Adam was discharged from the surgery today.
The Saga Of The Lump is Truly Over.
It was indeed a benign hemangioma, as predicted.
There is a teeny tiny small possibility of it reappearing, but truly unlikely.
It was not caused by my dropping him. It would have appeared anyway.
Simon and I didn’t realize how worried we still were until the Registrar said ‘Benign. Discharged.’
So glad we had him go through the surgery. Because now?
It’s truly over.
The final instalment of the Saga of the Lump actually started last Thursday. Simon had taken the day off work so that I could go to a Revenue and Customs class on allowable business expenses. He sent me a text in the middle saying ‘Ring me as soon as.’ I texted back saying I didn’t think we were going to get a break what was it. His reply was that the surgeon had rung about possible not doing the surgery as there was a new beta blocker protocol. I was fuming. All well and good to tell us all the options, but 3 days before he was to go in for the surgery?!?!
When I finally got to speak to the Consultant, Mr Dick, he explained that he felt that it was important that we have all the information. But I did not feel like we got it all as he couldn’t tell us side effects, length of treatment or anything else except that beta blockers had been known to work. I told him forget it, let’s operate. He agreed.
We arrived at the hospital at about 745. We checked in with reception and headed up to the Day Procedures Ward (henceforth known as DPW). Simon and I watched with much amusement as a youngish lady walked onto the ward wearing a Little Black Dress. We raised our eyebrows at each other. And then did so again when she came over and introduced herself as a member of the team operating on Adam. There has since been debate as to whether she always dresses that way or if she was on her way out after or if she had just arrived from the night before!
She then informed us that Adam would need his blood typed and cross matched because they just weren’t sure how many veins there were or how big they might be. They usually use something they call ‘magic cream’ for inserting needles on children, but it takes 45 minutes to work and there just weren’t 45 minutes available. So we held Adam down as they tried to get blood out of what looked like a good vein in his foot. He cried hysterically as the needle was inserted, with Simon and I holding him, stroking his face and talking to him. No blood came through the needle, but when the needle was removed he bleed copiously so they put a tube under that and viola they had the blood they needed!
Adam continued to be hysterical as I scooped him up and held him, with Simon pressing a pad on his foot to stop the bleeding, until Adam finally fell asleep in my arms. At this point he was only wearing a nappy as they had to remove his footed PJs to find a vein for the blood letting, as it came to be called!
He slept for about 45 minutes and then we were taken to the pre-theatre playroom. He had remained in just a nappy and it was chilly in there so I regretted not redressing him or bringing him a blanket. It is the only room in the hospital that Simon and I have ever been in that wasn’t completely over heated!
After a short wait, during which Adam entertained himself pushing buttons on this light display thing (if he’d been older, he could have played their Wii! Very well stocked play room!!). Then we were told that since he is 1, only one parent could take him back. So Simon said ‘You go. You can sing to him.’ Simon kissed him and Adam and I went into the anaesthesiology room. Just like last time, when he had GA for his MRI, he fought hard against the mask, but this time even singing didn’t calm him. The gas finally won and he was asleep. I kissed his cheek and his forehead, told him I loved him, and was led from the room. And that’s when I nearly lost it. I was fine up until then, but leaving him there, so small, unconscious, without me, the tears came. The person who was walking me out cracked some stupid joke and the moment passed.
Simon and I were starving at this point so we went to the cafe and had some coffee and some food and waited. And waited. And waited.
Mr Dick just came to us after about an hour and said it was over. Adam was fabulous and it was easy to remove. The mass would be sent to pathology but Mr Dick was convinced it was benign, just a mass of puss and blood and fluid.
After about 15 minutes we were told we could go down to recovery. We heard Adam long before we saw him, crying his head off. He stopped once he saw us. We let him swallow some milk and then took him back to the DPW.
Once there we were informed that Dr Taylor, the anaesthesiologist, was concerned about pain due to the length of the incision. It was suggested we stay on the ward for at least another 2 hours to see how Adam was as the local wore off and then perhaps overnight for pain management.
Adam in hospital pram, post-surgery.
We tried to get Adam to sleep, even taking him for a walk in a hospital pram, but he just wouldn’t settle. At 2pm Simon realized he was starving and went to get a sandwich as I tried to get Adam some painkiller as he seemed sore when he moved his arm.
Just minutes after Simon left, Dr Taylor showed up. I said to him ‘I think he hurts, but he’s so unsettled, I am not sure staying here is the best idea.’
Dr Taylor said ‘Well, how about we give you some codeine, you take him home, where I agree he will probably settle better, and if you need us, ring?’
‘Deal!’ I said and rang Simon, who had just grabbed a sandwich!
And so we came home.
Now, 5 days post op, we’ve had the pressure bandage removed and replaced with regular plasters, which are coming off tonight. His scar goes side to side, when Simon and I both thought it would go up and down. Adam has had no pain. And, as we were told it might, the area is swollen and filled with fluid, which should be reducing in the next day or two. It is, almost, like the lump is still there.
This worries me a bit, of course. But I’ll see what its like on Monday.
Adam has a follow up with Mr Dick in 3 months, on 30th September. But, so far as we know, The Saga of The Lump is over.
