Pediatric Neurology

In the past seven and a half, almost eight years, from our sudden dive into the hectic world of brain injury to the present, I have been thrown in the path of many doctors (and I'm sure several of those doctors greatly regret it -- "uh-oh. Here she comes."). We have seen pediatric specialists of all sorts -- surgeons, hematologists, gastroenterologists, orthopedists, neurologists, etc., and even a wonderfully talented neurosurgeon.

I have a great respect for the profession as a whole, but I have found that certain types of doctors seem to have similar personality traits. From the cheery aspect of the pediatricians we have seen to the architectural precision of the orthopedic surgeon, it is sometimes surprising how well they fall in line. The biggest exception is probably Noah's neurosurgeon (though I know no others with which I can compare) being somewhat a mix of the two I have mentioned.

The one that stands out as being the -- ahem -- cheeriest of those we have seen has to be the pediatric neurologist. I have yet to listen to one that didn't spout an excessiveness of Murphy's Law. "You have CP? Well, this is the very long list of terrible things you will experience, and they will all get worse until you die."

Honestly, it was one of the things that made the first year and a half more difficult. Now that we have found the Institutes -- a place that focuses on using the things you can do to help you get better at the things you cannot -- it doesn't bother me so much. Indeed it can sometimes give me a good laugh.

Which brings us to Noah's yearly check-up with his Pediatric Neurologist. Now let me say, that I really do like this man, because he really does seem to care. He loves children and is gifted in working with them. That caveat aside, at our appointment he prepared himself to go once again down his long list of the ways in which Noah must have gotten worse, and called in his new intern presumably because he likes saying all this aloud.

The "problem" was, he could not find a way in which Noah had actually gotten worse, though he certainly gave it a capital effort. He asked about seizures (Noah has had none in the last year), and he asked about the muscle relaxers Noah was taking when he was in all that pain last year (he is now off and pain-free). He checked Noah's rigidity (and noted how it seemed much less than before), and he noted to the intern how children with poor posture have crooked spines ("But Noah's is very straight," he said.)

He finally finished with, "But that is because Mom is working very hard with him." Of course he couldn't refrain from adding, "But will we eventually see some curvature."

"We'll see." I thought with amusement.

Overall, I thought it was a very good visit.