Category: Brian

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.

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Unpredictable

I like planning and I like things going as planned. I’ve never been very spontaneous. Patrick is teaching me things.

We thought we’d be heading home a couple nights ago. Patrick’s weekend was completely uneventful. He was healthy and happy and doing really well. Everything was in order – he was on the schedule for his line to be placed on Tuesday and then once it was in, we were going home. We’ve done that surgery outpatient before, so why not go home the same day, right?

Monday night my nurse couldn’t find a record of him being on the surgery schedule, though.. even though I was sure they were planning on it because his surgeon had talked to me about doing it. All night long I had nightmares about him not getting his line.

But before the sun was up Tuesday morning, I was signing a consent for surgery. That afternoon, out of the blue, surgical transport came to get Patrick. I had a pow wow with his surgeon in the hall on the way down then went through the usual presurgery consent and exchange of history, kissed him goodbye, and went to the surgery waiting room. Pretty routine.

This time, though, things were just slow! This procedure usually takes 30-45 minutes. And an hour and 15 I was asking for updates from the O.R. But then, minutes later, his surgeon came to tell me the line was in and everything had gone well.

Great, I thought, and sat down to wait again. Typically 15 minutes or so after the surgeon visits me I get to go back to recovery. 15 minutes passed and then the anesthesiologist came to talk to me. He explained that Patrick had somehow been extubated during the procedure, but that he thought he was ok.

2 hours after I got to the waiting room, they finally called me to recovery. Patrick seemed to be just fine.. mellow and with tears dried in his hair, but ok. We brought him up to the room and he cuddled up with me in the rocking chair.

Soon it was time to give his afternoon medicines. Because of his allergic reaction to the caspofungin, they give him Benadryl first now and that on top of the anesthesia helped him fall very fast asleep.

Brian came and packed up the room. The doctors came and gave me discharge instructions and prescriptions. We were just waiting out the medication and waiting for his TPN to be delivered.

Then I noticed that Patrick felt rather warm. So, reluctantly, I paged the nurse and asked her to check his temperature. The result – 103.3.

Just then, the TPN arrived.. the last piece we’d needed to go home. And we were staying. They drew a bunch of labwork to look for infection, just to be safe.

Patrick’s lungs seemed a bit coarser than normal and he had a cough. The doctors theorize that the fever was a result of something that happened with the anesthesia or his airway while he was in the O.R. Throughout the night, he finally got some good coughs and his fever went down.

By morning, he seemed to be just fine. They stopped the antibiotics they’d added as a preventative measure.

So – here we are still. I’ve learned never to really count on the first discharge date we plan for… but we were so close this time!!

We’re ok, though. We’ve got a fair amount of cabin fever. And I’m definitely missing some of the comforts of home like soft toilet paper and going barefoot. But we’ll make it through. At least he’s happy and healthy and allowed to leave his room to go to the playroom where he can spend hours running around the room holding my hand with one of his, and pushing a push toy or chair with the other while i try to keep up with the IV pole.. keeping his feet out of the tubing.

We’re hoping to go home maybe tomorrow morning, now. <Knock on wood>. To do that his cultures have to stay negative and he has to not give us any more surprises.

Home again

I just wanted to take a minute to let you all know that Patrick and I made it home safely Saturday evening. The flight was a bit late and very full, but overall the trip went very smoothly. Patrick and I even got the opportunity to ride home next to a very kind woman. She and her husband are considering adopting and I got to spend the whole flight talking up adoption, especially special needs adoption. Patrick liked her, too, and even spent some time playing and cuddling with her during the flight.

We’re all pretty tired. Patrick and I both still have pretty bad coughs. Fortunately, Brian’s healthy.. but has been struggling to make up for the time he took off at work. On top of that, they scheduled a power outage last night. He ended up spending the whole night working to get servers back online.

On a different, and happy note, Brian and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary yesterday. With all that we’ve been through this week, it was a pretty simple celebration. My parents took Patrick for a couple of hours and we went to dinner and our first movie in well over a year.

It’s funny how life changes change perspective. Our anniversary was very low-key, yet I found myself overflowingly grateful to have the kind of marriage that doesn’t need a lot of frills to be happy. I love my husband more today than the day I married him.

Adoption Reflections: Getting to know you

I left off my story the night before Brian & I flew to Michigan.

