Author: geekino

Yellowstone!!

I can’t believe it! We actually made it to Yellowstone this year! Those of you who know where we were last year when we’d planned a trip to Yellowstone can maybe understand how monumental this is.

The trip up didn’t go without incident. (See the blog entry at this link for detailshttp://www.cotaforpatrickh.com/node/1001), but we arrived in West Yellowstone Thursday afternoon unscathed, despite an extra 2 hours sitting in traffic.

Because we arrived a bit late, we didn’t have time to go into the park the first day. So, we wandered around West a bit. First we had lunch at a little cafe we discovered in winter a few years ago. It’s a small place with a very local, small-town feel. We were so surprised when we told the waitress Patrick was waiting for an intestinal transplant and she told us the owner’s daughter, age 30, was listed for one, too. That, plus Patrick’s usual flirtatious play, won her over quickly.

After lunch, we shopped for souvenirs and took Patrick to play at the city park. Then, after doing Patrick’s daily TPN change, met the rest of Brian’s family at the playhouse.

Yup, Patrick went to his first play. It was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast put on in a tiny little room that seated maybe 100 people. The cast was also ushers and consession sales. Patrick did really well, I think. He watched a lot of the play.. liked the songs.. but was nervous about the Beast. And, of course, he always gets jumpy when there’s applause involved.

After a dinner of buffalo burger and huckleberry ice cream, we turned it… It was nearly 11 by the time I got meds, fluids, and PJ’s all in order and got Patrick to stop tearing around the room and go to sleep.

The next morning, Friday, we actually made it into the park for a day of walking through geyser basins and looking for animals. (We spotted a baby black bear and a bald eagle, among other things.) Brian and his brother did and impressive job maneuvering a stroller around stairs and hills in the trail.

Patrick did well for the first half of the day, and was pacified well enough by looking at books and toys on the ride back.

After dinner, we decided to turn in early.. we were sunburned, sore and tired.

It’s a good thing, too.. because Saturday morning he was up and whimpering around 4:30 a.m. Finally, I gave in and pulled him out of his crib and into my bed…. only to remember why we don’t do this. He tosses and turns and about kicked us both out! Around 5:30 he decided it was awake, anyway, and we gave in and got up and packed.

We went to breakfast early at the same cafe where the waitress was thrilled to see him.
Then, we went into the park to see Old Faithful. Patrick surprised me by actually being interested in the geyser, though the pictures don’t show it.

We left about noon and Patrick and I slept at least half of the drive home. By the end, he was pretty tired of being in his carseat and pretty bored with the same selection of toys. Isn’t that part of a roadtrip, though?

What a great few days it was! It was nice to have finally made it.. and best of all, to Yellowstone, which is such a big part of the Hoopes family legacy. We’re so grateful we were able to share it with Patrick at long last!

I’m not feeling quite as superstitious anymore about saying the “V” word.

Attempting a vacation… Line by line

Since Patrick came into our family, we’ve made several attempts at a vacation… and all in vain. For a while, I superstitiously didn’t even want to say the word, for fear that it would end up with another infection. It seemed that the bigger the plans, the bigger the catastrophe.

But.. several months ago, when Brian’s parents suggested a trip to Yellowstone with his family, we couldn’t resist the chance to make another attempt. We booked a room, cleaned our house, packed our bags. With each step closer, I just kept waiting for the hammer to drop.

On the 5th, Patrick’s line sprung a pinhole sized leak. It wasn’t even visible.. but the line pulled air when I tried to draw back and sprayed when we flushed it. So we ran up to the hospital to have it repaired. All went smoothly, especially for 5 p.m. on a holiday. We even made it to a family dinner, just a little late.

Patrick with line newly repaired modeling some of the sterile gear required.

The next day, just after I connected the TPN to the repaired side of the tubing, Patrick stepped on the tubing. The glue used to repair a central line takes 3 days to fully cure, and the tug from stepping on it was just enough to undo the repair. It set back my packing several hours, but we ran up to the hospital and got the repair done.  We were still going to make it, darn it!

