It's been 22 months since that horrible shunt revision turned fifteen days hospital stay. Since then, we've have numerous pleasant outpatient appointments and a successful-all-went-better-than-expected surgery. Yet, we are still dealing with the psychological consequences of that experience.
Yesterday, Evanna had a urology follow up appointment. The doctor wanted to feel her tummy, which reminded me that I had seen an odd little bump under her abdominal shunt scar a couple days prior that seemed to go away when she sat a little different. That side of her abdomen did feel firmer than the other side. When he felt it, he agreed that she had a mass on that side and wanted to get it checked out via ultrasound. In fact he called radiology right then and there, in the room, to see if they could do it while we were there. When they couldn't fit us in before we needed to leave for other obligations, he had his nurse call and schedule us for an ultrasound in the south clinic, a little closer to our home, the next morning. The urgency was a little disconcerting even though he agreed with me on what it could be and stated that he only wanted to make sure it didn't fall between the cracks.
The possibilities: just some scar tissue from the initial shunt placement surgery or an abdominal pseudo cyst that can sometimes form at the end of the shunt tubing. The latter would necessitate surgery to drain and excise the cyst and relocate the distal tubing.
So I spent the waking parts of the next 27 hours, until his nurse called with the results of the ultrasound, feeling a little sick to my stomach and on the verge of tears. Fortunately, I've gotten good at hiding it so we could go about our day as planned. Getting that call and hearing that the ultrasound was clear was such a welcomed relief!