Saturday morning, Brian and I got up before the sun. We went shopping for a few more baby things and for some presents for Patrick’s birth family. Then we went to the airport.

It was so strange waiting in line with a carseat, but no baby. In fact, the sight of us juggling so much luggage and an empty carseat drew some attention. A very kind man ended up helping me in line while Brian was off getting some money at the ATM. We were talking about our reasons for flying. He was taking equipment to Africa where he was going to teach people in 3rd world areas to build and maintain wells. When I explained why we were flying, he was in awe. It was very strange to meet this great humanitarian and have him be impressed with what I was doing.

We were flying standby, so Brian ended up about 10 rows behind me. I remember hearing him telling other passengers why we were flying and thinking “This is all so surreal.”

The amazing thing was, for all I was nervous, it was also all so peaceful. I’ll always remember how beautiful the fall leaves were on the trees as we landed.. and how right everything felt.

It was evening before we got to our hotel room, and then to the hospital.

We arrived and explained why we were there and were shown to a family waiting room. Where we waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, we met Patrick’s birth family… his mother, grandmother and aunt. Our timing couldn’t have been worse. We ended up arriving in the middle of a family crisis. But they amazed us with the grace and kindness they showed us.

We talked to the head of the NICU and to Patrick’s family for a while…learned more about his medical needs, and then finally got to meet Patrick.

I remember thinking that he was SO tiny! Just this fragile little ball of baby, with a head full of black hair. I got to hold him that night and was just amazed by him. We also got to know his birthmother and her family a little bit.

Soothed by my paci

We went back to our hotel a bit overwhelmed and not sure what to do. We were overwhelmed by how much of his medical status we hadn’t known… and by the whole situation in general.

But, we’d made a committment to give Patrick a day, and so the next day we went back to the hospital. We explained to the nurse that we’d like to learn all we could about caring for Patrick, and she was wonderful about giving us that chance. She taught us to change his diapers (around tubes). And she let us hold him.

Brian and I each got some time alone with him that day. I remember holding and rocking him and singing to him the words of a children’s song:

“I am a child of God,
and He has sent me here,
has given me an earthly home
with parents kind and dear.”

And my heart broke at the idea that Patrick didn’t yet know where his earthly home and parents were. And I didn’t know if I was able to provide that for him or not.

As the evening wore on, the head of the adoption agency finally came. She’d gotten word that no one from the agency had really acknowledged our arrival. She explained to us Michigan’s adoption laws, and what she knew of Patrick, his medical needs, and his birth family.

While she was there, two elders from our church arrived… courtesy Patrick’s grandma. (I’ll forever be indebted to her for sending them). They came to bring us the sacrament, and while they were there gave us priesthood blessings of comfort.

We visited with the adoption supervisor for hours, and then went back and spent a bit more time with Patrick. Then we went back to our hotel.

That night, as we were sorting through the dozens of pictures we’d taken that day, one jumped out at me. I looked at it and just KNEW that I loved this baby! And that I wanted him to be my son.

First days

Monday morning, we went back to the hospital. Finally people were there! We met more doctors, the hospital social worker, and the care manager who’d help us to get Patrick home. Calls were made to Primary Children’s to see if the doctors in Utah could take care of Patrick. His surgeons came and talked to us about Short Gut and transplantation. Finally we felt like we were getting a grasp on this situation, and amazingly, we felt like it might be something we could do.

Then we had the big decision to make. The night before, the woman from the adoption agency had explained that the papers we’d signed in Utah would expire if they weren’t filed on Monday. Besides, Brian had to fly back to Utah that afternoon for a conference at work. We had to make a decision before he left for the airport about whether or not we were adopting Patrick.

We held a “family conference” that morning… Just Brian, Patrick and I. We talked about the decision we were facing… and the fact that we felt ready to move forward. Then Brian turned to Patrick and asked him if he’d like to join our family.

He had been sleeping, but he opened his eyes and kind of looked at Brian, as if sizing him up. Then settled back down to sleep in his arms, as if totally content. We took that as a yes.

We asked our nurse to take our first family picture.

At 1, Patrick’s social worker from the adoption agency and the hospital social worker met with us. We didn’t have much time, so we signed papers in a hurry. Then we left to take Brian to the airport.