I stayed up late packing, then the next morning got up at 7 to drive Brian to work. All day long, I worked to get ready and was stunned to find myself actually loading up the car.

Patrick had an appointment with his GI in the afternoon. The plan was we’d go to the appointment, then pick Brian up from his office, and head north to Yellowstone. I was grinning ear to ear as I left the appointment, knowing we were on the road at last. I was so anxious to go that I even did Patrick’s TPN tubing change in the back seat as Brian drove so we’d get out of town before rush hour.

An hour and a half north of Salt Lake we stopped at a rest stop outside of Malad. Patrick needed a diaper change. As I was taking him out of his carseat, his tubing caught on the buckles. The repair came apart, again.

We had to decide what to do next. It was an hour and a half back to Primary Children’s. Or, it was a little more than that to the hospital in Idaho Falls. I’m not sure what possessed us, but we decided we didn’t want to turn back. We’d gone to great lengths to get a spare repair kit to bring with us, just in case. Surely the repair could be done at another hospital.

So, we made the quick but nervous drive to the hospital, arriving around 8 p.m. Eastern Idaho Regional Medical Center is one of the best hospitals in Idaho. But it is an adult hospital. Which meant an adult waiting room with scary things like chest pains and seizures, broken bones and more. They were kind and willing to help, but got slammed with these difficult cases all at once, so they asked if we’d mind waiting in the waiting room.

Around 10, they finally invited us back to a room. The doctor came in and we tried to explain what was wrong. He seemed a bit stumped about what we were trying to explain about one lumen of a double lumen line being broken. Finally, Brian spoke up and said, “We have a repair kit and know how to do the repair, but we need some supplies and a sterile environment.. and maybe some help.” The doctor agreed to let us do the repair.

The nurses did their best to gather up the extra supplies that we needed. they were a bit different than what I’d seen used, but I knew how to use them. They also offered a nurse to be my assistant as we worked.

The process of repairing a broken line is a simple one, but must be done just right. First, the people doing the work puts on full sterile gear, including mask, gown, and cap. The line is clamped off so it won’t bleed. Then, the line is sterilized. Using sterile scissors, the broken part of the line is cut off. This cut must be perfectly straight. The repair piece is then connected. It has a tiny metal tube inside you slide into the remaining original line. You test to make sure it flushes and draws without leaking, glue the two pieces together, cover the repair with a protective plastic sleeve, then fill that sleeve with a sterile glue to seal the work. It’s delicate, sterile work.. but not really complicated.

Or so I thought.

It was so strange to be gowning up to do this. I was nervous, but pretty confident. I’d seen this done at least a dozen times.. and twice already this week.

Once I started, though, I got scared. Because the line had been repaired (and trimmed) twice in the week already, it was too short to repair just one side. A double lumen line is made of two tubes encased in one that branch out a couple of inches past the insertion point. I had to cut the line where the two tubes were still one.. meaning we had to shut off the TPN for at least 4 hours from when I finished the repair. That added some pressure.

Repairing this section is harder, too, as there are two little metal tubes to fit into the two sides of the double lumen tube. The work was more delicate and the fit was more essential.

As I worked, I felt like a bumbling idiot. I was guiding the repair. The nurse assisting me had never worked on a line repair before, so she had to follow my instructions. Brian was talking me through it, but had to work to keep Patrick restrained. My first cut was a little crooked and leaked when flushed. The second cut fit. I slid the sleeve on and tried to fill it with glue, only to discover that the glue was slippery! I’d seen nurses struggle with this before, but never imagined that that was the problem. I’d insert the needle into the sleeve to fill it with glue and it would slip out of place. I probably spent 10 minutes or more trying to put the glue in.

Finally, it was done. We tested it, dressed it, taped it down as securly as possible, filled the line with heparin so it wouldn’t clot… And the reality sunk in.

My repair seemed really sloppy and if I’d screwed up, we were hundreds of miles from home or anywhere that knew how to fix my mistake. And Patrick’s TPN was shut off… couldn’t be restored until the line was fixed and the glue dried for at least 4 hours!

