Chapter Seven: My Story (Big Daddy Weave)

Author note: In response to my guest reviewer, since I can't send them a reply to their review: A Chill is a small frozen treat available here in the US. No relationship to chili whatsoever. The best ones (in my opinion) can be found at various public events, usually in the flavors of lemonade or strawberry. I usually end up getting mine from the frozen treats section at my local grocery store, where they actually have lemonade, strawberry, mango, and cherry (they may also have chocolate).

I don't know whether Chills (or their various copycats) are sold in Canada, but for my story, they are. I do know that hospitals in the US will have small food items (like Chills) available for patients between mealtimes (or who just came out of surgery…aside from the nausea, you are not allowed to eat before the surgery…sometimes it can be 12 hours or more).

Three physical therapists and a home nurse were scheduled to come in the weeks after Alanna came home. All but one only came the one time and the last came twice. Alanna rapidly recovered her strength and, within two weeks of coming home, was getting caught up on her homework from before her illness. The decision was made to keep her at home for another week or so, but then she'd be back in her routine as if nothing had ever happened.

Greg did take her to the Healers, asking if the shunt would be affected by either her magic or magic in general. All of them were quite perplexed by the 'Muggle' device, but, after testing it as best they could, concluded that magic was unlikely to affect it. Alanna, with wide violet eyes, asked if it would keep her from becoming an Animagus; her uncle choked at her choice of words.

The Healer ran another scan, frowning to himself. "I don't believe so, Miss Calvin," he replied. Then he brightened. "Let me ask one of my colleagues."

He departed briefly, returning with a pleasant, rather young-looking woman. "I understand you're looking to become an Animagus someday," the woman remarked, looking at Alanna.

Alanna serenely agreed as her uncle stifled his laughter from his seat behind the Healer.

"There shouldn't be a problem," the woman reassured them, "I've run across this before, when wizards run into trouble and end up, for one reason or another, being treated in the Muggle world. There's a small window of time when your magic hasn't adjusted to the new additions and you can run into issues, but after a day or so, your magic knows the Muggle device is there and adjusts accordingly. In fact, one wizard was in the unusual situation of having a Muggle pahcemocker and his magic kept it from being overwhelmed by normal magic." Greg whistled, impressed at the story.

Six months after her initial collapse, Alanna went through an angiogram (2) to allow her doctors to check on the status of the sealed aneurysm. About a month after that, they had an appointment with the doctor.

Alanna was a bit nervous as the surgeon who'd saved her life and his nurse came into the checkup room. He was a tall man, taller than her uncle and maybe about Uncle Wordy's height. He had dark hair that was cut short and equally dark eyes; his demeanor, however, was very friendly and he shook her hand enthusiastically.

"I'm Doctor Lopen," he introduced himself. With an introductory gesture at his nurse, who waved, he added, "This is my nurse-practitioner, Kaffen." The woman smiled at her, her brown eyes twinkling and her long dark brown hair done up in a ponytail.

Dr. Lopen sat at the computer, bringing up several images as he spoke. "The aneurysm has healed very well. We'll have to keep an eye on it because that could change, but for now, it's doing well. However, while I was treating it initially and also when we did the angiogram last month, I noticed another condition."

"I remember you mentioning that, but I'm afraid I had other things on my mind," her uncle remarked, leaning forward in his seat.

The doctor nodded. "At the time, we had more important things to deal with," he agreed. "With the aneurysm under control, though, we need to discuss this." He turned the monitor and pointed out something on the medical scans that Alanna could sort of see, but she didn't understand what he was trying to show them.

"I diagnosed a condition called Moyamoya. It's a gradual thinning of the blood vessels at the back of the skull. There are no symptoms, no way to tell that you have the condition…until you have a massive stroke. At which point, treatment is too late to make much of a difference."

His finger shifted, pointing at a new area. "Now, the aneurysm formed at one of the main arteries that supply the brain with blood; the exact location where it formed is where the artery branches into two separate arteries. It probably formed because that artery is doing more and more of the work. More blood is going through it and drastically increasing the blood pressure in that area." The doctor traced the sealed aneurysm and they could see how the increased blood pressure had pushed a part of the artery wall outwards like a balloon, creating the aneurysm. "Now, if the pressure starts pushing the coils we used to seal the aneurysm back into the aneurysm, we may have to do more corrective procedures, but for now, the coils are holding just fine.

Uncle Greg spoke up. "So, what does this mean for my niece? Is she living with a ticking time bomb?"

"Yes and no," Dr. Lopen replied. "Certainly, this has to be treated, but treatment is straightforward and I've yet to run across an instance where the treatment hasn't successfully alleviated the risk for stroke. The thinning veins we can't treat."

He stood up, moved to Alanna and traced an invisible line on the side of her head. "What we do is we take a blood vein that runs above the skull and route it under the skull, attaching it to the brain. Once that's done, the brain takes that vein and grows new blood vessels which take over for the veins that are shutting down. If necessary, we can repeat the surgery on the other side of the skull. But only if it becomes necessary; most patients are just fine with one surgery." He smiled at both of them. "Also, Alanna is young, which means we have time to get this done before it becomes an emergency. I don't expect any firm answers today."

Greg cleared his throat. "What are the chances that you would have found this if she hadn't had the aneurysm?"

A sorrowful look. "Unfortunately, as I said, Moyamoya has no symptoms until the patient suffers a stroke. Because of the aneurysm, which did remarkably little damage, we did find it."

"What do you think, mia nipote?" Greg asked his niece after they'd looked up the good doctor online as well as a few medical sites about Moyamoya.

