Happy Anniversary Howie

wedding-photos7 years ago, I made the best choice I ever made. 7 years ago tomorrow, I went to the temple to marry my best friend. There, we promised to love and care for one another for time and for all eternity.

Howie (whose given name is Brian) is truly my better half. We met as teenagers. We got to know each other best when we worked in the same mall. (He was kind enough to allow me to take my breaks in his store. We jokes, wrestled, and sometimes he’d even take me for ice cream.)

Shortly after high school, he was called to serve as a missionary for our church in Southern Italy. He went to Italy and I moved away to go to school and we wrote letters to stay in touch, weekly letters. I learned to love Italian chocolate. He returned as I was finishing college. He returned to school and I decided I’d like to be a missionary and so, we traded places. I went to Chicago to work as a missionary and he went to school, and we continued to write letters.

rubber-chicken

We fell in love through those letters and a month after I returned home, He proposed. He presented my ring to me on a platter.. on the beak of a rubber chicken we’d mailed back and forth through all those years of letter writing. How could I say no?

Howie is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He has always known just what to say to calm me down when I work myself into an anxious fit. He knows how to make me laugh. He knows just the things to do to make me smile.

close-up

We’ve been through some difficult things in our marriage. Not the least of these has been taking care of our very special boy.

I don’t know how I’d do it without him to bring me clothes and treats when Patrick’s in the hospital, to read the “Jesus Book” to Patrick every night while I get meds ready, to get me out of the house when I get overwhelmed, to be my assistant for all medical procedures, to rejoice with me over the little triumphs no one else could understand, and to tell me that things will be ok even when neither one of us is sure of how they will.

I could not ask for a better friend, a better father to my son, a better provider, or a better husband.

Happy Anniversary, Howie.

Please don’t be mad for too long that I posted a tribute for the world to see.

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Thanksgiving

What’s the best thing about Thanksgiving dinner? Not the food, according to Patrick, who really didn’t even want to eat much of anything at either of the family get-togethers we went to. For Patrick, the best part of Thanksgiving dinner was that it put his family all together between the hours of 2 & 4 p.m. This is when Patrick has his break from his TPN, which means that on two consecutive days, Patrick got to run around tube free and play with his very favorite people.

You couldn’t ask for a better holiday treat.

I’ll admit, I enjoyed it, too. It’s different to go to an event and be able to let Patrick play without having to follow behind him watching his tubes.

And the best thing about the entire holiday weekend? Well, according to Patrick, it was having Daddy home for so many days in a row. He didn’t want to let him out of his sight. Friday morning we went to do a little bit of Christmas shopping and when Brian walked away from the cart, Patrick was absolutely heartbroken.

Daddy is, hands down, Patrick’s favorite person in the entire world. And who am I to argue? The two of them are my two favorite people, too.

Spending the holiday with the two of them, free from the hospital, healthy and happy is truely something to be thankful for.

2 years old

It’s amazing to think that my baby is 2 years old! He has grown so much in this past year! And it is such a miracle to still have him here with us.

We had a great time celebrating his birthday. Since it fell on a Sunday, we spent the morning at church. We dressed him up in a new little sport coat. They sang to him in his Primary class and he got to go get a treat from the bishop.

After church and naps, it was time to get ready for the party. Since Sunday dinner is a tradition for both sides of the family, we decided to invite all of them to dinner together.  I worked all the week before shopping and preparing food… ironic for a child who doesn’t eat. We did our best to pick foods he could share, though… and that wouldn’t take the party too long to eat so Patrick wouldn’t have to wait for them.

Patrick’s birthday dinner was simple, but his favorites. We bought him a personal sized bag of Baked Lays potato chips and a little cup with a bendy straw that we filled with water. Patrick LOVES eating chips out of the bag, so having his own was the perfect birthday treat and he had fun getting them EVERYWHERE around him.

After dinner, we gathered to sing Happy Birthday and blow out candles. Because Patrick can’t have milk, eggs, or sugar, I decided to make a non-food cake this year. I painted a round box and decorated it like a cake with cars everywhere, one of Patrick’s favorite things right now.

The street signs all had birthday messages on them. After blowing out the candle, we opened the cake instead of cutting it. It was filled with toy cars for all the kids to share.

Then we opened presents. Patrick made off like a bandit with about 20 small toy cars and a few big ones, shape sorters, balls, toy instruments and tools, books, puzzles, pop-up-pals and more.

Brian and I gave him our big present the day before so he could take it trick or treating… his very own Radio Flyer wagon. He wanted to help build it, so I gave him his toy hammer and soon he and daddy were both banging away.

It took me most of a day to clean up and make room for it all, but he plays with all the new toys almost every day… getting them out himself. He couldn’t be happier!

And the wagon – oh the wagon – has taught him a new independence. I can put his backpack in the wagon and he will push it around the yard all by himself for an hour or more. Just try to end this game before he’s tired and he’ll cry inconsolably.

