Jeanna
and I went to Dr. Farrell’s office the following Wednesday for a 10:00 am call from Dr. Tantry. We sat in Dr. Farrell’s office and talked
about our trip to Baltimore. Dr. Farrell discussed the information about
neurological diseases and pregnancy. Jeanna told her, “We understand the risk. If this happens again, we’ll deal with
it. We’ve been through so much
together. I think God has prepared us
for whatever comes our way, good or bad.”
Dr. Farrell’s phone rang. It was her receptionist. Dr. Tantry was on
the line. Dr. Farrell used the external
speaker on the phone for the conversation.
The two doctors spoke for several minutes in “doctor lingo.” Jeanna and I picked
out what we could understand. Dr. Tantry mentioned all of the tests she had run and where
they were going. It would take weeks for
the results. She talked about the next
MRI and mentioned that it was a research procedure. We would not be charged for it and we would
not have to go through the insurance company for approval. It was up to us. A knot developed in my stomach. “What was she saying?” She kept talking and mentioned the other
child who had the similar condition. Jeanna interrupted and asked, “How is she doing?” Dr. Tantry calmly
and solemnly replied, “She is not with us anymore. She passed away about a year ago.” It was hard to swallow. I think I always knew I would hear this
information one day, but I was not prepared for it. I asked, “Dr. Tantry,
how long does he have?” She said,
“Everyone is different so we really do not know an exact time. You’ve told me that you want me to be
completely honest with you. If you want me to give you an answer based on my own experience
though I will tell you. He will
probably have at least six months but he could have as much as 10 years. My honesty requires me to say that I would
plan for the shorter term.” She talked
more. We tried to listen. In tears, Jeanna
did ask one more question that I can recall, “Dr. Tantry,
you mentioned the little girl that died had a brother. How is he?”
Dr. Tantry said, “Mrs. Bullins,
I regretfully say, the eldest child passed away at age 7. Her brother is 4 and is showing signs of the
same degenerative neurological disease.”
We asked, “How will it happen?”
Dr. Tantry said, “Death will be peaceful. Corbin’s heart will stop beating. His brain will stop sending the signals to
his lungs to breathe. There will
probably be no warning. You may put him
to bed and he will simply not wake.” I’m
sure there was much more said, but my brain buried that information somewhere
in my soul. We just couldn’t take any
more details.
We had been down so many paths
searching for answers. In a way, it was
a relief. We’d opened so many doors
looking for a diagnosis. Up to that
point, our answer had always been, “We don’t know.” Well, we finally got the answer. It surely was not the one we wanted. But it did tell us where we stood.
Men and women are different. Jeanna and I walked
out of the office and she said, “I’m going back to work. I can’t deal with this now. Let’s talk about it tonight.” Not me.
I couldn’t face work. I called
Chief Hensley and told him, I would not be in that day. We talked on the phone and I told him what
had been said. He said, “Take what you
need. The fire department will be here
when you are ready to come back.”
I sat in our family room and
cried. I thought of all the things
Corbin and I would never get to do. I
begged God to take my life and not his.
I hope I wasn’t disrespectful to God but I probably was. Why would he allow this to happen? Was I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? I prayed.
I cried. And I prayed and cried
some more. A father is not supposed to
have to endure the death of his son. And
that’s when it hit me. Think about what
I just said. A father is not supposed to
have to endure the death of his son. Who
else did that? This is where my belief
in God was tested. Maybe not by God
intentionally, but it was tested. Did I
really believe what I had seen and heard in the Bible or was I just putting on
a façade? Jesus took m