the waiting game



Still no real answers from Sam's doctors. There's a lot of talk about how rare this is, and a lot of interns coming in to peer at him- baby doctors, is what I call them in my head. They're cute, all inquisitively asking the same questions, all confusion and wonder. They look at my husband as though he is some privilege they receive, this statistical, diagnostic wonder. And I suppose he is, and I'm grateful they get the chance.

The waiting, though, is interminable. They can't seem to lower the pressure in his head at all; it isn't climbing, but it isn't going down, and we're at about the end of what pharmaceuticals can manage. The next step would be a spinal tap- more of a drain, the word "tap" used the way you'd tap a maple tree. I hope we don't get there, but at least that's an option before all the talk of stents and shunts.

So that's where we are. Waiting. Hoping. Crossing everything. Knitting, incessantly, that too. But mostly just waiting. I'm getting better at that.


  One thought on “the waiting game

  1. May 27, 2010 at 9:30 am

    Our culture does not like waiting. If you are getting good at that, I don’t know, you should teach others. I’m a nurse and one of the buzzy ones, those who can’t stand waiting.
    I hope you sort out things, pathological wise. My best advice would be not to be scared. Maybe afterwards you will think the dread was worse than the real thing ♡

  2. May 27, 2010 at 9:54 am

    Sending many warm thoughts, and cyber hugs for you and Sam …

  3. May 27, 2010 at 12:09 pm

    Oh, Sarah, I’m sorry for the waiting. It’s worse than the knowing. I’ll keep your family in my thoughts. I hope you have some good news soon.

  4. May 28, 2010 at 2:36 pm

    its like

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