And that was it… Brian kissed me goodbye at the curb and said “Take care of our son.” We had a son! One with far more troubles ahead that we could imagine… but one who also just filled every room he was in with the feeling of peace and joy.

We’ve never looked back. Patrick is our little boy and we love him with all our hearts!

Through Grandma’s eyes

I have so far resisted the impulse to write and to let Emily handle all the blogging. But after reading her most recent post about the beginning of this journey, I feel like adding some of my own thoughts.

It is difficult for a mother of seven to see her daughters struggle with infertility. I always have a prayer in my heart for them to be able to experience the joy that I feel as a mother and grandmother.

When Emily and Brian came to us with the story of the little baby born in Michigan that might not have a long life, I had such mixed feelings. I wanted them to have this little guy in their lives, but didn’t want them to have to suffer any more sorrow. There were so many unknowns. I can’t tell you why I fell so instantly in love with that little 2 x 2 inch digital image, but I did, and hoped that things would work out.

I don’t want to jump ahead too much from Emily’s story…but the best part of November last year for me was that I got to go to Michigan and meet Patrick myself. Brian had to come back to Utah and complete a project at work. Thankfully, we have access to Delta Buddy passes and I was able to fly out and stay with Emily for the week he was gone.

She picked me up at the airport and I don’t remember if we went to the hotel first, but we were at the hospital in no time. We had to check in at a secure desk and then off to wash. This was an event in and of itself. Roll up your sleeves, take off your jewelry, look at the clock and then begin to scrub and not just for a few seconds, it took several minutes.

Then through a maze of sorts (took me a couple of days to figure it all out) and we were in Patrick’s room. The lights were dim and there he was…big brown eyes and lots and lots of dark hair. He was so tiny. Just over 5 lbs. His tiny head fit easily into just the palm of my hand. Holding him was no effort at all, except that he had leads and tubes that connected him to life-saving and monitoring equipment.

The next few days were spent mostly at the hospital. We spent very little time in the hotel, just enough to heat up some food (can’t cook everything in the microwave believe it or not) and send home the many, many pictures that we were taking to keep Brian up-to-date. We had time to attend a Sacrament Meeting and catch some people at the Detroit Temple and ask them to place him name on the roll there. But we made sure that we were there for rounds morning and night as much as possible. Every day there were new things to learn about Patrick’s condition.

Emily was swamped with the details of the adoption, the insurance, medical decisions, travel plans and keeping family back home in the loop. Because she had phone calls to make, I got to hold Patrick for many, many hours. He isn’t able to have much by mouth and the instinct to comfort a crying baby with a bottle or breast just wasn’t an option. We quickly learned the value of a “paci”.

The nurses there are amazing. They are caring and skilled. They seemed to have an instinct for being available but not in the way. I felt comfortable enough to sing him and tell him stories and I know Emily did, too. And I know that when we weren’t there, they were holding him and loving him just like we did.

I will forever treasure that special week getting to know this grandson. I am grateful for the self-less decision that Brian and Emily made to bring him into our family. They are amazing, completely prepared by the Lord for their role as Patrick’s parents.

Patrick’s 1st Birthday Party

Patrick had SUCH a good birthday! He could tell from the party preparations the night before that something good was going on. He watched me decorate his birthday cake… and then was too happy and excited to go to sleep.

He did, though, finally, and when he got up in the morning, he was again just HAPPY! It’s like he knew this was a big day.

Because Patrick’s birthday is on Halloween, we dressed up and invited guests to do the same. We chose a circus theme for the party. Patrick was dressed as a monkey. Brian was the ringmaster. I was a clown.

We spent the morning finishing things up for the party. He thought watching me hang streamers was great fun! (I used red and white streamers to create the feel of a circus tent in our living room.) About 1 we changed into costumes.. he loved my clown wig and played with it for most of the rest of the day.

Slowly the guests arrived. Because Brian and I have brothers, sisters and parents nearby, we knew there would be a lot of grown-ups… so we made all the circus activities self-serve. The adults helped the kids paint their faces and learned to make balloon animals for them. We had popcorn and animal crackers and caramel apples.

Of course, most everyone came in costume. Some carried on the circus theme… My dad came as a lion tamer, with my mom dressed as his lion. My brother was a magician.

