I alluded to some specialist appointments that had to be made in my update post. You know, that post in which I updated…and then abandoned you again. If you’ve been hanging around here long enough, that shouldn’t have fazed you. If it did, well, you’ll learn.
Back to business and nuts – at Little A’s two-year well child visit, there were a few things of concern.
- He wasn’t speaking. I knew this. Speech therapy is ahead.
- He wasn’t growing. I knew this. The checklist to rule out any major issues was expanded to include a blood draw, three month follow-up and a visit to a Cardiologist to make sure his murmur wasn’t a bigger issue than we thought. Which was exactly zero issue since he’s had it the whole time and it was labeled “innocent”. UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. We see the Cardiologist in three weeks.
- He has a giant ball. SAY WHAAAAT. I literally cracked up when the pediatrician pointed out his monstrous testicle. I had been prepared for the speech delay, the growth delay, I had even already considered the murmur, but an enlarged cojone?! Nothing could have prepped me for that.
We got the referral to see the pediatric urologist. Whose name, not even joking, is Wang. I can’t make this shit up. The pediatrician thought it was most likely a hydrocele which is a hole in the sac that allows for a slow leak of fluid. Most of the time it’s caught before the baby turns one, so either Little A had a slooooooow leaker or no one has been paying close enough attention to his nuts.
The urologist determined it to be a inguinal hernia, and don’t ask me to explain it, because kid was throwing a fit in her office before, during and after he was examined and I didn’t get a full description. Either way, it requires surgery to repair it. I don’t need to know WHAT is wrong. Just fix it! Fix my kid’s balls!
I’m sorry, I feel bad for making fun of the #$!#$ baby, I really do. He isn’t in pain but it sure can’t be comfortable. But it’s his balls. BALLS. I have the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy, so. This is just the cherry on top of my summer, honestly. Like of ALL things, it’s this. It’s just so damn funny to me.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled that he needs to have a surgery or need to be put under anesthesia. But so many people I know knew what I was talking about right as I explained the situation. It’s a common procedure and he should be in and out in 20 minutes. I keep telling people the worst part of the whole thing will be driving in downtown Baltimore.
As it approaches I am feeling a little more nervous, mostly because I know how clingy/cuddly/cranky he can get when he’s sick and I’m sure he won’t be feeling very good down there for awhile. I’m also supposed to keep him from horseplay for like THREE @#%@!$# WEEKS, so that’ll be a fun challenge.
I just can’t believe I didn’t notice the fairly significant testicular sizes. Whoops. I should also mention that when the pediatrician pointed it out, while I started giggling, my first thought was HOLY SHIT I’M NEVER GOING TO BE A GRANDMA!
My brain sort of jumped a few decades there. It was a serious and immediate concern. I don’t have a set, I don’t know what goes on down there.
That’ll be my next few days. Tending to a swollen, surgically repaired sack and trying to keep a two year old relatively still. Wish us luck. We’re gonna $%@# need it.