Keep Mason Strong

This past summer my son Mason was like any other kid his age--he was excited to start his first year of high school and even more psyched to start playing for our high school football team.  Mason has always loved football and, I have to admit, he seemed born to play.  He was always in the 100th percentile as a kid and stood a good head and shoulders above all the other kids.   He started playing at three years old and has been going strong ever since.  He spent this past summer like any other--going to conditioning camp and working overtime to get stronger and faster on the football field.  August rolled around and he started practice with his team.  Those summer days were some of the best of his life so far and we had high hopes for the coming year.  Our awkward kid was always too big and too strong and endured his fair share of bullying for it because, hey, when kids are young, they tend to single out anyone who stands out or, in my son's case, who stands tall.  But Mason was finally going to step away from all the childishness and find his way.   We kept telling him that high school would be different.  That the kids were more mature.  And we were right.  He saw that himself during those practices leading up to the start of a new school year.  But he never made it to the first day.  The day before school started he was at practice when he endured a hit with another player.  He was stunned but kept going, trying to suck it up and push through like always.  But a few plays later, he couldn't go anymore.   His vision blurred and he got extremely nauseous.   His neck started to hurt.  The trainer called us and wanted us to take him to the Urgent Care just as a precaution.   Maybe get a neck x-ray to check things out.  All pretty routine when it comes to football. But the next few hours went from bad to worse, to our worst nightmare.  We started out at a local ER and ended up in the pediatric trauma unit at University Hospital.  What the medical team initially thought was a concussion turned out to be much, much worse.  They found out that our son had hydrocephalus caused by congential acquaductal stenosis and Arnold Chiarri malformation.  Long story short, Mason had been born a preemie at 29 weeks and while his progess in the NICU had been remarkable back then, it appears that, unknown to us, he had this condition at birth.  Surprisingly he never exhibited symptoms of any kind.  But when the condition finally reared its ugly head on that fateful day, it was the worst case scenario.   The pressure in his brain was too severe.  The doctors immediately went in to put in a tube and drain the excess fluid.  They performed an EVT which is an alternative procedure to the typical shunt.  Two surgeries later, we are still working at recovery.  We don't know what's in the cards for us as he is still healing and we are still praying for a miracle.  He is still in the iffy stage for the procedure that he had and a third may be on our horizon.  We won't know for a few weeks.  His dream of football may never be realized again and we are okay with that.  He's having a tougher time coping, however.  His entire life changed in the blink of an eye and he can't help but feel that God has forgotten about him.  I know that's not true and I refuse to give up, and that's why I'm here.   We are barely treading water right now with all the medical bills mounting and we desperately need help to hold our family together and continue his care.   Any donation, no matter how big or small, is appreciated.  Even more, please say a prayer for Mason to keep him strong and hopeful.