Brain Injury – Page 3 – Patrick Hoopes

Transplant Day 46 and Physical Therapy

Today was a busy day. I knew we’d need to be up early to start out with labs, but last night was another night where Patrick didn’t make it to sleep till midnight. So when he snuggled up next to me and fell back asleep this morning, I didn’t really have the heart to wake him.

At 8, as my alarm was going off after the 3^rd snooze, I decided we were going to have to bite the bullet and get up. I could tell that sometime during the night Patrick’s ostomy bag had come loose. Thank goodness I’ve got a good drain system set up so it didn’t make a mess that woke us earlier. But it did mean that we had to start off with a bag change right away.

Patrick wasn’t so sure of me when I put him in the tub without waterproofing his bag.. But it actually worked very well to make it come off quite easily and changing the bag went very smoothly. But we were really pressed for time so when the phone rang to tell me they were showing his nurse up, he was still quite naked and wrapped in bath towels.

We hurried to get a diaper on and wrapped him up in a blanket and the nurse was able to draw his labs. Meanwhile, my phone rang and it was the pharmacy. It’s been one week since discharge. Time for a new shipment of supplies.

When we got through all of that, it was already 9 a.m. I begged Patrick to stay on the bed and watch Blues Clues and let me run downstairs for his medicines alone so it could be faster. He agreed and we were able to get all of his medicines given on time. But in the meantime, he was a lot happier in the room watching TV than he usually is trying to entertain himself while I do up meds in the morning. In fact, he happily stayed and played and watched TV for another hour and a half.

That gave me time to clean up the room a bit and to set up the printer that my mom and dad bought me for my birthday. (I knew I’d want to do Mommy School here so that was one of my first wishes.)

Finally, I was hungry and he needed formula made so it would have time to chill before starting the new batch running and we had to give in and leave the room. Besides, Patrick needed me to buy him new socks. So we went downstairs and got ready and went to Target.

Let me tell you about why Patrick needed new socks as it brings you to the next part of our day. If you are new to our story, you may not know that Patrick has an anoxic brain injury and cerebral palsy. When he was 8 months old, his heart stopped because of an infection and some medication they were using to treat it. It took over 15 minutes of CPR to revive him. The result is that the ends of all of the blood vessels in his brain were deprived of some oxygen. That accounts for a lot of his behaviors and most of his developmental delays and learning disabilities.

When you hear the phrase “cerebral palsy” you probably imagine someone with a very severe case whose body is contorted with muscle spasms: someone who can’t eat, can’t talk, can’t walk, etc. That is what you imagine because that is the presentation that you can’t ignore so you ask about it. But what cerebral palsy really means is that at birth or shortly thereafter, the brain was starved for oxygen, leaving the patient with a “palsy” or lack of control of the muscles of the arms or legs or more. The signal from the brain to these limbs gets confused or altered somewhere along the way causing unexpected movements, often causing the muscles to spasm.

Well, over the past week, I have seen Patrick’s hip and foot of his right foot turning inward. He is becoming more clumsy and having a harder time controlling those muscles. I started making him wear his walking brace for half to all of the day. (Enter the need for new, longer socks that would prevent rubbing from the brace against his leg.) We’ve been doing stretching, too, and those muscles are much tighter than they have been in years.

Today after shopping and a short nap, I took Patrick for a physical therapy evaluation in the hospital’s outpatient clinic. I wanted to evaluate his recovery and I was especially worried about this problem with his gait.

The news was good. First of all, Patrick is a “rockstar” from the physical therapy standpoint. His incision is better healed, his movement is better, his pain level is less, and his energy is more than most patients at this point. He is really doing remarkably well.

The therapist said that she thinks that the spasticity in his leg is likely a combination of problems: the trauma of transplant, the effect of new medications, the exhaustion of recovery. In other words, she said that it’s probably something that he’s feeling all over, we just are seeing it more in his leg because that is where he is weakest. She said that for every 1 day in the hospital, we should expect 2 days for his body to recover. Considering that he spent 39 days in the hospital, it will be a few months before he is back to full strength.

The prescription is simple. Keep doing all of the exercises we were working on at home for leg strengthening like climbing stairs, squatting and tiptoes, bike riding, jumping. But, for the next little while, have him wear his brace so that while his nerves and muscles are relearning and recovering, we are training his body to move the right way. Patrick is not amused by this prescription. He keeps asking me to let him take his boot off because he feels like it’s in his way.

The therapist said that she is seeing such progress in the area of gross motor skills that, given our insurance policy’s very limited therapy visits, that she feels like physical therapy would not be her focus right now. She recommended instead that we take advantage of the opportunity to work with an occupational therapist who specializes in feeding in kids post-transplant while we are here.

She also said to allow him lots of rest. And I think that I realized today that doing so may require a little more keeping him in our room. When we hit our room, all of the sensory overload caused by the rest of the house melts away. He is happy watching TV and doing crafts. Tonight it finally clicked for him that the tote in the corner is a toybox and that he is allowed to go get those toys out and play with them.

I don’t know for sure. We’ll need to find a balance so he gets social time, too. We both need it. But we both were much happier with some quiet, one-on-one free play time in the room.

We had another special treat tonight. One of the men from our church who helps bring the sacrament has talked for a while about inviting us over for dinner. Well, tonight, we got the chance. That was really such a treat! Patrick had a great time playing with their two little ones (ages 3 and almost 5). I spend some time with some other adults about my age whom I have a lot in common with. And just take a break from all of this medical stuff for a while. But also, without a ton of explanation. He has been visiting for a while now. He was also the anesthesiologist on Patrick’s case the night of transplant. So they know the story and some of the things they should expect. It was good to just be normal for a little while.

We were both sad to see the evening come to a close. But it was bedtime and we needed to unwind to go to sleep here, too. Setting up my printer meant I also set up a place my laptop can sit next to the TV, so we were able to turn on one of the new DVD’s that Brian’s parents sent him. We watched Curious George’s Christmas while I cleaned up the room, prepared feeds, drew up medications, and got Patrick into his pajamas.

