You hear the admonition, “get a second opinion”, a lot when it comes to medical prognoses. Since we listened to Dr. Google first, we figured it was wise to get advice from a real, practicing neurosurgeon before we put all our faith in search result #4. Which turned out to be a good idea because her perspective over the information, symptoms, and scan results was calm, conservative, and competent. 

While Caleb certainly has Chiari Malformation and while there is a bit of fluid around the tip of the spinal column, she isn’t convinced the headaches are caused by these issues. Certain positions of his head didn’t trigger on-the-spot aches in a way that they typically would if you were getting headaches from pressure caused by build-up of cerebrospinal fluid and the crowding of the area by the cerebellar tonsils. 

The doctor would like him to have another scan in six months to catalog any changes, this time with more detail of the spinal canal. Meanwhile, we are to get an appointment with an ophthalmologist to rule out sight issues and continue treating the symptoms on an as-needed basis.  I know I should be happy that Caleb doesn’t need surgery at the moment, but the waiting game is so hard for me. 

Generally, I’m not a go-getter, mission-oriented kind of person like my husband is (how did we end up together?), but now that I know there is a medical issue and my child is suffering, I’m ready to storm the hospital and lay him on the MRI table myself tomorrow. I need answers now and I need Caleb to feel better! I would like to stop asking him his ‘number’ (on the pain scale) every time he asks for medicine. I would like for him to get better sleep and not fall down all the time. I’d like to know definitively if he needs glasses or surgery. I would like to not go through tribulation to gain patience! Please pray that I can rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, and continue in prayer and that Caleb will have a measure of relief from his maladies.

Kids. They keep you busy. They keep you guessing. They keep you humble. They keep you on your knees. And boy have we been on our knees this year.

The road to life and health has been bumpy, to say the least. Jake’s departure for university definitely put a kink in my emotional health, as I learned to navigate life without the lively firstborn around. I had difficulty calling any outing a “family” event since we were minus one. Wherever we were that required me keeping a count and close eye on where all the children were, my tracking would feel off because I couldn’t ever start from the top down: Jake, Isaac, Ellie, Anna,… My prayer life changed as I had to relearn to rest in the knowledge that Jake was (and always has been) in the Lord’s hands, not mine. Jake going off to college seems to be the beginning of a new stage of life for us that involves relinquishing our former role as “law and order” parents and becoming close advisors instead. How thankful we are that he still comes home to eat our food and use Danny’s car.

Following Jake’s exodus to Florida, Anna decided she needed some attention, so she broke her arm. In two places. We did not need to wait in the ER very long as they realized a person with an extra joint in their forearm probably needs immediate medical attention. A long evening was spent in the hospital while x-rays were taken, IVs were inserted, pain medication delivered, sedation administered, a radial bone set in place, and a splint created. The orthopedic surgeon said this type of reduction has a 75% success rate and to wait ten days when another set of x-rays would tell us whether Anna’s procedure fell into the successful category or not. Because Anna likes to be uniquely difficult, the alignment came in at a frustrating 26%.  At the surgeon’s suggestion, we agreed that surgery to insert a pin would give Anna’s bone the best chance of healing straight.

From a full-arm splint, to surgery, to a second splint, to a full-arm cast, to a short arm cast, to an extraction surgery to a brace, Anna spent the entire autumn with her arm protected and useless. Well, not quite. Though she couldn’t bend her arm at the elbow for many weeks, Anna was undeterred in her efforts to learn violin. The full-arm cast served as a prop on which to set the violin, and when her arm was in the short cast, she could just get her fingers to rest on the fingerboard, allowing her to bow several notes and tunes.

If Anna’s ER reduction, surgery to insert a pin, and then a second surgery to remove the pin seems like a lot to you, just wait, because there’s more. During the medical ordeal that was Anna’s broken radius and ulna, James made a very bold statement, “Come on, Anna, it can’t hurt that badly,” to which Anna responded by telling him broken bones were contagious. Modern words were never so prophetic because a month after Anna broke her left arm, James broke his left arm. Though it was his humerus, it wasn’t funny. Would you go out in public with two kids in casts?? James made sure to leave his imprint on our health insurance bill by taking his sweet time to heal. Instead of the quoted “three weeks in a cast”, his arm took a full five weeks to mend. In that time-frame, he had three different casts and I was earning frequent, yet unwanted, flier miles in the orthopedic office with our weekly visits.