I kept my calmest face on as they did a quick discharge… then went to the car, buckled Patrick in, gave him a lollipop to keep his blood sugar up.. then sat down and cried as the impact of what I’d just done sank in.

We drove to Rexburg, arriving around midnight. Brian checked us in and we moved the luggage. Patrick loved the hotel room… a suite, so we’d have a fridge for the TPN. He stayed up playing till about 1, when I finally succeeded in singing him to sleep. Then I said some very urgent prayers for help that my feeble attempt would be good enough, and that I would regain a sense of peace and confidence. Then I fell asleep, too.

I dreamed all night of broken lines and taking lifeflight to Utah because I’d made a mistake. At 2:30 it was supposed to be safe to use the line again. I got up flushed it slowly… no leaks. Then I started the TPN. I sat up for the next half hour and checked again.. still no leaks.

In the morning, we all slept in.. exhausted. I’ve never been so grateful for room darkening curtains in my life! Patrick had slept soundly… no whimpering like he does when TPN isn’t running. I pretty well expected to find him soaked in leaked TPN when I got him up, but the dressing was still dry.

The repair held well and is still holding.

We ate breakfast, packed our bags, and got on the road again. I can’t describe the feeling of relief and joy as I watched a very happy, healthy Patrick walking along behind the luggage cart on the way out of the hotel.

We arrived in West Yellowstone early that afternoon. We’d made it!

I’m afraid the stories from the rest of our trip will have to wait for me to write them down in the morning. Needless to say, it was a wonderful week! I am so grateful to a Heavenly Father who understands the importance of small things like finally taking a family vacation and hears and answers prayers to the effect… who helps and guides and sends the Comforter when needed… Who helps to qualify a sometimes awkward, impulsive and anxious mother, with the help of a calm and constant father, to do unimaginable but necessary things – all for the good of her family and child.

http://www.facebook.com/v/1424011274297

Fireworks

Last year, we watched our community fireworks from the roof of Primary Children’s Hospital while Patrick was admitted for the first of a series of yeast infections. This year, we were able to take him to see them in person. Patrick isn’t bothered by big fireworks. He just sits back and watches them. He does think it’s kind of unfair to keep him up so late… though he really did enjoy the time to play with family.

For the 4th, my family had our tradition “Tank Wars.” We build origami cities, incorporate them with fireworks, then send in firework tanks to set the whole thing ablaze. Patrick was not so happy with these. They were close and much more dangerous. However, he also couldn’t keep his eyes off of them.

It’s always an occasion for Patrick to have a holiday at home. We felt really spoiled to have a whole holiday weekend.

Swimming!

That’s right! Patrick go to go swimming for the first time last week! Brian’s company had it’s summer party at Cherry Hill waterpark.

This is a super big deal! You must understand that we were told that Patrick couldn’t even have a bath in a bathtub as long as he had a central line. But – after experience with baths and trading ideas with other parents, we decided that we could probably pull this off.

So – I packed an enormous duffel bag full of emergency medical supplies, just in case his central line dressing got wet.

We waited till his 1 hour TPN break so he wouldn’t have need his backpack. We dressed him in his brand new swimming suit.. and then we got started on the waterproofing. First, came an aquaguard, a waterproof piece of plastic with adhesive that you can cover the central line with. We tucked the ends of his line up inside of that. Then, we wrapped his torso in Glad Press n’ Seal wrap to catch any gaps in the aquaguard from him moving around. Then we put his little swim shirt on and headed down to the water.

When we sat down in the kiddie pool, he was pretty uncertain.. Daddy splashed water on his head and I thought that for sure he was going to decide he was done. Then we decided that since it was a wading pool, maybe a walk would help. Brian took one hand and I took the other and away we went. This was the clincher. He was fine being in the water once he realized how much extra balance it gave him.

Once he was comfortable in the water, he was brave enough for other games. He sat in our laps and kicked to splash. He went with dad down the water slide. His favorite, though, was for Brian to take him by his hands and swing him way high in the air, and then splash him down in the water. So long as he didn’t get too wet above the waist, he was happy. (We can’t complain too much about that. It helped protect his line.)