Some of the friends and family who dressed up

Once everyone arrived, we sang Happy Birthday and Brian blew out Patrick’s candle. (Patrick was too confused about why everyone was singing and just kept watching me to see if it was OK.)

He’s not allowed sugar, so he couldn’t have cake, but he was given permission this week to have cheetos and hulless popcorn, so that’s what he munched on instead.

Daddy’s better than any boring old snack.

Then we opened presents. He got lots of new toys and some new clothes. He loved them all, but I think his favorite thing about the party was not the gifts, but the fact that all the people he loved best were there.

Patrick & “Papa”, Brian’s dad

Patrick and Grandpa, Emily’s Dad

The party wrapped up around 6. All the kids went home with hands full of balloons, balloon animals, caramel apples, and cracker jacks with faces all painted. I think everyone had a really good time!

That put us just on time for trick-or-treaters. Patrick didn’t go trick-or-treating this year… he’s too little and not allowed candy anyway. At first he liked seeing all the people who came to the door. Eventually he got tired and not too happy when people would ring the doorbell. Eventually I sat him on my lap and we read books until we were sure he was good and tired. Then, we turned off the porch light and put him in bed. He was exhausted, and so were we.We all crashed for the night.

Fathers Day Reflections

Chicken and I had the opportunity to go to church at the hospital today (for those who haven’t heard, Patrick is in the hospital, but those details will come later). While we were sitting there a lot of emotions regarding fathers day came to mind. I thought that I would try to write some of those down.

First my very own fathers day… It seems like a long time ago. A year ago, Chicken and I were just starting into the approval process for adoption. Oh how things can change in a year. It is hard to believe that we now have a little guy that is growing and progressing. So this is my first official fathers day, the gray hairs show that I’m a dad.
It is also amazing to think about all the stuff that we have learned. It is a humbling experience to arrive at the hospital and have the doctors take orders from you. We (mainly Chicken) have come up with a routine that has Patrick growing and staying relatively healthy, the doctors don’t want to mess with that situation, so they listen carefully to how we do things. I appreciate all the wonderful nurses that will sit and listen to all the little things that we do for Patrick, and attempt to follow it.
This fathers day also makes me think about my father, who is out of the country, so I won’t see him today. I sure hope he is enjoying his time in Mexico, in some ways I wish Chicken and I were there to show him some of the joys of visiting Mexico. I can see a lot of me in my dad. Thanks for helping to make me the person I am today. (I hope that doesn’t sound conceded).

I have also spent some time thinking about birth fathers. They kinda get left out of the adoption picture, or get blamed for the adoption situation. I think that it is very rare that birth fathers forget about their children. Some may make choices that don’t reflect the love that they that have for that child. But they do make the sacrifice to give their child a good home with another father who cares about their child. In our case the relationship with the birth father has slowly grown, it shows very much that he cares for Patrick. Thanks, Nick.
Well I think is enough out of me for one post. I probably won’t tell anyone else that this is here, if you stumble across it, thanks for reading.
– This post was written by Brian, a.k.a. Howie

Transplant Pre-evaluation: Night 3 & Days 4 & 5

Boy I didn’t mean to leave you all in a cliffhanger there. May turned out to be a rough month for us. Patrick was hospitalized twice with fevers and Brian & I have been sick, too… Blogging is one of the first things to go when things get hectic in our family. I’ll blog more about our first experiences inpatient at Primary Children’s… But I left you all hanging with the story of our first inpatient experience at Seattle Children’s.

So here goes…After Patrick’s GI sprung on us the idea of admitting him to the hospital for labwork and a transfusion, we made a few calls to make sure it was approved by the insurance company, and then the transplant coordinator took us to the admitting desk.

We traded in our clinic “Parent” badges for inpatient badges on lanyards that allowed us to wander around the hospital anytime day or night. Someone from admitting met us and led us over to what would be our room for the night. A nurse came in and started to take Patrick’s history. When I handed her my printed medical fact sheet, we got instant brownie points. She took the first vitals and got us settled in the room, but then her shift ended. This is the problem we’ve witnessed a few times… Things move slower if you arrive at shift change because there’s so much else going on.Around 7:30 things finally started to progress. Because we hadn’t been planning on spending the night, there were a few medical procedures that we would have done in the hotel room that we found ourselves having to ask permission for, and even supplies for… But they finally got it all done. We met the doctor and made a tentative plan for labs to be drawn once the blood for the transfusion had arrived. The IV nurse came and took some labs for blood typing and left a peripheral IV in Patrick’s foot that they’d be able to give the transfusion through.