Almost a year to the day it began…
Adam’s Surgery is now 21st June. Hopefully this time for real.
Adam’s Surgery – Cancelled he surgeon’s daughter is very ill so he was not available. The surgeon
covering did not feel comfortable doing the procedure.
It will be at least 2 weeks although we are on the top of the cancellation list.
But the surgeon is off this week and next week for sure.
I am frustrated as all hell, but obviously this is the best for Adam.
Today The Saga of The Lump (hopefully) Ends.
Full update once he’s home and fine.
And breathe…
The Lump will be removed on 10th May at 8am.
I freaked out now that we have a date. And then I got over it.
He’ll be fine.
Right?
its not a hemangioma. Which I still can’t spell.
They don’t know what it is.
It will be removed in 6 – 8 weeks surgically.
Just got back.
It is a vascular anomaly or type of hemangioma and may have a vascular inclusion, but that is not clear. Totally benign. *Not* caused by my dropping him at 3 weeks. Perhaps triggered by that.
Apparently the dermatology department have seen these a lot and have found that Beta Blockers, through studies through out the UK, work to reduce them, so that is one option. Our consultant, is going to consultant with them and see if they agree that that will work for Adam.
So option one is do nothing, it will probably go away.
Option two is Beta Blockers.
Option three is surgery, but our consultant is really not keen on that, because if there is a vascular inclusion could mean major, dangerous bleeding. Advantage of surgical removal is then they can send it to Pathology and really find out what it is.
Option four is to assume it is systemic and treat it as such, which means systemic drugs like steroids.
Next steps: Our consultant is going to review the MRI and ultrasound with Dermatology and with Radiology and see if they agree with his feeling that Beta Blockers are the way to go. We should hear from either him or dermatology in 3 – 4 weeks.
It is not harming him in any way. It does not bother him in any way. He sleeps on it, he rolls over it, etc. Our consultant pushed and prodded and poked at it and Adam just lay there smiling at him!
So in another few weeks we should have a treatment plan.
So how does Mummy feel?
Relieved.
I guess I hadn’t let myself think about it much, but I was worried that it was taking blood or something from some other part of his body and doing damage we couldn’t see. I also had some residual guilt from ‘causing it’ by dropping him. So I didn’t cause it, even if the fall might have triggered it.
And since he rolls over it, sleeps on it and seems to not know its there? Adam doesn’t care what we do!
with the rush to get out the door for California, I never did post the whole story about the day of Adam’s MRI. So here it is.
The morning was normal enough, although after 8am he wasn’t allowed anything but water. This made him one cranky boy off and on and a very cranky boy after 12 when he wasn’t allowed anything at all. Very hard to explain nil by mouth to a 6 month old.
Just as we were getting ready to leave, I checked my mobile and found a voice mail. It was from the hospital, about the MRI, no clue as to why. So I rang up frantic, cursing the fact that maybe it had been cancelled. Nope, just a confirmation call. Whew.
His appointment was for 1400 and we were there by about 1345. We only sat for a few moments before we were called back to meet with the first person, who check for allergies, weighed him and things like that. Then we waited another 10 minutes or so for the anaesthesiologist. He was very reassuring and said that in his many many years of experience not one of his patients have ever had an allergic reaction to the anaesthesia.
He also said that since Adam was so big that he would use the face mask, rather than a cannula. I was so relieved to hear that as it mean the whole thing would be pain free for Adam.
After that we carried him back to the prep area. I held him as they put the mask over his face. He began to fuss and the anaesthesiologist said ‘let’s sing twinkle twinkle.’ and I shook my head at him and started to sing Hush Little Baby. Adam began to calm down as the 6 people around us marvelled at my singing voice (um, really?) and said they’d like to record it to use in the future. I believe I looked like this: O__0. The anaesthesiologist then asked if it was Adam’s good night song, which it is.
About half way through the song they had me lift him onto the bed and ushered us out to wait. They said it would be about 45 minutes.
So Simon and I waited. We chatted. We read trashy magazines. I paced around. Finally, they called us back.
He was lying in a recovery area with an oxygen mask next to him. As much as I never want my baby to be under a general again? Him waking up from it was adorable! Big yawns and rubbing of eyes. And then crying with hunger.
They didn’t need the recovery area right away, so I got a bottle sorted and Simon fed him. Of course, as always, I made a mess opening those darn premade cartons. Never have managed to open one of those without spilling!
He finished the first one and we got him dressed. I had been chatting with the radiologist who was monitoring him about what had caused The Lump. I said that I was certain that they still wouldn’t be able to tell what it was from the MRI, like they couldn’t from the ultrasound. The look they gave me said ‘oh I know what it is, but I can’t tell you.’
And then we were done and out the door. We paused for a bit in the waiting area as he was still hungry and then headed home.
We were home around 1630 and the whole thing was over.
We find out what it is and what they want to do about it on 18th January. Until then we just have to assume if it was something awful we would have been asked to come sooner.
So in two more weeks we’ll know.
No problems. Used the mask rather than the cannula, so no pain for Adam at all.
We’ll have the results when we see the consultant in January.