After about half an hour, we had to go back to get his TPN reconnected. But he was pretty tired and done by that point. We dried him off. (Our waterproofing worked and his dressing had stayed dry.) And got him dressed and he had a great time making friends at the barbecue that came with the rest of the party.

Chalk Art Festival

Earlier this month we took Patrick to the annual Chalk Art Festival. This event is an awareness event/fundraiser for the Utah Foster Care Foundation and a natural place for an adoptive family to go.

We arrived just as the event opened spent the morning wandering up and down street watching the artists finish their work. It was a perfect morning for it! Patrick got balloons to play with on his stroller, which was enough to keep him happy. This was the first of many opportunities this summer to feel like just a normal family doing fun summer things.

Therapy update

Just a quick update, for those who want to know. We saw Patrick’s physical therapist this morning. I was hoping she’d be pleased by what she saw, and she was. This is good news. It means he doesn’t need a brace quite yet.

After a week of twice daily stretches, Patrick is beginning to put his right heel down when he walks. When he’s going slowly and deliberately, he can do it almost every time. When he tries to go fast, it’s back up onto his toe and he starts to trip and veer to the left.

The therapist says this means that it’s almost certainly a matter of tone. For whatever reason, the muscles in that foot are pulled tight. When he thinks and controls it, he’s able to get them to stretch into ways that allow him to walk. When he goes fast, he can’t control it and the foot is pulled up and in.

So for the forseeable future, we’ll keep doing exercises to stretch out the muscles so that he doesn’t have to fight as hard to control them. Kinda like how you stretch out a balloon before you blow into it. The more we stretch, the more flexible the muscles will be.

He still loves walking, though! All day long I wander around putting walking toys in positions so that he can find them and push them across the room. Last night, we went out for a walk around the sidewalks in front of our house. For the first time, I didn’t take a harness to hold on to and he tripped and fell a few times, but most of the time got up and kept walking. Now we’ll just hope he’ll keep trusting me.

And when he does start walking, I’ll probably be sorry that I pushed so hard for this. After all, right now I spend all my time following him around and putting things back that he pulled down or out. Walking just means he’ll be quicker in his path of destruction.

Walking . . . Well, almost

When I started Patrick in heavy duty physical therapy 3 months ago, he was crawling like a wounded soldier.. on his belly with one leg dragging. The goal we set then was for him to be able to stand and walk. Last week, it’s like the little lightbulb flicked on and he’s brave enough to be putting some serious effort into learning to walk.

It started when he found a toddler walker (the medical kind) in the physical therapy office. His therapist pulled it out so he could play with it. Before we knew it, he’d made a successful lap around the hallway in the clinic. When we got home, all he wanted to do was stand and walk around the furniture.

The next day, I weighed down his little cart from Ikea with 10 lbs of flour and away he went.. Walking the cart across the room with me holding onto him by his harness to keep him from falling. Before long, I decided the space was too small, so we went outside. He pushed his little Ikea cart with me holding onto him for balance all the way from my house to the school parking lot behind us.. We sat down and rested after a couple of laps in the parking lot. I thought he’d quit when he saw our house, but no.. he kept going 3 houses the other direction before sitting down to rest, then getting up and trying to take the cart back home. It was at least half an hour of walking and about half a block.

The next night, he saw his cart standing there again, climbed up and pushed it across the room all on his own. The first several tries he leaned too far into it and had to basically run to keep up, but with some practice, he was soon able to control his speed a bit.

He still has a ways to go. His little cart tends to veer to the left and Brian pointed out that he seemed not to be taking as good of steps with his right leg. He walks on his toe and kind of turns his foot inward to take a step.

I pointed this out to his physical therapist yesterday. We talked about some of the possible causes. (Effects of the cardiac arrest, sensory issues, or the scar tissue). I remembered kind of out of the blue being told that the deep wound caused by an IV infiltrating the vein in his ankle when he was a month old could cause problems with walking. (This kind of out-of-the-blue-but-makes-sense memory I sometimes think is the Lord pointing us in the right direction.) In the end, the therapist explained that knowing the cause doesn’t change the treatment.

