Crisis Averted...but by the grace of God.

You know - it's crazy the things we go through as parents.  As families.  We roll with the punches and go with the flow, and then suddenly we're hit with a ginormous left hook, always out of nowhere.  Such has been our last couple of weeks. 

Paige had a birthday on January 17th, Don on the 16th.  We spent a weekend at Great Wolf Lodge in Charlotte to celebrate.  Had a FABULOUS time.  We took a boat load of photos, as we always do, and sincerely enjoyed ourselves.  We returned on Sunday and as Don and I were reviewing the pictures, he brought up a good point.  He noticed that in a vast majority of photos of James, his eyes didn't reflect the same color.  What is referred to in photos as "red eye" - was red in one eye, white in the other - consistently.  James has always had an issue with camera flash - in 90% of the photos EVER taken of him, if a camera flashed, his eyes inevitably closed.  We'd never noticed.  This time it was impossible to miss.  Photo after photo, it was the same.  Lighting differences made no difference - his left eye flashed white.  Don said he had seen "something" on the news relatively recently about a boy with a red and white flash...it was "some sort of medical issue".  GREAAAT.  Not exactly the words I was prepared for.  I hit up google.  Bad idea.  All sorts of ugliness flooded my brain while I awaited the appointment with the pediatrician 2 days later.  Eye Cancer being the scariest, and OBVIOUSLY that was what we were talking about here.  I just knew my boy had cancer.  Either that, or a brain tumor - he's got a bit of a speech issue, so I just knew it had to be SOMETHING serious - and seriously scary.

Tell me he's not the cutest boy you've ever seen.  Go ahead...you CAN'T, CAN YOU?!?!?!

So we had an appointment with the pediatrician on Tuesday.  I picked 5 photos from our weekend in which the red/white discrepancy was blatant.  She took one look at them, uttered the word "disease" and sent us immediately upstairs to opthamology.  We spent several hours with the eye doctors.  They did tests on his eyes, reflexive and responsive tests with highly calibrated machines.  I was so amazed that they could set him up with this machine - blow some air into his eye and tell me "Nope.  He can't see."  Did I mention scary?  Yeah.  I love navy docs.  Turns out the woman was not a doctor - but she still had a hand in my heart plummeting to my stomach as she said  "Your son can't see out of his left eye - hold tight while we run some more tests and see what we can find out."  Wow.  What was happening??   I immediately texted my mom with an update and asked for prayers.  I called Don and left a choked up voicemail on his phone "Baby, our son can't see.  I could really stand to hear your voice.  Call me when you get off work."  It wasn't until we met with the doctor and got some clarity that my brain stopped spinning and my heart slowed down to a manageable bpm.  It's not that James couldn't see - he just couldn't comprehend.  His left eye is extremely far sighted.  Not functioning at even a 20/600 level.  He can SEE, his eye is simply not "wired in" to his brain.  He's been diagnosed with a lazy eye - though it doesn't LOOK like a lazy eye and we'd never have known had we not noticed the white reflex in the photos.

Back to the pediatrician.  Glasses on order (a +6 prescription), patching his right eye 2 hours a day, everything is ok.  That's when the pediatrician drops the ball on me "I can't understand a thing that boy says, I want his speech assessed asap."  WTF.  OK really?!?!  From one crisis right into another on the same day?  "He might have hearing problems as well, so here call this number in 5 working days and they'll tell you when they can get him in for a hearing assessment as well."  (This is where Mom starts to lose it entirely).  A sight issue, a speech issue, a hearing issue?  I asked the pediatrician point blank "Could there be a brain issue here that we're not looking at?"

That question took all the strength I had.

She replied simply -

"I can't rule that out.  Get this testing done and we'll see what we have to go off of."

Um, excuse me whaaaaat???  She did not supply the answer I was looking for.  I had wanted to hear a simple "Oh Mrs. Rhine don't be absurd.  You've been spending too much time on WebMD, James is fine quit being paranoid."

Honestly - I don't know that I've ever been so scared.  I immediately called the speech assesment contact and set up an appointment for Tuesday the 24th.  That night I sat with Don on Skype and drank 3 glasses of wine.  Might have been 4.  Was probably 5.  We were both scared...but I thanked God for the gift of wine (he knew what he was doing when he turned the water into wine!) and  I prayed for the health of my only son - and my own sanity in the mean time.

The 24th finally rolled around and we had the assessment.  He needs speech therapy - I could have told you that.  He has issues with articulation.  The good news is, he can SAY the sounds, he just doesn't put them together well.

His hearing is fine, he passed a preliminary test with flying colors.

The better news is, his cognitive skills are advanced into that of a near 5 year old.  He'll be 4 next month. James is one smart cookie (gets that from his dad).

His glasses came in yesterday - and they are so "HIM". 

He doesn't have a tumor. There's no brain issues. 

He will be in speech therapy and eventually his left eye will work the way it should. 

~ All that fear for nothing.~

I should have trusted in God from the get go, but I chose fear.  As much as I'd like to say it'll never happen again, I know better.  I am such an advocate to "let go and let God"...funny how easy it is to GIVE that advice, and how hard it is to LIVE that advice - especially when it comes to someone you love.  Seems backwards.

My family is my everything.  God is my strength.  So why is it that when it comes time to be my strongest, I forget that He is there to hold me? 

And that's when He reminds me I still have so very much to learn.  At least I have a good teacher...

And, thank God, a healthy family.

I'm one of the lucky ones.