Sorry I didn't post this yesterday! It was a whirlwind day, which included a longer test than planned for, me being late for work, and my dad being rescued by search and rescue (I have no doubt that's already made its way down the grapevine, so I have no qualms mentioning it). He's fine, by the way, and we all have a cool story to tell our grandchildren. :)
Mason's test went pretty well. The only way they could squeeze him in for the hearing test on such short notice, was to have him do it in the OR. So we went to Same Day Surgery yesterday morning to check him in, and everything went just as if he was having a surgery; he put on a hospital gown, went into the playroom/surgery waiting room until he fell asleep, and then was whisked into the OR. Latu and I then went to the parent waiting room, which brought back loads of memories. Luckily, this time it wasn't a surgery I was facing, but a simple test.
I did have a moment sadness, though, as I sat and listened to the phone conversation of the woman sitting next to us. I didn't mean to pry, but I couldn't help it. I remember the overwhelming feelings of incredulity, hopelessness, sadness, and pure exhaustion I had when I first found out about Mason's tumor. I remember sitting impatiently, waiting for some sort of answer, hoping those feelings weren't showing on my face, yet I knew they were.
Just like they were written all over this woman's face.
I listened to her talk about how her daughter was having a biopsy of a growth that would most likely turn out to be lymphoma. I heard the tremors in her voice, as she tried to seem strong and hopeful for whoever she was talking to. And I could see right through it, because I had been there myself. I wasn't brave enough to say anything, but luckily I wasn't the only one listening. As she ended her phone call and got up to get a drink of water, Latu urged me (rather forcefully) to say something.
Long story short, we had a conversation about her daughter, who was only 16, and also about Mason. I have no idea if our conversation helped ease her worry at all, or did anything to help. But I like to think that knowing there were other people going through what she may have to face, may have helped this woman feel a little better.
Anyway, Mason's test took about an hour longer than it was supposed to. They called to let me know that everything was fine, but that it would take a little longer. When it was done, the audiologist came out to tell us her results. In short: they were inconclusive, and she isn't trusting the machine that gave the results because they show something different than the other sound test Mason has done (the ones where he is awake, and in the hearing booths), and they also show something different than what they should see if he had hearing loss due to the chemo.
There was a long conversation, and she was very nice and explained absolutely everything (love that!), but she still wants to perform another test in the hearing booth with him, to get a more definite answer. That will be done first thing Friday morning, before Mason is admitted for another round of chemo...leaving me wondering why this test needed to be done in the first place. *sigh.* I guess I should be happy that this is the most of my worries when it comes to Mason's progress, though. And I definitely am.
Anyway, after that, he recovered in SDS, and then we got to go home. From the time we arrived, to the time we left, it took about 5 1/2 hours.
I also got a couple videos of Mason on Versed, which is some hilarious stuff. I'll post it later (probably tomorrow) after I get it off my phone.