He made it to sleep by 10:30 tonight which isn’t the greatest, but is better than midnight. He also is starting to prefer to go to sleep in his bed on his own. He won’t admit that. He would love for me to lay with him. But he has started to do his usual putting himself to sleep routine if I’ll just lay with him for a bit, then tell him it’s time for met o kiss him goodnight. I kiss him and go lay in my bed until he falls asleep. Then I get up and try to get done whatever was waiting for him to rest.

Tonight while I waited, I decided to poke around Pinterest for kindergarten homeschooling ideas as Patrick’s teacher was still sick today and an hour a week of school is certainly not getting him the education he needs or that his little mind is craving. I am thrilled to say that I stumbled across a curriculum that looks like it will pick up exactly where he left off at school and that really fits his learning style. It even has little printable readers. (I’m trying to decide if I print them or see if it’s possible to throw them into an e-reader format to save on printing). I’m excited to grab a little bit of playroom time tomorrow morning so I can get it downloaded and start working on it.

One last bit of news, then I have to post this and get to bed. My eyes are drooping. Patrick’s transplant coordinator called this afternoon. The great news is that his prograf level is finally in range. Just barely, but it’s there. That’s the first time in a week. That means no medication adjustment. It also means that we get to switch to twice weekly labs. And THAT means that we can sleep in in the morning if we’re tired. At least till meds are due at 9.

However.. you probably wont’ get to read this until then because I am just plain too sleepy to go hunt down an internet connection until morning.

Patrick’s Getting a Transplant – Day 1 (and a half)

Last night, as Brian and I were turning off the lights to go to sleep, my cell phone rang in my hand. I looked at the caller ID and my heart skipped a beat. It was the transplant team. It was 10:30 p.m. It took me 2 rings to get the courage to answer.

Patrick’s transplant coordinator asked how his health had been, and then she told me that she was calling because they had received an offer for donor organs for Patrick.

I thought I’d be excited when this call came. I was not. I wanted to shout “NO” and hang up the phone. Patrick has been having a very good year. His health has been good. He is loving kindergarten and for the first time has had friends his age. I’d just helped to a Halloween party in his class. It was a hit and he’d had a great time. We’ve gotten in to one of the best mental health programs in the state and were making good progress with his attention and behavior. We’d been trying a medication for his ADHD and it was a hard adjustment, but it seemed to be helping. He’s been learning to read. And I just planned his birthday cake and finished wrapping his presents.

Did I want to change any of that!? NO!

But at the same time, we know a very hard truth. Patrick has been defying odds as he lives with a terminal illness. There is a reason they let us do a wish trip. Patrick is running out of access. His intestines have been redilating and sooner or later would need surgery again. Patrick has been living on borrowed time.

We have said for 5 years that transplant would come at the right time for Patrick. Why that time happened to be during one of the happiest seasons of his life, I don’t know. BUT it did. And we couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Who knows when it would come again.

Getting ready to go was a chaotic mess. We had bags packed for us, but needed to pack Patrick’s things. We needed to call insurance and the doctors and somehow get to Primary Children’s, then to Life Flight and then to the Nebraska Medical Center. We needed to gather family to say goodbye and get blessings. And we were supposed to do it in 6 hours.

We didn’t do it in 6 hours. I was too confused. The hospital and Life Flight couldn’t agree.. And it took extra time. And it was ok.

Patrick's doctor- with us since we got to Utah, almost as much family as physician — Patrick’s doctor- with us since we got to Utah, almost as much family as physician

We got to the hospital a little after midnight. There, we were met by Patrick’s amazing GI who had come in and stayed up just for us. He wrote orders and then saw us off.

We got to the airport and were met by two amazing nurses and a pilot. Patrick had to ride lying on a gurney, but they managed to make it fun enough that, even though we’d woken him 2 hours after he went to bed (on a day he hadn’t napped), he laughed and played and was ok.

We arrive at the hospital around 6 a.m. and were shown into the PICU. There was some bustle of admission, but things were pretty quiet. Before long, Patrick had snuggled up and fallen asleep. And so did I.

Eventually, they came for some labs. We let him open his birthday present. Then, Child Life came by and asked if he needed a Halloween costume. As I’d left his awesome purple minion costume at home, we borrowed a Buzz Lightyear. It barely fit, but he was happy. And it came just on time, as the Nurse Practioner told us just then to let him up to move around. We made it out just on time to go trick or treating. Each department of the hospital put together mostly non-food goodies. Patrick happily went to each of them saying “Happy Halloween” and being showered with gifts. He came away with quite the haul. We even made the news.

http://launch.newsinc.com/share.html?trackingGroup=69017&siteSection=ndn&videoId=28082677

Trick or treating in a borrowed costume (with accessories)

About 2/3 around the room of trick or treats, we got a call that they wanted Patrick back in the room for a procedure. We made a hurried run back to the room where they explained that they wanted him to go to interventional radiology to try to place another line. That sounded like a request to do the impossible. It turns out it was hard, but possible. Patrick currently has 6 lumens.

Going down early for this meant that Patrick would need to be intubated and sedated earlier than we expected. It wasn’t worth the risk to wake him up again. So I used the little time that we had before sending him down to try to explain to him what would happen. I could tell he didn’t get it. I could tell he was scared.

But it was time to go. So we did all we could to tell him we loved him and help him feel brave, and then we walked him to the procedure room and kissed him goodbye.

He spent the afternoon intubated and asleep. He woke a little once and made a furious fight to take the breathing tube out of his throat. It took several people to keep him safe until they were able to get some more meds to settle him down. Hard, hard moment.

But the rest of the day was peaceful. With him asleep, they were able to get the other catheters and lines in that they will need to be able to monitor and take care of him during and after the surgery.

Finally, around 6 p.m. they came to take him to the O.R. We sat a bit on pins and needles till them, because until the organs arrived here and were inspected, there is always the chance of the transplant not going through.

It’s 9 p.m. now. The last update said that they were finishing putting in the liver and were just about to start putting in the other organs.