Many thanks to those who helped to make Patrick’s birthday party a success. Those who helped cook, host, setup or cleanup. Those who made extra effort to come. And those far away who couldn’t come, but sent presents.

We all know what an absolute miracle this 2nd birthday is! Thank you for sharing with us in celebrating a momentous day!

Trick or Treat – but hold the treat

Because Halloween fell on Sunday this year, it was celebrated on early in Utah. This gave us the rare opportunity to celebrate Halloween and Patrick’s birthday separately. And just in time, too… as Patrick is just old enough to enjoy the ideas of costumes, walking, and collecting small things in a little bag. A perfect year to introduce him to trick-or-treating without the woes of having to make up for the fact that he’s not allowed to eat candy.

We started our celebrations on Friday. Brian’s office invited the children of employees to come in to the office and trick-or-treat desk to desk. So we got Patrick all dressed up and went to spend the morning at daddy’s work.

Patrick was a lion this year. We lucked out on the costume. We ordered it online… early… to allow time for me to make modifications to allow for his tubes and his brace. But no adjustments were necessary. The snaps were all in just the right places. And Patrick loved the hood (still asks to put it on to play) and the little mittens. He’d ask to put his hands in the gloves, then wave them around excitedly.


Our very talented friend Jillian made a little trick-or-treat bag that Patrick could carry on his arm to collect treats in. I had a larger trick or treat bucket to move things to when the bag got too full or too distracting.

Trick or treating in the office was fun. We went from floor to floor and Patrick got to flirt with the women, show off for the men, and collect lots of little candies in his bag. It was funny that, although he’s never tried candy in his life, he seemed to prefer the M&M’s. Brian kept trying to sway him to different treats, since mommy and daddy would be eating them, not Patrick… but Patrick was persistent in choosing the M&M’s whereever they were offered.

Saturday morning was still a flurry of getting ready for Patrick’s birthday party on Sunday.. but by afternoon we were ready to go trick-or-treating again.

We started with grandparents. Patrick enjoyed showing off his costume and playing with the little toys that each had gotten for him in lieu of candy. Then, we hurried on our way hoping to make it home before the day’s rain made it too cold to want to go out.
We made it home after the worst of the storm and ate dinner, but it was still sprinkling when we loaded him into the brand new wagon we’d gotten as a birthday present. The ward had scheduled a trunk or treat, but chickened out in the rain. So we went ahead with our original plan to just visit a few close friends.

At first, Patrick was happy enough and quite adorable. He’d wander up with me to the door and try to go in, then act confused when we put candy in his bag and walked away.

After a couple of houses, though, this wasn’t much fun anymore either. He didn’t get why we were doing this and his foot seemed to hurt, to boot. He started to cry whenever we took him out of the wagon, so we went to just a couple more houses and then came back home.

He was content to spend the rest of the evening moving his treats from his trick or treat bag to the bucket and back. He got sleepy and went to bed around 8, thoroughly worn out.

All in all, it was a pretty successful first attempt at trick-or-treat for Halloween.

Happy 2nd Birthday Patrick

Not many people get sentimental around Halloween. In our house, we just can’t help it.

2 years ago at 3:07 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, Patrick made his way into this world with much excitement. Doctors swept him out of the delivery room and into the operating room. The prognosis for him was grim. At first hours or days, then no more than 1 or 2 years.

That’s what we were told a few days later when we first heard about Patrick. Infections or liver failure would take his life within the first couple of years ago.

We were scared to hear that news and not sure what the future would hold. But there was something special about that beautiful little boy with the angel eyes and we loved him more each time we told his story and looked at his picture.

Last year, when we celebrated Patrick’s first birthday it was a big event. We almost lost him that year and his mere presence at home with us that day was a cause for celebration.

This year, not only is Patrick still healthy and still home, but he is amazing us as he grows bigger and stronger with each passing day. I didn’t imagine when we met Patrick that he’d be the vibrant little boy that his is now at age 2. On his first birthday, we had even more reason to wonder whether we’d ever see that day.

Patrick is walking. Not all of the time, but often and with more confidence in every step. He is learns more words all the time and loves having you teach him words for the toys he finds of the books you’re looking at. He loves the people he loves with an enthusiasm that’s hard to describe. He loves cars and Elmo and pushing his brand new birthday gift wagon. He kisses us goodnight every night and gives me hugs and kisses every morning. He adores his Daddy. He gets into trouble with his friends in music group. He likes chips and french fries and drinking from a straw.

He’s an amazing little boy whose love of life is contagious.

Happy Birthday Patrick. May this be one of many, many more!

Fireworks

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

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

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

Who needs sleep?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mother’s Day

Patrick is feeling much, much better now. The infection has been well treated with the medicines he’s getting. He’s stable, happy, and playing. Doesn’t need monitors. Doesn’t need much attention at all, except giving his medications on time. There’s only one thing keeping us here. . .