She did some evaluation exercises and found that he has limited range of motion in the foot, leg and hip. Now I have exercises to do with him at least twice a day to help stretch the muscles. We hope that this will improve things, but if not, she may order a brace for him to wear while he’s learning to walk to help correct the position.

Knowing this as he first starts walking is a HUGE blessing! We can make a minor adjustment now that will help him down the road. This is exactly why I have him in so much therapy right now.. So that we catch these little things that are results of his illness while they’re easy to correct.

This was a good reminder to get this week as I added occupational and music therapy this week and am trying to decide if I proceed with a feeding therapist as well. As if I weren’t already busy. The occupational therapy has made a difference, though, after just one visit. See, we think Patrick might be “sensory seeking”. In other words, he craves big physical input. The therapist has taught me some techniques to use to fulfill that craving, leaving his brain and body free to focus on other things.. Like walking or looking at books or learning new ways to play with toys.

It’s a little thing, but I think I’ve seen improvements. He sat next to me on the bench in church on Sunday and just looked at a book for a good 15 minutes. This is remarkably unwiggly for him.

And so, we keep plugging along.. doing all we can to keep Patrick learning and growing now with every moment he feels well enough to do so. I’d really like him to be walking before his transplant. I think that if he’s not walking when he goes in, that it will take him a long time to get well and strong enough to get back to where he is now. So if we have to walk to the school and back every day to accomplish that goal, that’s what we’ll do. He doesn’t mind the walk, especially now that school’s out so he can walk to the playground and slide on the slide.

An evening to remember

It’s been two weeks since Patrick’s Hope Concert and I haven’t blogged about it yet because, well, how do you even try to capture something like that? It was something we’ll never EVER forget!

Friends, families and even strangers came together in amazing ways.

Brian met the sound crew and musicians at 1:00 p.m. I think he had a great time tagging along during sound checks.

Meanwhile, our wonderful friends and family worked to set up the silent auction.

It was after 5 when I got Patrick’s afternoon medical care taken care of and got back to the school where the concert was being held. What I found was amazing! All the auction donations displayed on tables looked so different than they have sitting in my basement. The community was so generous! There was far more there than I’d realized had been given.

The auditorium seemed to have been transformed. When we toured the school months ago it had seemed like a shabby school auditorium. Now, with instruments on the stage and Patrick’s image filling the wall, it looked like a concert hall.

Before long, volunteers and guests started arriving. Soon the lobby was shoulder to shoulder with people we love. Our adoption caseworker was there. So were some of Patrick’s favorite nurses. Co-workers. Friends from church. Family. His doctor. I wish there had been more time so we could have visited with all of you.

We decided to watch the concert from the balcony. (It wasn’t officially open).  We wanted Patrick to have lots of room.. and to watch the concert where it wouldn’t matter if the applause scared him or if he was too sleepy. This was a good thing because his only nap was 11 a.m. and the concert started just half an hour before bedtime.

We owe a huge thank you to Paul Cardall for all he did to put together an amazing concert! He had me crying from the start. The other musicians deserve a thank you, too.. For giving their time, talent, and even equipment to make the night work. So thank you Charley, Sam, Mindy, Steven, Marshall, Kevin.. and to the other musicians who I may not have met but who came and shared their time and talents.

It was so fun to see everyone in Patrick’s “Got Guts?” t-shirts! Just one more thing that made us realize that this night really was for our family!

A big thanks is also owed to Seth Mitchell who worked miracles in getting us a concert quality sound system, donated no less, and a crew of very talented engineers who mixed sound, ran lighting, and otherwise put together the look and feel of the concert. We couldn’t have done it without you!

While I’m expressing thanks..Thank you to my mom who put so much time and effort into pulling this event off! Neither one of us knew what we were doing, but you certainly stepped up and figured it out. Thanks to the rest of our friends and family. Dad, Dick, Phyllis, Jill, Cindy, Michelle, Jay and friends Kirstie and Tifanie who came to meeting after meeting and worked to pull everything together. Thanks to the many friends and family members who came to staff the event. Thanks for keeping me sane!

