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Could You Repeat That Again, in English?

The doctor phoned with my son’s kidney biopsy results, and I was more than prepared. I’d been pacing around, jumping at every ring of the phone. I wanted to know whether my sixteen-year-old son had lupus or not, and how his kidneys were functioning. I had already been a bit snippy with the receptionist at the Department of Pediatric Nephrology the day before, who had told me that some “Nurse Diane” would be calling. I insisted that the doctor phone instead.

She did, although she didn’t initially seem to happy about having to do it.

The pediatric nephrologist (kidney specialist) explained that some of the elements in Garrett’s blood which would normally be elevated in the case of lupus weren’t. “So can I tell my son he doesn’t have lupus?” I asked.

“No,” she replied. “You can’t tell him that yet. We still don’t know.” And that’s when she started to speak in a foreign-physician-dialect that sounded like it had origins from a planet outside of our solar system.

Now I consider myself fairly well-versed in medical lingo—I’ve done a lot of research with all my kids’ conditions and certainly more while writing Families.com blogs. Heck, I even stumped a pediatrician once with medical terms she didn’t know. But this particular phone call shot over my head like a rocket at warp speed. I was utterly lost and abandoned. I would type some of the statements here so you could see what I mean, but my keyboard doesn’t have the right symbols.

After asking for some clarification, and doing some careful decoding, what I gathered was this….more….tests….. hepatitis studies…. still not certain… kidneys … no scarring or inflammation. Apparently things looked stable, but problematic enough to warrant further lab work. That meant we’d be back for more tests. And as things currently stand, we just don’t have any specific answers yet.

So it’s back to limbo-land, I suppose. I’m not sure what I’m afraid of. I’ve lived here for a very long time, or at least I did years ago. Waiting. Wondering. Not knowing. It’s an existence where I must just live day to day, enjoying all the laughter and sunshine life brings while refusing to let black clouds of mystery get in our way.

Garrett was off to school, feeling as healthy and happy as ever. “Bye, Mom!” he called. And as he went out the door, a line from a favorite song came to mind: Here comes the sun, little darlin’. Here comes the sun. And I say, it’s alright.

Kristyn Crow is the author of this blog. Visit her website by clicking here. Some links on this blog may have been generated by outside sources are not necessarily endorsed by Kristyn Crow.