July 25, 2007 by Marj Hatzell
the contents of his rice bucket.
You know, the great, cheap sensory activity? A plastic storage tub with five pounds of dry rice, lentils and pasta. As in, not cooked rice, lentils and pasta. Did I mention it is dry? Like, not cooked?
The child won’t eat anything remotely healthy, but by golly, he’ll eat it if it is related to bread or crunches in anyway. I sware he got the idea from the dog, who goes behind him nibbling up the rice he hurls around the room. Swear, even.
The good news is that Bugaboo does not have Diabetes Insipidus. YIPPEEE!!!
However, I am a little miffed that when Bug Boy had an MRI a few months ago (right around the time that my doctor crush, the adorable Bollywood-gorgeous Neurologist, left duPont) the interim NP neglected to tell me that Bug Boy has a little condition called Chiari Malformation. When I started with the new Neuro, no mention was ever made. Fast forward two months to today, I take Bug Boy to see genetics in our never-ending quest to be sent in circles (and receiving the same information) from the doctors. You know, “We have no idea what it is. Nothing is really conclusive in the tests. But, that is soooo weird. Let us know if you find anything out.” The geneticist is looking over all of his information on the computer, asking me a few questions and then she says, “So, what are the doing about the Chiari Malformation?” And I was all, “What?” And she was all, “You know, the Chiari Malformation? The brain thing? Like, you know.” And I was all, “uhhhh???”
It happened just like that, I am telling you. Except she has a thick german accent and it kinda comes out half-german and half-cheerleader.
Then I came home and tried calling the Neuro. The office is closed at 4:30. I decide to read a little about it online. Hmmmm…interesting. Can sometimes be related to fine motor delay (check), headaches (check), ringing in ears(check), problems with balance and coordination (check, check, check) and neck pain (check). Holy. Stinking. Carp. This is the first thing that anyone has ever told me that has ever made sense. Ever. EVAR. Meaning, I wish I knew sooner, but it doesn’t matter a hill of beans because now I know. Now we wait for the neuro to call back so I can
biatch them out ask them nicely to refer me to a Neurosurgeon for a second opinion…