It has been a very emotional day. We have shed tears of fear and of hope and of grief and of joy. We have celebrated a birthday and Halloween and then said goodbye to our son for an indefinite amount of time. We have doubted ourselves, and we’ve been given flashes of reminders of faith. We have been touched again and again by the encouraging words of our family and friends and even of strangers.

Once again, we find our lives entirely overturned. I honestly don’t know how we are going to do this. But I am trusting it is going to be ok.

I’d like your help with something, if you don’t mind. Patrick’s birthday celebration got cut short when they took him early to place that line. I’d love for him to wake up to a room full of birthday wishes. Would you consider mailing a birthday card or sending an e-card? Mail to:

Patrick Hoopes
Patient Mail
Room # 5349
P.O. Box 6159
Omaha, NE 68106-0159

or you can send an e-card that will be printed and delivered to him http://www.nebraskamed.com/patients/well-wishers

Summer vacation

Tomorrow marks 3 weeks since Patrick’s last day of school. For most people, summer vacation is in full swing. For us, we’re finally starting to get our bearings. It’s been an unusual start to summer.

Things seemed smooth enough. I spent that first weekend after school ended gathering myself to start a tradition Patrick and I are calling “Mommy School.” Between therapies, Patrick has a LOT of “homework”. He’s supposed to spend 10 minutes every day doing eye exercises. He’s supposed to be practicing writing and cutting and and gluing and using a keyboard. We’re supposed to be strengthening his core, working on activities that use both sides of his body evenly, and encouraging him to cross midline. He’s supposed to be practicing telling me stories in various verb tenses, using articles, and correcting his use of pronouns. Plus working on vocabulary building, sorting skills, categorization skills, social skills, attention skills and on and on. All of this to help keep him progressing on his current trajectory which, discouraging as I may find it, is approximately two years behind most of his peers.

Except, it seems, when it comes to the alphabet. Patrick has the alphabet down pat and tested in the top 25% of his preschool class.

Our first day of Mommy School. Learning the shapes of letters by building them from playdough.

A practical life mommy school lesson on how to sweep.

And so, this summer we introduced “Mommy School.” We’re doing an abbreviated letter of the day curriculum, since letters are what Patrick loves. Every week is assigned two letters and every day a word that starts with that letter. Then I go out and scrounge up books, worksheets, crafts, activities and field trips on that theme.

Teddy Bears — B is for Bears, and a teddy bear picnic.

The first day of Mommy School went GREAT! Until, that is, Patrick developed a fever. The next day of summer break was spent cuddling a sick, feverish kid in a chair. He had a cold and we were grateful to be able to stay home sick like other children. By Thursday, Patrick had mustered the energy to play on his own again. But, by then, I was sick.

Patrick sees 3 therapists on a regular basis in the summer. It's hard work, but fun too. Patrick's reward for a good hour of work in physical therapy is the chance to climb the rock wall. — Patrick sees 3 therapists on a regular basis in the summer. It’s hard work, but fun too. Patrick’s reward for a good hour of work in physical therapy is the chance to climb the rock wall.

In occupational therapy, Patrick gets to take sensory breaks in the gym. Diving in the ball pool is a favorite exercise.

Our second week of summer break, Patrick and I were finally starting to be healthy again. But Brian wasn’t. And it didn’t matter if we were healthy or not because on Saturday of that week, my little sister was getting married in my backyard. So, I declared “C is for Camping” and we pitched a tent in the living room. Amazingly, this both occupied Patrick and kept the room clean while he binged on movies and we scrambled to finish last minute details on the house and yard.

I meant to pitch a tent outdoors, but it rained all that day, so we brought it inside. It worked so well we kept it a second day, too.

We also sneaked in a couple of outings.. a family night at Red Butte Garden and a field trip with friends to the Natural History Museum. (I picked up a free month-long museum pass at the local library just so we wouldn’t have excuses to just stay home and work.) Besides, in order to get Patrick to let us work, we let him watch his birthday movies on endless loop, which left us all craving some family adventures.

Patrick loved the children's garden best, especially hopping on stepping stones across the fish pond. — Patrick loved the children’s garden best, especially hopping on stepping stones across the fish pond.

The best part of our trip to the Natural History Museum was not the dinosaur bones. It was the chance to be there with other friends who know exactly what living with Short Gut is like.

The wedding went smoother than expected, though playing hostess and trying to keep Patrick from completely melting down about how his house was filled with children who were not sharing his toys with him kept me busy enough that I didn’t manage to take a single picture.

I was too busy to take pictures, but there were lots of cameras there. I snagged this one off my mom's Facebook page. — I was too busy to take pictures, but there were lots of cameras there. I snagged this one off my mom’s Facebook page.

My sister was a beautiful bride and the happy couple truly looked happy and in love. Patrick eventually settled down with Grandma who let him fetch endless cups of water from the refreshment table and pour them all over himself and her and all went well enough.

Except that it turns out that maybe the bug that had Brian sick isn’t the one that had Patrick sick as I ran a fever all night.

So, Sunday we took a sick day and we stayed and home and did absolutely nothing except that Brian cooked us a delicious roast. The day was delightful and refreshing. Perfect after two frantic weeks.

Yesterday, I put together a week’s worth of Mommy School worksheets, made a chore chart, got Patrick’s TPN labs drawn and kind of regrouped. Then, in the late afternoon, I changed Patrick’s central line dressing and discovered that, much to my dismay, what had once been a tiny little hole in the clotted side of the line had grown big enough that I was worried it would pull off. But it was after hours and I wanted the head of the IV team to be involved in choices about the repair.

So today, we spent our kind of restart to summer day exactly as summer days seem to go for us.

Over breakfast, I made a bunch of phone calls to people at the hospital trying to find the best way to get the line repaired. Eventually, I sat down and had a little cry because I wasn’t getting in touch with the people I wanted and I knew we’d have to go to the E.R.