Thanks to the businesses and individuals who gave to the silent auction. I was touched with each donation that would show up. I wish there was space to put all the stories here.. as almost every item has a story behind it.

And finally.. thanks to all of you who came to share the evening with us! In that big auditorium, we looked few in number.. but there were several hundred of you there. The event definitely made a difference! We more than doubled the donations received thus far. I don’t dare publish a number, because my doorbell still is ringing with people giving more.

Beyond helping with Patrick’s transplant fund, though… You helped us a lot by heart, too! Knowing that there are so many of you who would give up a Saturday evening to come and celebrate Patrick’s life with us was means so much!

This has been a tremendous journey with Patrick. Each day with him is a miracle. I feel as though he’s outlived his expiration date time and again. It was wonderful to be able to take a night and celebrate that miracle with the people who mean the most to us.

Who needs sleep?

There’s a song by the Barenaked Ladies called “Who needs sleep?” Here’s a line from that song: “With all life has to offer, there’s so much to be enjoyed. But the pleasures of insomia are ones I can’t avoid.”

If you’ve been waiting for an update on the concert, I need to apologize. See, Patrick’s been having a hard time sleeping this week. It seems every few nights something goes wrong and wakes him up. First it was diaper rash. (When his prescription strength creams fail him, the result is massive skin breakdown that makes me want to cry just looking at it.) Then, I accidentally turned off his TPN pump and had to monitor glucose and hydration in the middle of the night. And my little happy-go-lucky optimist responds to these discomforts by trying to cheerfully play through them. So instead of being up crying, he’s up jumping and playing until I pinpoint the cause of discomfort and get him settled.

So – my good intentions of writing earlier in the week were thwarted by extreme exhaustion. And then a series of coincidences landed us in the hospital for about 36 hours.. not helping sleep, but helping to remind me not to procrastinate.

Here’s a rundown of the other events of the week.

Wednesday, Patrick had an appointment with his GI, Dr. Jackson.  Patrick’s central line was a bit slow to heal this time around and was a bit weepy even 2 weeks after placement. So I asked the doctor to look just to make sure there was no infection there. Since we were looking for infection, he checked his temperature and it was 99.3. So – Patrick and I hung around for an extra couple hours in the hospital. Dr. Jackson came in and we took off his central line dressing so he could examine it up close and take a culture of any fluid that was there. It looked healthy, just healing, so I went ahead and put the dressing back on. Then we went down to the lab and had blood cultures drawn. Those cultures were all negative.

That night, I got that getting sick tickle in my throat and started to run low-grade fevers.. kind of like when you get a flu shot. Never sick, but not quite right. Since the cultures were clean, I said “Ok, he has a virus, too” and didn’t think more of it.

Friday, Brian came home early from work and since we’d all missed a lot of sleep, we all laid down for a nap. I got Patrick up to put on his afternoon TPN around 4. Only when I tried to draw ethanol out of his line, I just got air. Tried again, got air again. Finally, 3 syringes full of air later, I looked and found a hole in Patrick’s central line.

So away to the E.R. we went. They’ve implemented a new policy that sent us to the Rapid Treatment Unit (RTU) for the repair which, by the way, is WAY preferrable to the E.R. Many fewer bugs and much quicker, more attentive care. The RTU is set up to give basic medical care that takes 24 hours or less.

Well, part of any admission is to check a temperature and Patrick’s read about 100. They rechecked it rectally and it came up 99.8, so we could justify not automatically being admitted. I explained the viral symptoms, but they decided to check cultures anyway. Then they repaired the line and sent us on our way.

The next day, Patrick woke up feeling great! No fevers. So since it was memorial day weekend, we packed up and headed out to Tabiona – a small town in Eastern Utah – for a family reunion. He loved the car ride.. playing in the back seat, singing with the radio, napping, and even trying to figure out how to whistle. Had a great day with cousins, aunts and uncles.

