Chiari Malformation (Alternate Title: The Worst Days of my Life)

I remember the day of the phone call most clearly.
"Yes ma'am, the test results are in and the doctor would like to speak to you in person."
Can that ever be a good sign? I'm thinking no.
It had started a few months earlier. T-bone, just eight years old, had a lot of headaches. In the beginning, we attributed it to his allergies. But they got worse, and more frequent.
Then, on Thanksgiving Day, he ate heartily. He's always loved good home-cooking. But later in the day, another headache came. This one was so bad, he threw up everything he'd eaten.
These headaches were getting unusual, and seemed to be on another level.
There were other symptoms too, but by themselves didn't seem terribly alarming; numb/tingling fingers, and visual oddities.
The doctor recommended a CT Scan, "just to rule out any problems". So he had the CT, but the doctor reassured me that it was probably indeed just his allergies and/or something viral.
Until that phone call.
I had just iced cupcakes for Ladybug's birthday. I was taking them to her class. I managed to call the kids' father (my now-ex husband) and told him to meet me at the doctor later. Then I managed to smile and fake it through Ladybug's classroom birthday party. Meanwhile, I felt like my whole world was falling apart, and any time I had a moment to think, I prayed, Please God don't let it be cancer. Please God, take me, not him. I was horrified. My first thought was inoperable brain tumor. Because that's how my brain works.
The news was not that bad, but still terrifying. They suspected Chiari Malformation. A term I'd never heard before, but would run through my mind constantly for the next several months. They wanted to do an MRI. If they were correct, he would most likely need neurosurgery.
Brain surgery.
My little boy, my firstborn child, still (always) my baby.
I didn't even have the internet back then, so I hit the library. I researched and printed pages and pages of information.
Then I went home and cried.
I knew in my heart that he had it. And I learned that it wasn't something that surgery would magically fix forever. It was something he could deal with, to some extent, for the rest of his life.
I cried out of fear, sadness, and guilt. What did I do wrong, to cause him not to develop properly in the womb? I thought I'd done everything right; I ate right, took my vitamins, everything. But I was sure I'd done something wrong, to cause this.

to be continued.......

Part II