Because this is the 2nd time in a very short time that Patrick’s had a yeast infection, they wanted to make good and sure that the bug is dead before they put a new line back in. Right now, Patrick has a good “deep line” in his leg. This means that it is in deep enough that they can draw labwork out of it and give better nutrition through it. However, it doesn’t go all the way to his heart, which means that it’s not as likely to get infected – but it’s also not really the safest for taking him home with. He’ll get a new central line on Tuesday and go home as soon as possible afterwards.

So, we spent Mother’s day in the hospital. It was a good day, though very quiet. We got to visit with both Brian’s mother and mine today. Patrick got to get all dressed up and go to church. (Best dressed patient in the hospital today, I’d bet.)

Being here has been a good opportunity for me to reflect on how grateful I am for the many different types of mothers who play a part in our lives. Mothering Patrick is not the kind of job I could do all by myself.

I’m grateful for a mother and mother-in-law who’ve been willing to step up and step in to learn how to provide Patrick’s medical care so that Brian and I can get the occasional night out or so that when I’m exhausted and at my wits end I have somewhere to turn. You may not know what a rare priviledge that is that you have given to us.

We are grateful for our mothers. You prepared us to be Patrick’s parents and you help us each day to do it. I don’t think it’s possible to count the number of prayers, meals, phone calls, visits, crazy projects, and more that you have offered for our little family.

I’m grateful for sisters and a sister-in-law who are also there to help lighten my load when I need it, to fill the fun aunt roles. They are helping to raise some spectacular children, Patrick’s cousins, and him as well.

I’m grateful this week for nurses and CNA’s who have taught me how to do this job, who’ve sat rocking Patrick in the dark so I can catch a few hours’ sleep, who listen when I need to cry or share in small, although sometimes icky, triumphs and who make my day every time we see them because of how much they love my child.

I’m grateful for Patrick’s birthmother. I have no doubt that she loves and is proud of Patrick. I am impressed by her strength. I’m grateful to his birth grandmothers who trusted in their children and loved Patrick. It’s not easy to support a son or daughter considering adoption when you know it means a grandchild will be far away. We are grateful for the love and trust and support they’ve shown in us. We also owe thanks to Patrick’s aunts who helped offer comfort when needed and still are lovingly watching over him. What a blessing it is that he was born into a family who loved him so much.

This mother’s day, thank you to all of you mothers who are there for us. You come in all shapes and sizes.. friends, neighbors, family, and more. I couldn’t do this without you.

Easter

It’s Easter morning and here in Utah a light dusting of snow fell overnight. Nevertheless, as happens with each spring snow, the tulips in my garden are still peeking out cheerfully, opening and turning to the sun as it rises. To me, there could be no better symbol of the message of Easter. As spring’s new life breaks forth giving color and warmth after a long, cold winter, so too does the promise of Life everlasting bring light and warmth to the cold, winters of this life.

Over 2000 years ago, a garden tomb was found empty. Jesus Christ had risen from the dead, and in so doing had opened the door to Eternal Life for all of us. It is that knowledge that has carried our family through some of the darkest winter moments.

This past year and a half hasn’t been easy, and we know the road ahead will be harder, still. Many times, I have shed tears as I’ve watched Patrick suffer pain and illness beyond my ability to comprehend. And yet, I know that there is One who can comfort him when I cannot. I know that Christ went forth “suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people. . . . And he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, . . . that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people” (Alma 7:11-12)

Patrick’s body is imperfect now. Yet, because of the resurrection of Christ, “The soul shall be restored to the body and the body to the soul; yea, and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a hair of the head shall not be lost; but all things shall be restored to their proper and perfect frame.” (Alma 40:23)

And, in the moments when we are reminded that this life is fleeting and that Patrick’s life may be a short one, I find comfort in the knowledge that. “… little children also have eternal life.” (Mosiah 15:25)

Modern prophets have proclaimed: “The divine plan of happiness enables family relationships to be perpetuated beyond the grave. Sacred ordinances and covenants available in holy temples make it possible for individuals to return to the presence of God and for families to be united eternally.” (The Family: A Proclamation to the World)  On a winter day in 2009, our family knelt at an altar and were sealed together for time and eternity. The atonement made possible not only eternal life, but eternal love and eternal families.

We may not know what the future holds, “But there is a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ.” (Mosiah 16:8) There is hope in whatever lies ahead.

This morning, I know of a little boy who is receiving a long-awaited heart transplant. Like tulips reaching for the sun on a snowy Easter morning, this boy’s family is seeing a miraculous glimmer of hope at the end of a long winter.

We hope Patrick’s turn will come soon, too. But whatever the outcome, this Easter I am grateful for the hope that brings springtime to my snowy days.. and for the knowledge of the atonement and resurrection of my Savior.