Then, Howie gave me a pep talk and a hug and a kiss. Then he talked to Patrick and helped him to gather the courage to get his line repaired. (He was terrified that it was going to hurt when they cut the broken part off of his line.) We headed up to the E.R. where our timing really was perfect. We didn’t wait at all for them to start working. Patrick’s line is a different brand than our hospital stocks because it was placed in Nebraska, so that complicated things and the repair took about an hour and looks a bit sloppy. But it will do for a clotted line.

And then, when all was done, we headed off to the Children’s Museum for a couple of hours. We managed to get there at a nice slow time on a nice slow day. Patrick actually got to enjoy exploring the museum and would have happily stayed there all day. His favorite spots were the Bob the Builder exhibit, the gas station, and the pretend E.R.

I didn't know they'd built on a pretend E.R. with the life flight display. Patrick found a little girl willing to play the patient and had a great time — I didn’t know they’d built on a pretend E.R. with the life flight display. Patrick found a little girl willing to play the patient and had a great time

Eventually, we had to go because I was parked in a 2 hour parking space and, honestly, we both needed a rest. So we stopped in at daddy’s office to pick up the leftovers from a lunch he’d cooked for them today. And then we came home and convinced Patrick to nap by 4.

Which brings us to right now. Brian just walked in the door to a quiet, clean house and me blogging and said, “Now that’s a sight I don’t see very often.” Here’s to maybe a little bit more of this? Perhaps a few prayers for this line to hold out through the summer and grant us a little bit of peace ..and maybe even health?

The end of another school year

Patrick woke up crying this morning at 6. Not just a little “I’m sleepy” cry. Out and out sobbing. When I asked him what was wrong, he replied “Push!!” “Push what?” I asked. “Push TAMMY!” He answered.

And I understood exactly what he meant.

“Push Tammy” is code for “I fought with my classmates at school again.” This time it was a dream. But it hits on a really real fear and a very big problem that I’ve been so baffled and busy with that it’s kept me away from this blog for quite some time.

This has been a hard school year for Patrick. My sweet, friendly, optimistic little boy has felt stressed and discouraged and just plain rejected. It was bound to happen one day that his medical issues and his developmental delays and his just-plain-awkwardness would catch up to him and cuteness wouldn’t carry him anymore. At least it started in his last year of preschool with a teacher who knows him and is OH SO patient and willing to adapt and help.

Patrick’s frustrations have manifested themselves in a lot of hitting, pushing, and kicking. Usually it’s subtle and small. Sometimes it’s angry. Some would say we’re lucky that he’s perfecting the art of the tantrum this late in life. The problem is that at age 5, it’s a whole lot more frowned upon. And it certainly is costing him friendships.

So, if you’re wondering what I’ve been doing since I wrote about the IEP meeting last fall.. I’ve been volunteering in Patrick’s classroom, advocating for a behavior plan and better support for him at school, trying to find a good psychologist and then trying to implement what she’s trying to teach me to do.

I’ve also been being humbled a lot as I realize how far I need to go still in developing patience, self-control, long-suffering, flexibility.. and on and on…

Oh, and watching a lot of Mister Rogers and Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. Because they teach lessons both Patrick and I need to learn.

Now – why am I telling you this? Well, because I am really hoping that I can spend the summer blogging about how Patrick and I are having wonderfully fun adventures together as we explore the alphabet. Patrick’s got just a few days left in preschool.

So if I tell you now about this struggle, maybe I’ll stop worrying about how to tell you about this struggle and can get on with writing about our lives, imperfections and all.

The rest of today didn’t exactly pan out much better. Patrick’s nap got delayed because of our kitchen remodel (subject for another post soon).. and then I had to wake him early for speech therapy. And he was so tired that he fell asleep in the car for the first time in a year. And the he wouldn’t talk to his speech therapist and threw the flash cards she was using on the floor again. And when that was done, we took him to the zoo to see the new lions. And I’m not sure if he had a good time or not, because he was so sleepy he only cared about pushing the stroller (a tendency his psychologist calls a perseveration, which means something he gets stuck on obsessively). And when we would take it away, it just plain made him mad. And he tried tantrums, and we tried not to give in to tantrums… But when I reminded him he needed to calm down, he took a breath and counted to 4, then asked again in a nice voice. That is actually really good progress for him, and for me.

Another IEP meeting behind us.

I feel like a huge weight has been taken off of my chest. Although we have always been very blessed with a caring and cooperative IEP time, hammering out an IEP that meets Patrick’s many needs is no small feat. And this year, with everyone on the IEP team, except the classroom teacher, being brand new to us, I was especially worried.

So I got dressed in my best “I’m competent” clothes, a change from my usual “I’m a special needs mom and you’re lucky I am dressed” wardrobe. I even put on makeup and did my hair. I packed a bag of toys for Patrick and brought along a stack of supporting documents for me. I stopped at the store and picked up some new puzzles for Patrick, even. Then went to Dunkin’ Donuts for goodies since the meeting was at lunch time and I wondered how at least the classroom teacher was going to manage to eat.

Then, as I was sitting waiting for Brian to meet me, I noticed that I’d mixed up my brand new jeans with an old pair of jeans with a hole in the crotch that I’d worn gardening last week. And I crossed my legs and shook it off because I couldn’t let that throw me today.

It seemed like this year’s IEP was all the more important than years past. Before, we were just making goals to help move forward his academic and developmental progress. This time we were dealing with new and worsening behavior problems as Patrick has become aware of his limitations. He wants with all his heart to fit in and make friends, and he just doesn’t have the skills and savvy to do it right. And so he’s taken to hitting, kicking, and pulling hair when he feels frustrated instead.

I had a feeling stress was building. But, I’ll be honest, I’ve been surprised and quite devastated that things got this hard this fast.

As the school year ended last year, I knew that impulsivity was getting to be more of a problem the more Patrick could do things for himself, but still couldn’t be independent. I asked his neurologist for help and he referred me to an amazing program designed to help children with developmental delays and behavioral issues.

But when I started down that path, insurance informed me that the program was through a non-contracted provider. They are a non-profit and we could maybe have made things work, but it was going to cost us more out of pocket than I expected. And, to make matters worse, their wait list was months long… all summer long in fact… just to get an evaluation.