That evening, we got home to find two messages on our answering machine. The blood cultures they’d drawn were showing a staph infection.

Now, in case you haven’t noticed this, I’ve spent a lot of time learning from infectious disease over the past year. And one thing they’ve taught me is that 1 in every 20 positive cultures is a “contaminant”.. that is, something that grew in the culture that didn’t come from the blood sample taken. And staph, although it lives on all of our skin and can get into central lines, usually isn’t one you pick up at home. It’s most often contracted in the ICU. Every positive “staph” culture Patrick has ever had has been a contaminant.

So – I called the doctor and made my case that Patrick wasn’t sick and that this was likely a contaminant. We decided to recheck the cultures on Sunday.

Well, Monday morning rolled around. For once, we were planning to be home for Brian’s day off and had a big to-do list.. And at 8 a.m. the phone rang. Sunday’s culture was positive for staph, too. Patrick’s still healthy, but we’d better go in.

So, just to be safe, that’s what we did. We got there at 9:30. Because it was a holiday, things took longer than usual.. but by early afternoon they’d drawn a new set of blood cultures and by 4:00 p.m. had started some antibiotics. Meanwhile, Patrick’s nurses got to run to try to take care of all of his basic daily needs.. a slow process when doctors have to write for them and pharmacy has to fill them before it can happen.

A quick soapbox moment. One of the most frustrating things about going into the hospital is how difficult it is to maintain the same quality of care and quality of life as at home. There are so many more steps, so many more people, and so many more lawsuit-prevention policies that it is exponentially more difficult to accomplish the same things that I do at home in the midst of daily life. In a short 36 hour stay, I think the nurses had to call the pharmacy at least 10 times about administration questions, late medications, and my ever-hated argument about whether or not they’ll let Patrick have his home TPN. (I usually lose this battle and they hang something with sugar, water and electrolytes but none of the good vitamins, minerals, and fats that he’s used to.) They started him out on a super high dose of antibiotics. (I won’t let that happen again. I’ve seen it done 3 times now with the same result and I’ll speak up next time.) And they accidentally ran his TPN at a 5% of it’s prescribed rate for the night. ( Thankfully, this only resulted in a grumpy, sleepless night as Patrick got hungrier and thirstier. They caught it in the morning and there was no other harm done.) I can’t really fault the nurses here. They work their tails off trying to get everything right within Patrick’s first 24 hours. The fact of the matter is that he’s a complex kid who has a lot of special care. For me it’s routine.. but in the hospital, it’s the exception. In fact, there are some things that require special permission every time because it doesn’t match hospital policy. Still, it’s frustrating to me to have to work so much harder to maintain the status quo. I much prefer to just do it myself at home. Ok. Getting off my soapbox now.

Yesterday morning, Dr. Jackson came on service. I ran into him at the nurse’s desk looking up info to find out why Patrick was in the hospital. We talked about the 4 sets of blood cultures that had been drawn. By then, the cultures drawn in the hospital Monday were still negative for infection. Looking back, it was looking more and more likely that we’d had two contaminants in a row. So Dr. Jackson said the words that we love him for saying so often: “I think you can do this at home. Would you like to go home?”

He helped sort out a few more questions and then set the wheels in motion for us to go home. Because they’d started Patrick on an extremely high dose of antibiotic, we had to stay till 4 to have them check his blood one more time to make sure that he’d been able to get it back out of his system. Brian got off work and up to the hospital by 5:30 p.m. and we made it home shortly after that.

Patrick will be on antibiotics for the next 2 days at least and then they’ll check cultures again to make sure that he doesn’t have a real infection. And then hopefully things can go back to our at-home normal again for a while.

Whatever happens, we’re resolved to made better use of this time at home. Procrastination isn’t really an option when you can’t tell where you’ll be hour to hour. I would hate to get the transplant call and leave my house in the condition it’s in right now.

And – I’ll be getting that blog entry about the concert up hopefully before the end of the day tomorrow.

Oh – the best news of all? With us healthy and at home, Patrick slept a blissful 11 hours last night! Which meant mom and dad got some sleep for once, too.