomit

8 oz baba and pureed apricots with a side order of barium

I cleaned him up in the hand washing sink,
we went for Thai


and ended the day with a lavender bubble bath in Auntie Carol's sink
and a good night's rest on our living room floor

(cause there is no way he intends to be left in his crib any time soon)Please note my 11.4 kg/25 pound almost 15 month old Vietnamese son

growing out of his 18 month pj's...
Feeding issues?
Intestines on the edge of normal?
Lets just leave well enough alone, shall we?