My sweet insurance case manager felt so bad delivering this news that within a day, she’d called around and found a neuropsychologist who they contracted with who could squeeze Patrick in for some developmental testing. I had to fill out a mountain of paperwork. The questionnaire was over 50 pages long. Plus provide a medical/developmental history. (Another 50 pages at least). Then, Brian and I went in for an interview where we talked about all of the things that concerned us about Patrick’s development and behavior. Then it was Patrick’s turn. 4 hours of alternating standardized testing and play therapy and observation. In the end, we got a 25 page write up describing our child. His strengths. His weaknesses. His learning style.

In the end, Patrick was diagnosed as having many physical and cognitive delays stemming from his brain injury. (No surprise there.) And with ADHD. (Also no surprise, though really nice to give it a name we can work with.) The evaluation also included testing for autism and the doctor and Patrick’s therapists and I had a long drawn out series of conversations in which we discussed the way that Patrick’s brain injury sometimes makes him act like he is autistic (sensory processing disorder, social difficulty, quirky little obsessions).. but in the end decided that that diagnosis would only cloud and confuse things for him as it doesn’t exactly fit.

Armed with new diagnoses and 25 pages about how to help Patrick learn (with very specific examples of areas to teach him in), we supposedly had all the makings of a rockstar IEP.

Hence my anxiety over the past month in trying to get things just right. I’ve been e-mailing and talking to Patrick’s new special education teacher (this is an extra teacher who works with him in a regular classroom). I have felt like the super duper stubborn bad guy with my list of unreasonable demands. I really wondered if they were starting to hate me.

But today’s meeting was yet another IEP success. I feel like Patrick’s got a group of very astute and caring team of people working with him. And, in the end, they found a way to give Patrick just about everything we were asking for for him. In fact, a little bit more, even. Like a motor aid to help him in PE. And picture schedule cards for each type of activity in the class. And a more supportive chair for work table time. The occupational therapist offered to work with him on a sensory diet (meaning physical activities to meet his sensory needs throughout the day), which is virtually unheard of in IEP’s in Utah. And the speech therapist offered to build Patrick social stories with him as the main character on her iPad. And, as icing on the cake, they have a written behavioral plan in place for Patrick and are calling in a psychologist to consult and help Patrick learn to control his temper in class.

Of course, the trick now is finding practical ways to make it all work together.. But it is such a relief to feel like we’ve got our feet pointed in the right direction again.

And a big relief to be done with a crazy month of trying to see all the doctors and all the therapists and gather recommendations and write firm but kind “parent advocate” style e-mails that say what they need to, but then have to be trimmed down because, face it, I’m verbose. It will be a relief to be done rehearsing arguments about the IEP in my head all the time.

At least till next fall. Or maybe spring. Or maybe earlier, if things aren’t going quite as they should.

The Orange Rhino Challenge and a whole lot of stars

Patrick loves school! He is so happy to be back. He is making new friends at a record pace, as well as happily meeting and playing with his old friends before and after school.

But, he’s also been really struggling since school started. At first, the reports were a few here and there coming from the classroom. Then one day, the special education came out to meet me and talk about the problem. Patrick has been growing increasingly aggressive. He’s not picking fights per say, but when he gets mad or feels ignored, he has been using his hands and feet to express his anger. And it’s been getting worse, spilling over into therapy and playdates and church and home.

I loved the conversation with the special ed teacher. (Note, this isn’t the regular classroom teacher. This is a teacher who visits the class a few times a week and, like everyone else, is new this year.) She said she’d heard that Patrick hadn’t had these problems last year in school and asked me if he’d been under any stress at home. I explained that during the first week of school, Patrick had had major, life-threatening medical issues and had needed to travel out of state for surgery. She said, “Well, I know about that. But other than that….” Yeah. She didn’t get it.

Then she asked me what helps at home. I tried to explain sensory processing disorder and how he needs a physical outlet for his energy or he can’t sit still, gets in trouble, gets embarrassed, gets mad, and hits. She told me he gets a regular sensory time once a day. Yeah. She didn’t get that either.

I left the conversation with two clear impressions. 1) Patrick was struggling at school and 2) I was going to need to come up with some answers to help him and/or a better way to communicate with the plan-makers at school because we weren’t going to make much progress otherwise.

I put a lot of thinking and reading and talking and praying into the problem over the next couple of weeks. And I watched as things got worse and worse. It was pretty clear to me that Patrick has been responding to the stress of having his life turned completely upside down… and then having to start school. Not only that, but school twice as many days a week as usual, and in a class that is much younger and more chaotic than last year. He’s feeling overwhelmed and he doesn’t have the words to express his feelings or stand up for himself. So, he’s doing the only thing he can figure out to do. He’s fighting back physically.

And then I remembered something I encountered a while back. An amazing woman who made a goal not to yell at her kids for a whole year, 365 days.. She blogged about the experience and is still blogging and running a Facebook support group to help other parent learn to discipline without yelling, too.

She calls the project The Orange Rhino challenge.

And I realized that I can’t expect Patrick to learn to deal with and express his anger and frustration and overall exhaustion with his situation in healthy ways if I haven’t learned to control my own temper.

But I just couldn’t seem to get there.

And then, a few days ago, I took Patrick to a checkup with his neurologist. We discussed the results of his recent neuropsychological evaluation (a topic that I swear one day I’ll tell you more about, but in a nutshell Patrick was diagnosed with several learning challenges, as well as ADHD) and how to help him learn to work through his attention issues at school, and he offered to have me talk to the department social worker about resources.

That conversation was a lot about how to create a behavioral plan in Patrick’s upcoming IEP. But one thing that stood out was that he suggested using a reward system to encourage the behavior we wanted instead of just punishing “naughty” behavior.

And I just couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Finally, it came to me. And yesterday, Patrick and I had a talk and made a deal. We both need to learn to be gentle when we feel angry. So, any time one of us is going through a hard time and feels mad and chooses to use soft hands and soft words instead, we get a sticker.

