The Annual MRI

Last week, Alex had his annual MRI. It has actually never been an annual thing, because there have been complications and emergencies and further brain surgeries, but this year, we hope it will be an annual one. No more Christmas Eves spent in the ER. No more canceled birthday parties for brain surgery. We hope.

Alex demonstrated extraordinary strength at the MRI. He will be three years old in September, so right now, we say he is two and a half. He would have been born in January if he had been on time, so his age is sort of true. One of the great traumas of the MRI is the anaesthesia. It is painful to have the needle stuck into the vein, and then to sit there often for hours screaming uncontrollably while waiting for the MRI to be free, and then to fall asleep with medicine, and wake up confused, not knowing what just happened, and to have to sit in the recovery room for over an hour, hungry and unhappy, and then to fall asleep in the car on the ride home and be cranky until the next day-the whole ordeal is pretty horrible. But the anaesthesia is usually necessary to keep a child as young as Alex still while the MRI--loud and scary--takes its pictures of the brain.

So, last week, we just happened to have an amazingly astute nurse. I mentioned that it was too bad they wouldn't even consider letting Alex try sitting in the MRI without anaesthesia. She commented that it was too bad, but they don't usually even consider it until children are four, and then you have to make an evening appointment and come back the next day if the child freaked out during the procedure. Then she left the room and returned in 5 minutes, excited and in a hurry. Someone in charge had agreed to let Alex give it a try.

Alex had to sit for at least 15 minutes, lying down on his back, within the tunnel of the MRI, without moving a muscle. He could not turn his head or talk or roll over. The nurse gave him goggles to watch Blue's Clues, his favorite show, and then strapped him in. The MRI started, and he just sat there, mesmerized by the show, despite the extremely loud and grating sounds of the machine. Erik and I held his hand and our breath. In the end, he did it! When they wheeled him back out of the MRI, he asked if he could watch Thomas the Train.

After checking the dial on his shunt, we went home, a full two hours ahead of schedule, minus the trauma, and with a happy child in our back seat. We are so very thankful for good nurses. Her decision to give Alex a chance without anaesthesia made our day, changed our entire vacation (we were on vacation in NH that week) and will likely change the next few years of MRIs.