Simon Passed All His Tests

Medical tests, that is. A couple of weeks ago I took Simon to a pediatric gastroenterologist. His doctor just wanted to make sure his low weight isn't being caused by a medical disorder, so she referred him to this specialist. This guy ordered a whole slew of tests, even though he assured me they would all most likely come back negative.

They took 4 vials of Simon's blood for something like 12 or 13 tests. One of the tests was for cystic fibrosis, a condition I've been afraid Simon might possibly have--you know, in the wee hours of the morning when you obsess about doomsday scenarios. So, I now have confirmation that Simon is CF-clear. Woo-hoo!

Then there was the stool sample. Anyone ever have to do this? They gave me a biohazard zip-lock bag with a specimen jar and two wooden tongue-depressor-like sticks. Nice! I was instructed to collect the sample, put ice cubes in the bag, and deliver it to the lab within two hours. No problem, right? Well, it took me 10 days to get that sample to the lab. The lab in pediatrics closes at 5 p.m., is closed from noon to 2 p.m., and is closed on weekends. The timing was always wrong. I was on diaper alert during the daytime, but Simon prefers to do certain things in the evenings, I guess. I eventually had to take it to the central hospital lab, which stays open until 11 p.m.

So, after all these damn tests I feel confident that Simon is just fine. He's healthy and strong and smart. I'm not going to constantly weigh him. I'm not going to freak out when I see chubby, large-headed babies. I'm not going to see any more specialists or run any more tests. We're done with that shit.