I stuck a sheet of foil star stickers in my pocket and away we went.

It was a rough start, with a tantrum first thing in the morning when he failed to earn a sticker by hitting when he didn’t want to take a bath. I thought maybe I was in over my head. But soon, we had our groove.

I took him to school with 3 stars on his head, gave a sheet of stickers to his teachers, and hoped for the best. I picked him up after school to find a dozen more stickers on his head. He was so proud of himself! His teachers reported an improvement, too.

So why am I telling you all this? Well, part of the plan of success with the Orange Rhino challenge is to tell people what you’re doing so that, if you’re feeling weak, you can call out for help. I’m two days in… we’ve had a few almost tantrums from both of us, but we’ve made it so far. It’s easier because we’re doing it together.

My goal isn’t necessarily a year of no yelling. But it is to earn as many sparkly star stickers as I possibly can each and every day.

To know more about the Orange Rhino Challenge, here’s a website: http://theorangerhino.com/

We have bacteria species, and a plan to try to stay at home

From our hospital stay 2 weeks ago: Playing with another family from our support group. Daddies are awesome!

We’ve been home for a couple of days now. By Sunday evening, Patrick was feeling 100 times better. He started talking and playing again. We went to the playroom and raced cars down their giant car ramps. His cousins came to visit and while we waited for them, he was playing around in the lobby by walking every silly way he could think of, including with his eyes covered.

But the night shift rolled around and, yet again, they didn’t send up his melatonin on time. And the pumps didn’t like running TPN, lipids, and antibiotics all at once. And he didn’t get to sleep till 11. And then he woke up vomiting (because his g-tube had to be clamped because the medications had been late).. not once, but twice. Only the melatonin had come up by then and so he couldn’t wake up all the way and it was well, just sad..

From two weeks ago: Pushing Daddy in a wheelchair as a form of occupational therapy. Heavy work=happier child

And by morning, I was fed up. It’s time to go home when hospital routine is making him feel sicker instead of better. So I asked them if we could finish up care at home. And they agreed. (With some cautions, but agreed.)

And so we came home and the antibiotic thankfully was due just once a day.. and so we all got to visit with Brian’s family who has been in town visiting, and then we got to go to bed and sleep at night. First time in 3 weeks that I didn’t have to be up at midnight for antibiotics.

And we’ve all been feeling much better.

One of the joys of our July hospital stay was the discovery that because we have a Physical Therapy goal to learn to ride a tricycle, if the doctors order physical therapy for Patrick, he's allowed to borrow a bike. He learned to ride a tricycle during that hospital stay. — One of the joys of our July hospital stay was the discovery that because we have a Physical Therapy goal to learn to ride a tricycle, if the doctors order physical therapy for Patrick, he’s allowed to borrow a bike. He learned to ride a tricycle during that hospital stay.

Well, except for Patrick this morning. Again today, naughty behavior has been emerging. And the nausea, which never completely went away, seems to be getting worse. And I was really beginning to worry.

And then the phone rang. It was Patrick’s pharmacist. AT LAST they have species on the bacteria. Our two best-friend bacterias… Klebsiella Oxytoca and Citrobacter. The drug-resistant bacteria that have set up shop in Patrick’s gut. Only this time, the Klebsiella is no longer susceptible to Rocefen, the antibiotic that I threw a fit to get them to put Patrick on. It’s mutated some and that drug won’t work anymore.

One of the best ways to pass time when you don't feel well in the hospital is doing crafts. This past week, Patrick discovered glitter glue and puff paint. Our lives will never be the same. — One of the best ways to pass time when you don’t feel well in the hospital is doing crafts. This past week, Patrick discovered glitter glue and puff paint. Our lives will never be the same.

So tonight, they’ll be sending me a new antibiotic called ertapenem. And they’ll be sending a nurse to keep and eye on Patrick during his first dose.

And hopefully by tomorrow, he’ll be feeling better.

Primary Children's Hospital has it's own LDS branch (congregation of the Mormon church) and every Sunday, volunteers will bring primary lessons and longs to any kid who wants them. Here's Patrick enjoying singing time. — Primary Children’s Hospital has it’s own LDS branch (congregation of the Mormon church) and every Sunday, volunteers will bring primary lessons and longs to any kid who wants them. Here’s Patrick enjoying singing time.

But I’m still happy that we’re home. Because at least he’s sleeping through the night. And I can keep a better routine so he doesn’t feel as sick. The good news is that this new medicine can still be given just twice a day and we can all still get some sleep. I certainly trust that things will work more smoothly with our GI writing orders instead of an intern, and our home care pharmacy and home nurse helping provide his care. No missed or forgotten doses of medications. And there is still a tiny chance that I can catch up on dishes and laundry. And feed us something other than cafeteria food. I think we are all happier at home. Even if Patrick does miss visits from Child Life with fun new toys to play with.

One of Patrick’s favorite people in the whole world: Jo from child life. She is the sunshine of every hospital stay.

Not again!

Here’s the ultimate test of the value of the switch to wordpress. I am trying a quick blog to update everyone everywhere about what’s going on.

20130718_060340 — Taken a couple of weeks ago, during our last admission. He’s watching the construction going on outside the window.

So, quick version.. About 3 weeks ago Patrick had a really bad few days. His stomach was upset. He had a hard time concentrating. He was in a BAD mood and into everything. It went on long enough that even though his labwork didn’t show any signs of trouble, I requested a set of blood cultures and skipped a nap to drive all the way to the hospital to get them done.

And then, that night, as I was getting Patrick ready for bed, I checked his temperature and discovered he had a fever. We called his doctor and came up to the hospital.

We were here 6 days, our longest stay in over a year, because it took forever to get the infection to respond to the treatment. (For various reasons I may or may not expound on later.) And because it took an extra long time to get the right antibiotic dose. It was a frustrating stay because he never got horribly sick, but he had staph epi in his line and it’s notoriously hard to clear. And the longer it took to clear, the more the doctors wanted to try a different approach (understandably.)

