What a Day

Today was Emerson's FEES study across town. Parking was a major biotch and T and I both had to park a million miles away. Good thing I was wearing brand new cute strappy sandals that the back strap kept falling off. Good thing.

So we get to admitting, and Emerson LOSES HIS MIND. Nothing will make him happy and he is wailing. That's right. WAILING.

Come to mommy.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Come to daddy.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!

So, the seven intake people pow-wow and review their resources. Across the group they have a handful of stickers, coloring books and crayons. The crayons and paper win him over and he is content for the duration of the intake process. Barbara, our intake specialist, is very thorough but mentions about 13 times that she is admitting Emerson for a procedure that she has never heard of. In all six years that she has worked there. Excellent.

Barbara walks us to the place we are supposed to go (because she wants to make sure that we are going to the right place since she has never heard of this before) and sure enough, we are in the right place.

Kelly V. our Speech Professional is great. Down to earth and answers all of our questions. While I don't feel like Emerson's other health care providers have kept things from us, I felt like I got more from Kelly in terms of information. So, while T and I are talking to Kelly, these two Child Life Specialists are entertaining Emerson with toys that light up and make noise. He's sufficiently distracted. The goal is to keep him this way so that while Kelly takes this super thin probe with a bright light on the end of it and pushes it up Emerson's nose and down to the top of his esophagus, he won't notice. Now, remember, I love Kelly. But even this is a stretch to think that Emerson will be distracted while his entire face is being invaded.

Sure enough, my boy melts down and is a big ball of screaming and sloppy tears. We are able to get 3 spoons of food in him and watch the screen - which looks like we are watching an episode of Discovery Health and we can literally see the inside of his throat. It's cool and gross all at once. After gagging and throwing up all over himself, the evaluation is over. Good news: His Pharyngeal Structure is sound (meaning everything sized and shaped appropriately). Interestingly enough, he has a wealth of 'cobblestones' on the inside of his esophogeal lining. What does this mean? It's just little bumps that are indicative of reflux. AHA! I am not sure why they use the clearly non-medical-technical word of cobblestones to describe bumps, but whatever. Good news, part deux: Treating the reflux could get us closer to solving the problem (or it could be the total problem, who knows?). Which leads me to the bad news: We still don't know anything definitively, but we have something to work toward. My positive thinking tells me to focus on that object of all of this.

So, we are in the process of coordinating a prescription to start meds for his reflux and a follow up with his G.I. doctor (of which the earliest is mid-April UGH).

Our little trooper has had a rough few days but keeps on going.

He is just simply amazing.