Around 9 things finally settled down enough for us to order some Chinese takeout. (The only restaurant open that would still deliver to the hospital at that time of night)… and after it arrived, Howie went back to the hotel room and brought back the things we’d need for the night.Our room was in the surgical unit and was really quite nice. It was a shared room but Patrick was the only patient overnight. It had a nice couch that folded down into a bed, a bathroom in the room, and a window with a pretty nice view. When it wasn’t cloudy, you could see the space needle.

Things went pretty smoothly overnight. Patrick had a really great nurse who was impressively quiet. I woke up when the blood arrived for the transfusion so that I could take care of the TPN (they allowed us to run our home pumps, providing we were always available to operate them).

The next morning they wanted to do a floroscope (contrast X-ray) of his intestines. This was to be done in two parts so they could see the top and the bottom separately. They showed up early for the first one and took us to radiology where they took a chest x-ray and then strapped him to a board on the floroscope table. The board restrained his arms, legs, and head and also allowed the radiologist to tip and turn him.Patrick didn’t like this at all, but they let Brian and I be close to comfort him (Brian was actually in charge of protecting his head when they turned the board) and Patrick eventually fell asleep during the test

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They put a contrast solution in through his g-tube and took images showing it move through the stomach and out his stoma. It was interesting to watch it move through and appear on the screen.Then we were supposed to wait and see how long it took for the contrast to clear so they could see his large intestine without the small.

I was sleepy, hungry (they showed up before I could get breakfast) and frustrated at my plans for a mini-vacation being postponed. When the radiologist hinted that they might keep Patrick another night for the next floroscope to be done, that pushed me over the edge a bit… So Brian sent me to get breakfast straight from radiology and went with Patrick back to the room.

When I got back, he informed me that we’d missed rounds… fortunately we didn’t miss his GI, who came in just a few minutes after I did. He promised that they wouldn’t keep us another night, did a quick exam of Patrick, and then left.

Brian had a business lunch he’d scheduled so I stayed in the room and tried to get some sleep… Unfortunately, we got a roommate whose alarms were going off regularly and that was a mostly vain effort. The rest of the day was waiting and more waiting to see if the contrast would clear out of Patrick’s system… When it still hadn’t by 3 p.m. they finally started to work on a discharge plan. We’d come back outpatient the next day for the next test before our flight.

We finally made it out of there sometime in the late afternoon and snuck a nap in before finally getting out to play a bit.

Our friends Lindy & Kelly took us out for some authentic Italian pizza and then for Seattle’s famous Royal cupcakes. It was good to get to visit and spend some time with them. I was impressed by Lindy’s cunning as she excused herself to go to the bathroom and really went and paid both halves of the bill.

Our last morning in Seattle we got up and went to the hospital for the last time. The radiology tech from the day before was there yet again and very excited to see our names on the schedule. I asked if we could take pictures of Patrick on the table for this test and before you knew it, they’d convinced us to pose for this picture, which seems so wrong to be smiling in, but gives you an idea of what room, equipment, and our lovely lead vests were like.

Turned out to be really good we were there because I’d seen previous tests and knew that what first appeared on the screen was not the full length of large intestine and could encourage the radiologist to inject more contrast until we saw the rest. Because this organ isn’t used, it is rather narrow.
We made it away with just enough time to meet Lindy and Lauren and enjoy a nice walk in the park and a delightful lunch before rushing off to catch our plane. Obviously, it wore the kids out.
Security in Seattle didn’t go quite as smoothly as Salt Lake… I think this is because the first person who I was able to tell about Patrick’s pumps was the security agent at the metal detector who I think mistook the backpack with tubes coming out as something scary. We quickly got things sorted out, though, and they didn’t have other problems with the extra search.Patrick and his daddy slept through pretty much the entire flight and we got home without incident… But with very full mind from everything we’d learned and a much better sense of just what a big deal this all really is.

If I can manage a few more days of health in this house, I’ll post a bit more about how much this one little trip and the plan for transplant affects and will continue to affect our little family.