And, well, because the night shift just couldn’t manage to help him sleep through the night. But that’s a gripe for another day.

I’m afraid I jinxed us. One of the dramatic changes the doctors wanted to do to be sure to clear the infection was to switch from using ethanol to using vancomycin, a targeted antibiotic, to protect the line.

I raised more than a little bit of a stink. I insisted that we still use ethanol at least 4 hours a day. I made the attending come discuss it with me. And I won.

But i felt guilty. And when we went home, I did my best to follow doctors orders and put a heavy preference on vanco locks over ethanol.

Fastforward to today. For the 2 weeks since bringing Patrick home, I’ve been giving antibiotics every 8 hours.. including a dose at midnight. Tonight was supposed to be our last night.

Patrick’s cousins are in town and we’ve been having a grand family party. Aquarium trip. Hiking in the mountains. And today they rented a bounce house.

Patrick and I were very excited about today. Only one matter of business to take care of. A visit to his physical therapist. We have been waiting for MONTHS for a new DAFO (brace) for his foot to help with his worsening muscle tightness. And, Patrick has been dying to show his therapist how he’s learned to ride a tricycle.

Well – we got to the therapy office. And we got in the elevator. And Patrick’s breathing got a little shallow. And he gave a little shiver. And a hundred memories rushed back into my mind and I knew something was wrong. I remembered what a bad and out of sorts day he had yesterday, how his tummy was upset, how he had a hard time concentrating and kept getting into trouble.

So the elevator doors opened and I didn’t get off. Pushed the down button and went straight to the family clinic on the first floor. And I asked for a thermometer.

A nurse came out and checked and at first his temp was normal, but she rechecked and got 99.0. In his low ear.

So, we hopped in the elevator and went back upstairs to cancel our appointment.

Patrick was distraught. He didn’t want to be sick. He wanted to see Miss Holly.

Well, Miss Holly came out and I explained what was happening and she explained that the brace company had rejected the cast we’d sent as a model for his foot and asked her to recast. If we missed this appointment, it would be another month without a brace.

So – we made a deal. I’d call the hospital, she’d cast his foot to get a mold for the brace. Patrick would, well, try to cry more quietly.

By the time we left the therapy office, Patrick was sold on going to the hospital. So, we hurried home. Checked a temp. 101.8 this time. 15 minutes later. I grabbed the transplant go bag because I didn’t want to waste time packing, gave him some tylenol, and we booked it up to the ER.

The tylenol worked. Mostly. His fever was the same when we arrived.

And so, here we are. We are antibiotics to cover all the major bacteria, and an antifungal. I threw a bit of a momma bear tantrum when they tried to tell me they didn’t think we needed the antibiotic that kills his recurring kleibsiella bacteria.

He doesn’t feel well. He is tired. He only napped for 10 minutes. We have tried going for walks and in the end, he just prefers to lay in the bed.

And so, here we are. Hoping culture results are fast and clear. Hoping we are giving him the right drugs. Wondering how we’re going to make tomorrow bearable.

Just like every summer.

Mid-July rolls around and I start to get nervous. And I hate that we are here because I don’t want to be superstitious about certain months. But for some reason, summers are always hard for Patrick.

And so, I’m quite discouraged tonight. I am sad to be missing out on my first-of-the season tomatoes that I harvested this week and the green beans on my plants waiting for harvest and the great big yummy yellow zucchini sitting in the fridge. I hate that Patrick and I had finally hit our stride again, finally had a routine again, finally were catching up on the chores again. (Does anyone want to iron a month’s worth of dress shirts?)… And now we are starting over all over again.

But at least it is 10:30 and I can go to sleep because tonight giving the antibiotics on time is someone else’s responsibility.

Holiday fun

We’ve been doing our best to make the most of the holiday season. How fun it is to have a 2-year-old this year! Christmas is so magical for a child that age… and it’s the littest things that make the most difference. For example, Patrick’s been glued to the Christmas lights we hung on our house since the night we put them up. Now, given, we have some very cool lights this year – LED color changing icicles… He watches them and smiles whenever he sees them.

He loves the tree, too.. especially the ornaments.. and I’m finding that my investment in Ikea’s unbreakable ornaments has been a blessing because then he can take them off and carry them around without worrying me, and then we put new hooks on and hang them back up. (One disclaimer – they do break if you push a full toybox into them repeatedly.)

Of course, we took him to the Festival of Trees again this year. Last year, this really was a test of his patience. But this year, he loved the trees – especially the tree covered in Elmo dolls, and any tree with cars or trains under it. He wasn’t so happy that we made him stay in his stroller so we couldn’t play with the toys in the displays and did his best to sweet talk someone else into taking him out.

We did our best to see Santa there, too… but we arrived as Santa went on break and by the time he’d made it through the crowd (giving hugs and candy canes along the way) we’d run out of time.

After weeks of snow, we had some unseasonably nice weather last week. Monday night I realized that it was probably the warmest evening we’d get all year. So, I called Brian at work and we decided to seize the opportunity to see some Christmas lights.

I made some taco soup and we picnicked in Daddy’s cubicle. For the record, soup is Patrick’s current favorite food. We stick to clear, mild broths. I’m not sure it’s the best thing for his tummy, but it he loves it and there are worse things for him, and so I let him have it from time to time. He makes a little sipping sound to ask for it and will eat until there isn’t a drop left.

After eating, we bundled up. I made a little tube warmer for Patrick because if the fluid in the IV’s gets cold on the way into his body, Patrick gets chilled really quickly. It takes about 5 minutes to do the 10 feet of velcro, but it seems to work. Then we added coat and hat and gloves. Patrick was more than happy to stay bundled and warm.

We’ve got a zoo pass, so Patrick is familiar with the zoo… but looked a bit confused when we arrived there after dark.

And then, when we walked in and saw the lights, his eyes got big and he grinned from ear to ear!

