The Little Pituitary That Could

When Nathan was a toddler, he stopped growing. I'm not exaggerating. He flat out STOPPED growing. We had this Winnie the Pooh growth chart on his closet door, which had all these little marks with dates on it... except all the marks were on top of each other, and we were running out of room on that one spot for the dates. When I took him to his pediatrician, he would say, "Don't worry. You're short. Your husband is short. Sure, his growth doesn't even track on the chart, but statistically speaking, he's right where he ought to be."

Right.

So I put up with that answer for a couple of years, and then found out (through the amazing insights of a pediatric dentist), that all we needed to discover if there was anything pathologically wrong was a wrist x-ray. That would tell us his bone age, and we could decide from those results if further inquiry was necessary to determine the source of the problem. (If there actually was one. Which I was pretty sure there was, despite my lazy doctor's opinion.)

So I went back to the dolt of a pediatrician and demanded a wrist x-ray. Reluctantly, he agreed. Lo and behold, our 5 year old had the bone age of a 2 1/2 year old. "Okay Dr. Smarty Pants. Now what?"

So we were referred to an endocrinologist and several blood tests, MRIs, and consultations later, we had a diagnosis of Growth Hormone Deficiency (GHD) for Nate.

Treatment for GHD? Daily injections of synthetic growth hormone... to the tune of about $50,000/year, which our insurance company did not like to pay. So, after about a year and a half on the stuff, and six or seven inches of growth later, he was no longer eligible to receive the treatment.

Bummer. He was left to drop off the charts again.

But don't feel bad for Nathan. Oh no! It seems his pituitary has a mind of its own these days. It seems to have forgotten that it doesn't work properly.

In the past year, his clothes have apparently all shrunk. His voice, which used to sound like mine, has suddenly begun to echo his father's deep, resonating tone. And the rage... Oh! the hormonal rage... Yup. Nathan seems to be growing as quickly as he did during those first few months of treatment (4 1/2 inches in 6 months! ...It was like watching Gumby stretch!)

But after all that hard work getting him diagnosed (a process that took about a year, and was actually the motivation for my return to higher education), I actually said these words the other day as he pointed out another pair of jeans he can no longer fit into:

"Nathan! Stop Growing! We can't afford you any more!"

...Definitely one of my prouder parenting moments.