Alanna considered thoughtfully. "What are the odds?" When her uncle looked at her in surprise, she elaborated, "What are the odds that I'd get the Chief of Neurosurgery, who has, by the way, spent most of his career studying and developing ways to treat Moyamoya, to treat my brain aneurysm?"

Her uncle blinked at that. "Probably very low, mia nipote," he admitted.

"That's what I thought," Alanna agreed. "I don't want another surgery, but I think I have to anyway." She looked unhappy. "If the magical world can't treat a brain aneurysm, I doubt they can do any better with this."

"Agreed."

"So, tech-side is pretty much my only option," Alanna concluded, still thinking aloud. "And I know he said this wasn't a rush, but probably better to just get it done, yeah?"

"I hear you," Greg replied quietly. "Not exactly the news we wanted, is it?"

"No, but it could have been worse," Alanna remarked. Then she grinned a little. "I do think we found out why my magic didn't do anything."

"And why's that, sweetheart?"

"If my magic had healed me, the Moyamoya would have still been there," Alanna said simply, before heading off to do her homework, leaving her uncle gaping behind her.

Greg Parker labored over the word processor on his computer; he was remembering why he usually tried to avoid typing reports. Or maybe it was the subject matter he was having the most trouble with. Either way, he needed to do this final update himself, because most of his team didn't know every last detail. He had no idea what the reaction would be, wasn't even sure about his own reaction, really. So he fussed and fidgeted, got up and paced as he thought the update through yet again, and finally found the words to say.

"I have come to the conclusion that, as awful as this was, it happened for a reason. Far too many things went just right for it to have been mere chance or coincidence. As much as I don't usually ascribe things to God, this time I don't see how I can avoid it.

Of the things that went just right and conspired to protect Alanna from serious harm, I have complied the following list:

1.When Alanna fell off the couch the night this started, she fell on her stomach, which kept her from choking as her body refused to stop throwing up.
2.My team was not on-call or scheduled for a night shift, which means I was at home when Alanna needed help.
3.At the hospital, when the doctors and nurses left her on her back and unattended, Lance and I were present to keep her from choking.
4.When the doctor initially refused my request that Alanna be taken to Rush and I pressed her for her opinion, she decided to consult the neurosurgeon from Toronto Western Hospital who just happened to be outside the door.
5.Had I called the ambulance that night, the neurosurgeon would not have been there.
6.When Alanna reached Rush, she ended up in the hands of the Chief of Neurosurgery, who, as it turns out, has a great deal of experience with the condition Alanna was ultimately diagnosed with.
7.Despite the night's delay, Alanna received treatment for the brain aneurysm quite swiftly, resulting in no permanent brain damage.
8.Although she has yet to go through the treatment for her condition, Moyamoya, the doctor has assured us that, once complete, the odds of her suffering another aneurysm or a stroke are very low. On top of that, the risks involved in the treatment are also very low.
9.The one permanent effect of the aneurysm was dealt with by way of a surgery to install a shunt in her head, replacing the system that never came back. The shunt will, hopefully, keep her from having any more headaches due to spinal fluid buildup.
10.Many times, an event like this means that certain activities and events are restricted, usually for life. Alanna currently has no medical restrictions and she is not expected to have any in the future.

The list above is merely the most visible things I have had the opportunity to observe. There may be others in the future. As much as I might want to deny it, I've found myself with the inevitable conclusion that God must have a plan for Alanna. I can think of no other logical explanation for everything that happened.

Thank you all for supporting us in this difficult time,

Greg Parker"

~ Fin

Author note: And as we come to a close, I can share the driving force behind this story. This story you've just read is my story. Now, obviously, I changed things to fit with the Magical Flashpoint 'verse, but the majority of the story is either unchanged or as best as I can remember it.

I was all of 24 (a few months shy of 25) when I had a killer headache exactly like I described Alanna getting; my parents found me on the floor of our living room the next morning and called 911. As I've been going to Rush since I was an infant, my mother requested that I be sent there when our local hospital concluded that they could not treat me.

The fireworks I mentioned did happen the night of the surgery to install the shunt; I had that surgery on July 4th of that year and my father and I watched the fireworks through the window of my hospital room. I was released from the hospital the next day.

I do indeed have Moyamoya, though it's primarily found in Asian populations. Why I have it is probably something we'll never really know, but I do. The treatment for Moyamoya is, again, just as I described and that may become a future Side-Story…haven't decided.

Thank you for reading this story; I'll try to avoid self-inserts in the future (and if anyone's curious, no, Alanna is not based on me…except for her pink-hating…that's all me).

Our next story, "Trial by Moonlight" will kick off this Friday, May 25th, 2018, right here in the main Flashpoint archive.

On a RL note, as I write this on Monday, we still have yet to hear from our new company. Frankly, the only reason I know I have a new job is because I've been told that by my current company. We're also supposed to get 5 paid days (business) off before our onboarding date...right now it looks like we will get, at best, four. That's if we hear something today. If we get more news before I post this, I'll add it, but for now, please pray that the Lord would grant me patience as I wait on Him.

Tuesday update: I have called this meeting to tell you there is no news. (I wish I was kidding when I say we actually had a meeting like that last week.) As of this morning, still no sign of the elusive, rarely seen offer letter in the wilds of Reston, VA. Oh, and I'm posting this chapter with my phone's hotspot since our company's Internet is down. I'm just waiting for them to post on the company's online chat room that the Internet is down. They did that last time the Internet went out.

[2] A type of X-ray test used to map out blood flow in a particular area, such as the head or heart