Posing with some of the lights (the little grey thing by his back is end of the tube warmer)

They had a really impressive display. Lots of lights everywhere, including full habitat scenes. And, where possible, we were able to walk in and see some real animals… mostly fast asleep. The leopard was sleeping sprawled in plain sight, but woke up to give us all a nasty look for interrupting his rest. And did you know that monkeys sleep all in a pile in the top of a tree?

Afterwards, we stopped in the gift shop to pick and ornament for our tree and let Patrick pick out a stuffed animal, too, that he’ll get on Christmas.

The next night, we finally got to see Santa. HopeKids had a big Christmas party for the kids. So big, in fact, that it took 3 sessions to accomodate everyone and there was still a huge crowd.

If I haven’t explained it before, HopeKids is an organization that plans free activities for kids with terminal illnesses. The idea is that if you have something to look forward to, then you have something to hope for and something to live for.

Well, we can’t really explain plans to Patrick. However, he’s beginning to understand one thing… the HopeKids shirt means fun is coming. I went to get him ready to go and pulled out two choices – a Christmas shirt because I knew photos would be taken… or the HopeKids shirt. Patrick caught one glimpse of the shirt and started to beg to wear it. When I tried just putting the Christmas shirt on him, he melted into tears.

This is what happens when mom says "No, stay there a little bit longer" — This is what happens when mom says “No, stay there a little bit longer”

Finally, I conceded and let him wear both. Which made him happy enough until that night when it was time for PJ’s and he fell apart again because I made him take it off… he carried it with him the rest of the night.

Why so much fuss about a shirt? Because Patrick knows that if we get out our HopeKids shirts… especially if we all wear them… that something really fun is about to happen.

This time, it came in the form of the biggest and most kid centered Christmas party I’ve ever seen. There were photographers, of course… and Christmas presents. (They let the kids pick their own… Patrick picked a fire truck). There was a magician and a juggler and pizza and so very, very many crafts.

Patrick looks pretty unhappy to see Santa in the picture we took. I think that’s cuz we put him on Santa’s lap and then made him stay there while we took pictures. As the night wore on, Santa came back a few times and each time, Patrick was less nervous. By the end, Santa could come get a high 5 or a pound on the fist and even a little grin.

Amazingly, Patrick even enjoyed the show. Usually he’s pretty unhappy when crowds laugh or applaud, but this time, he clapped and pretended to laugh right with everyone else, though I’m not sure that he really could see what we were all laughing at.

There’s still more Christmas fun to be had. We are almost caught up with shopping and half done wrapping presents. We’ve baked our goodies and visited the neighbors. Tomorrow is Patrick’s last appointment for the rest of the month… We had a busy couple of weeks trying to fit everyone in before offices closed for the holidays. But I’m hoping now it will be worth it as we have nothing left to do but play and enjoy the family and the holiday.

Baby steps

I mentioned a while back that we were taking Patrick to see a doctor who specialized in rehabilitation and development. It’s about time I write about it.

The appointment went a lot more positively than I’d expected. I went in half expecting for her to see the muscle tone in Patrick’s foot and decide it was time for dramatic action. Patrick’s physical therapist had suggested botox injections and casting, and I was afraid that that was the next step.

I was so nervous, in fact, that I had Brian come along with me. That wasn’t the sort of decision I wanted to make alone. And he was kind enough to take the whole day off, which was an extra special treat.

They make you feel out a history every time you go into this office, including a list of everything that’s changed in the last 6 months since you were seen. This can be quite the task to list everything and I often just write blanket statements like “typical to short gut” so I don’t have to fill in all the hospitalizations, diet changes, etc.

The good thing about this form, though, is that it gives the doctor an idea of where to start, so she came in and right away said, “So why do you think he’s having problems with his foot?” We stripped Patrick down so she could see his muscles as he walked and then we had him walk back and forth between us. We also talked about the developmental lag I’ve seen on his right side versus his left. She watched the way he hold his hands when relaxed. She stretched his muscles to see how they move.

In the end, we didn’t decide anything new… but she confirmed a lot of things I’ve suspected. Basically, it looks as though there was some degree of brain damage caused by Patrick’s cardiac arrest. This isn’t a surprise. They did CPR for 15 minutes, which means that for 15 minutes, he didn’t have a good supply of oxygen to his brain. In fact, everyone’s always amazed at just how well he IS doing in spite of that.

This doctor, even telling me that there seems to have been damage, still calls him a miracle and says that he is far, far healthier than his medical history would predict.

The official diagnosis she gave is “dystonia”… which basically means “irregular muscle tone.” In layman’s terms, it means that his brain sends the message to move the muscle, but the message gets garbled somewhere along the way. The message the foot get tells the muscles to flex harder than they should or in the wrong direction. The faster he tries to go, the more the signal gets confused and the more unpredictable the movements.

She said to just keep working with him. She said that these muscle tone issues could vary in how much they affect him as he grows and the muscles relax or get tighter. In the future, they might still recommend injections of botox into the muscles to weaken them so he can have better control of them. But that’s not for now.

For now, we’ll continue to do what we’ve been doing. We’ll keep a brace on his foot and we’ll do stretches every morning and night. We’ll keep encouraging him to walk wherever he goes and we’ll hope that, like the rest of his right side movements, he’ll get better with practice so that you don’t even notice a difference unless you know what you’re watching for.

It’s a relief to have my suspicions confirmed and plan of action approved. For the past year I’ve been telling therapists that I suspected something was wrong. It’s only been since we started working on walking with his newest PT that it’s been clear that something actually was wrong.

It’s discouraging, though, too to know that he’s going to have this battle ahead of him. He’s young enough that his brain is very “plastic”, very adaptable and it is possible for him to overcome most of the effects of this… But it’s going to require a lot more effort from him and from me to learn to do those basic things.

Still, he’s making amazing progress with his “boot”. He spent 15 minutes yesterday walking 6 feet between his therapist and myself. Then, he spent most of the evening walking across my mother’s living room. He lets go when he’s playing next to furniture. He refuses to have two hands held while he walks. He is getting faster and steadier and braver. He’ll be walking in no time.