When you have multiple children, you run the risk of having multiple gray hairs. Though we are so thankful for the complete healing of those three broken bones, a new concern has arisen. Caleb has been suffering from constant, chronic headaches since September ‘22. His journey began at the pediatrician’s office, moved along to a neurologist, and now he’s being referred to a pediatric neurosurgeon after the results of an MRI he had this past week. It seems his cerebellum extends into his spinal canal, where it clearly does not belong, dipping roughly 5 mm below the base of his skull. This condition is called Chiari Malformation.

Since our appointment with the surgeon hasn’t yet occurred, we do not have many more details about what will happen next, but we have asked Dr. Google all the pertinent questions, which is absolutely always the best idea. Oddly, its bedside manner is fairly poor and the information is confusing at best and scary at worst. In all of my reading on the topic, Caleb’s case is slightly unique given that this defect is more commonly found in women than men, typically discovered while a patient is being seen for other issues, is usually discovered in adolescence or adulthood, and a majority of people with CM are asymptomatic. Caleb clearly doesn’t fit the profile. As we wait for the next doctor’s visit, we value your prayers for clarity on treatment moving forward and for Caleb’s sustained health and comfort in the meantime.

There is encouragement in the fact that our Lord knit Caleb in the womb this way and being “fearfully and wonderfully made” is just as true for him as it is for everyone else. Our family is not the first to experience trials and tribulations, nor will we be the last, but boy do I ever feel like we have some unique children! Truly, these Limited Edition Allans keep us simultaneously on our toes and our knees. 

I’ve been contemplating the phrase “rejoice in the Lord alway” lately. I’m not sure why it’s taken me until my first 39th year anniversary to understand that I am to do this in both the good and the hard times. We jauntily sing the children’s Sunday school song when all are happy and willing to praise the Lord and believe, not incorrectly, that we are rejoicing right at that moment because we are singing. 

But what about the times when we’re not singing? What about the moments when we aren’t even happy? What about during the hard times? Do we rejoice in the Lord then? It’s not a wonder why the apostle Paul repeated the imperative: again I say, rejoice. Why would he need to reiterate the command? I’ll tell you why. Because of me. 

Because I needed to ruminate on rejoicing, even when I didn’t feel like rejoicing. I  admonish and encourage my children to do all to the glory of God but often don’t equate that I should be rejoicing in all that I do, as well. All too often I adopt what I think is a self-righteous attitude, “I’m the mom, I’m right”, but never are you more wrong than when you think you are right! Raising children certainly has difficult moments, but it’s my responsibility to model the outcome we, as parents, are striving for and the apostle knew that rejoicing in all things would not only bring glory to God but also change the mindset. The thing about rejoicing is that it takes your inward-focused thoughts and turns them into outward-focused praise. 

There definitely have been reasons to praise the Lord recently, not the least of which was the safe return of Jake (and Isaac) from Florida. No one told me a mother’s heart beats for her children long after they are grown and gone and stupidly I was surprised by how Jake’s absence affected me. With him back for the summer, we no longer fit around our kitchen table and if the whole family goes out, we have to take the Monster and the chatter has gone up tenfold and the laundry is backed up by one more kid jumping the line and I wouldn’t have it any other way. When I need to account for all my children and their whereabouts, it’s easier to keep track of the NH Jake than the FL Jake, even if NH Jake is out with friends more than he is hangin’ at home. 

The girls participated in a fiddle workshop last week and were allowed to join the artists in their evening concert. Though this was an amazing opportunity for them, and though Danny and I got to sit in the audience during the concert and watch our girls fiddle, my favorite part of the entire evening was the ride home.

No, not because it was 10:30 p.m. and we were finally returning, but because of the way the girls’ enthusiasm and love for their craft caused them to bubble over with exclamations about the evening and the giggles were plentiful. It was infectious, joyous, and so wonderful to hear them gush about their performance, discussing how nervous they were backstage or when they thought they made a mistake or arguing over whether or not they were supposed to bow (only the principal is supposed to bow on behalf of the whole orchestra) and how badly they felt for the girl who dropped her cello bow partway through and now a love of fiddle music is burgeoning in their hearts. Listening to the girls bond over a shared love of music during the ride home on a dazzling moonlit night was especially precious and I’m holding on to that memory with both halves of my brain for as long as possible. 

It’s easy to rejoice in the Lord for giving these talents to our children and providing safe passage to brothers making a long journey home and for the health and well-being of our family and the warm weather that has finally arrived (for good, I hope) and a multitude of other small and big things.  However, when times are rougher, that shouldn’t stop me from continuing in my praise to Jesus, “Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.” (Psalm 63:7) 

“…rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.” Roman 5: 2-5