A Little Boy and the Big Machine
By Ray Shay
Theresa and I were all smiles. You would think we were at Disneyland. "Ryan it's cool! It is just a big machine which makes loud clacking noises. You get to wear special goggles and listen to headphones while you watch a Harry Potter Movie. Have fun with it." We were doing our best to try and put him at ease.
As you can see on the left, Ryan kept looking over at the big machine. I don't blame him. He could sense something was not quite right. He politely followed the nurses instructions and laid down, put on the goggles, headphones and then remained very still as the Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) began to slowly obtain slices of images of his young brain.
Theresa and I did not have to look at each other to know our smiles disappeared the moment Ryan put on the opaque goggles.
The charade was over for a few minutes as we were immersed in our own private thoughts as we continued our search to explain why our ten year old son had missed 17 days attending his beloved Del Sur Elementary School, mostly due to headaches.
As we waited for the scans to be completed, I reflected on what had led up to this day and how Ryan's legs looked so small hanging off the side of that darn machine. I then made the dreaded call. The call where you promise anything in your life to make your child healthy. I doubt God even takes my calls. He and I have had a rocky relationship for a long time.
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| The Big Rope |
As you struggle with your own sick child it feels like there is someone standing on your chest pulling a big heavy rope that is wrapped around your heart. When we received information later in the day the doctor had identified an abnormality in Ryan's brain, the dark, oily rope seemed to increase it's grip.
Of course, you can't stop thinking about it. One of the first things we did is scour the Internet for any information on what the doctor told us was wrong. Looking back, it probably caused more concern than relief. When it is your own child, you tend to think the worst.
Our next stop, (a week later) was a return visit to Rady's Children Hospital. As we waited to see well known and highly respected brain neurosurgeon Dr. Michael Levy, a woman walked into the waiting room. She was holding her son's hand that was about the same age as Ryan.
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| Dr. Michael L. Levy |
All of us including Ryan, said nothing, but we all noticed the little boy's small frame, shaved head and he was wearing a surgical mask. My very first thought was, "How does that mother do it?" We had been on this roller coaster for only a couple of weeks and we wanted off. Parents with seriously ill children deserve to go straight to heaven. For someone's child to be seriously ill seems so blatantly unfair.
After a brief interview of Ryan, Theresa, and I, we we're escorted into into Dr. Levy's office. Behind his desk were several huge, high resolution television screens that had digital scans of Ryan's brain. Time seemed to slow down and almost stop as we waited for Dr. Levy to speak.
Dr. Levy was a pro. He said he had studied the MRI scans of Ryan's brain and he was a normal little boy. He then looked directly into Ryan's eyes and repeated it twice more. By working with children every day, he must know from experience they pick up so much more than parents ever realize.
He explained the previous doctor who had reviewed the brain scans had noted something that he did not feel was a danger to our son. The repeat headaches may have been a result of a bad virus, cold or even a little boy growing up.
As Dr. Levy chatted with our son, the pressure began to lift and I thought of the amazing woman and her son who came in just before us and the
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| Back to School |
countless other parents and children who must have sat in these same exact chairs as their world came crashing down around them.
I knew right then, at that moment, I had to write this story. If Dr. Levy had pulled that rope tighter around our worn hearts, I would have never written any story. I know us. It would be too private. We would have found a way to get off the grid.
Like the vast majority of parents, our children are the center of our universe. As a result, the last few weeks changed us forever. We will never look at a family with an ill child the same way again. My heart, respect, support and empathy is extended to anyone experiencing such difficult challenges.
I will continue holding on to my sketchy communication line with the big fella. If he does pick up or is listening, I will ask him to please help ease the incredible burden that parents with ill children carry. I know that heavy rope tests them and their beautiful children to their core.
Enjoy your children, we only have them for a short time.
- Ray
Copyright Shay Realtors 2015 All Rights Reserved
