I love these pictures because  I love this side of Noah.  He is a gazer, my little contemplative, and I love to see the wonder and intrigue in his little heart.  It’s amazing how certain aspects of our personalities are there right from the very beginning.  Noah has always quietly and purposefully observed the world around him – with a remarkable depth in his little gaze… oh to know what is swirling in his little heart and mind…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

And the wonder of it all almost always turns into overflowing joy… wonderfully contagious joy!  I love this little boy… he is the miracle and joy of my heart.  Can you tell?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In other news, the neurosurgeon appointment was moved up and so we saw him on Tuesday this week.   He is apparently one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, and he only sees patients on Tuesdays.  So that is probably why we had to wait five hours just to be seen.  The resident came in first, and he actually explained an os odontoideum for the first time, which was helpful.  Then we saw the neurosurgeon for what amounted to approximately twenty or thirty seconds total – during which time, I think I was first insulted and then told I needed to have a CT and come back.   To be fair, the resident tried to prepare us with a nice little disclaimer about his mentor - something about how great he was… world renown and so forth… thus, he doesn’t spend much time with patients and is very direct.  (Apparently, when you are that amazing, you don’t even need to talk to your patients anymore).    So I guess we should have been prepared for it, but it was still hard for both of us.   Afterwards, Stephen wrote a speech to the doctor in his head and I didn’t say much at all… until finally in the car, I just cried. 

I’m not sure why I cried to be honest.  The reason the doctor wanted me to have a CT is because he doesn’t think I even have the os odontoideum, which would be great news.   I think I’m just tired of doctors… and of feeling like we’re just running around in circles accomplishing almost nothing by seeing them.  I don’t have any delusions or false hope when it comes to medicine anymore.  I realize that it is what it is… sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t… and I know that doctors are just people with M.D. behind their names, far from the ’gods’ of our imaginations.   But it would be nice to have a doctor actually read through those papers they make you spend an hour filling out beforehand OR to sit down, ask you what is going on, and when you answer, LISTEN to what you have to say OR maybe, just maybe, remember as they are talking to you that you are someone’s wife, someone’s mother, someone’s daughter, someone’s friend… that the person sitting across from them could be someone they cared about and how would they want that person to be treated by the one they came to for help… is that too much to ask?

My rheumatologist is that kind of doctor.  The orthopedic surgeon that did my last hip replacement (for free because the Lord told him to)was definitely that kind of doctor — he was an incredible surgeon too so he was the whole package (he’s retired now sadly).   And really, Noah’s doctors are awesome too — pediatric doctors are usually great though.   But unfortunately, in my experience (which I think is pretty extensive for a thirtysomething year old), the good ones that are skillful physicians but still see a person sitting in front of them seem to be few and far between.   I’m grateful that the Lord has led us to some of the few though.   And truthfully, if I had to have a neurosurgeon (i.e. if I had to have brain surgery), I think I’d rather have the ‘world renown’ one with all his pomposity than the nice guy or girl that isn’t a good surgeon (not exactly the kind of surgery that allows for significant margin of error)… but wouldn’t it be nice if the “best” came with compassion… kind of like, oh I don’t know… the Great Physician (Who has every reason to boast, but humbled Himself that we would be healed).   Okay – sorry, just blog-venting… would that be ‘blenting’?

Anyway, today I had the CT, and in about a week and a half (the Tuesday after next), we see the nice doctor again.  And this time we’ll bring books and notepads and such to occupy the time during our wait… and hopefully, we’ll be better prepared for the twenty seconds with the doctor too.

I feel like I’ve been living in the reality of Mark 5:26-28 these last few months.  My Hope (capital H hope) is not in any doctor or medicine or anything this world has to offer.  It rests solely in that Man who was and is and will always be God walking through the crowds wearing His heart out on His sleeve.  If I touch even the hem of His garments…

More to come… another post soon.