Category: Medical updates

Transplant Day 94 and still here

For all that the doctors and I always try to say that we can’t rush dates because you can’t predict what Patrick’s body will do, I sometimes accidentally get myself set on a goal and then am discouraged when we don’t meet that goal.

When Brian left, Patrick was flying through recovery. We pushed them to go up on feeds quickly because his belly was handling them. He was eating well. And we said, “I know you sat that he might needs weeks to get over this because he doesn’t have an immune system. But he feels great. And he’s a miracle. And he’ll shake this quick.”

He did not shake this quick. On Friday night, Patrick’s feeds had reached 70 and he was doing great. Two more increases.. one every 8 hours, and then a day of observation and he could be discharged. They turned up the feed rate at midnight, as the clock kicked over to midnight. At 1:30 I woke up to the sound of Patrick’s tummy churning angrily. And then the diarrhea started. And two diapers later, I called the nurse and said we needed to turn the rate back down.

I was already fried on Friday. I’d planned to ask for a volunteer and go back to the house for some laundry. But Patrick fell asleep at 1:00… and he slept till 5. He’d be woken, ask me to come lie down with him again, and then he’d crash again. I’m pretty sure his prograf level had gotten low enough from being sick that the side effect of insomnia had temporarily worn off. And I didn’t have the heart to wake him. But that meant that when he woke, I had missed the chance to get help to go do laundry. Instead, I tried going and getting change and using the one washing machine I know of on hospital property, in the hotel wing called the lied. I finally got someone to break my $5 bill.. but several trips to the washing machine later, I hadn’t been able to start laundry.

That night, I’d begged Patrick’s nurse to sit with him a little extra after giving meds so I could run back to the house and get clothes. I was literally out of clean ones. And that worked…

But then, here we were… awake during the night with a tummy ache and too many diapers and my pajamas got dirty and I had to try to do laundry again.

Patrick’s belly woke him at 6:30 a.m. so I decided to embrace it. I threw on clothes and hauled my laundry back to the other building and started a load of wash. I stopped in the cafeteria because I was still two quarters short of the change I needed to dry my clothes. Then I came back, hopped in the shower. When I got out, Patrick was out of his bed telling me he needed cleaned up. Oh boy did he. So, hair uncombed and socks off, I put together a sponge bath.

When I finally got that done, I was late moving the laundry to the dryer. So I hurried back, moved laundry.. came back and finished cleaning up the room, talked with Patrick’s morning nurse. Then, I went to pick up my laundry and got back to discover that I had missed rounds.

This was kind of the last straw. I knew when I’d asked for feeds to be turned back down that I was choosing at least one more day till discharge.. But to not even discuss the problem and plans with the team because I had been struggling to take care of myself was frustrating.

I broke down in tears. I sometimes really miss the amenities of a children’s hospital designed for parents to sleep over. I also really miss having people around me that I know well enough to say something like “will you do my laundry?”

Anyway – the result was that the nurse decided to give me a break. She said to take 2 hours and do whatever. Knowing we were committed to the weekend in the hospital, I went to the craft store to get more ways for Patrick to pass the time. You know when you’re trying to plan to keep kids entertained for a road trip? Or trying to keep kids entertained when they are home sick from school? Imagine that magnified by a 2 week hospital stay… every other week.. for 3 months. Patrick has toys. But he is so stir crazy that getting him play with them is a struggle. Crafts are a better bet because they are continually new. And so I’ve built in a craft budget.

I felt better after some time to myself. I even picked up french fries and McDonalds and we had a nice lunch. That evening, a friend from church came and sat with him for one more hour, giving me a chance to go back to the house and clean up some of the messes we left behind there.

And then Saturday night, one of the nicer, bigger rooms became available and Patrick’s nurse came and asked if we wanted to move.

This has made such a huge difference! Honestly, I hadn’t realized how cramped we have felt. Not just in the hospital room… I knew we felt crowded there.. But also at the Ronald McDonald House.

I’ve been asked to describe the living accommodations there. Basically, we have a room that’s a lot like a hotel room. We have two twin beds and a double bed, some big dressers, a closet that is stacked floor to ceiling with medical supplies and luggage. We also have 6 totes along one wall filled with toys for Patrick, mommy school supplies, and other odds and ends. It is a nice room, but cramped when 3 people are in it.

The rest of the house is pretty spacious. They have a triple kitchen that we share. (Triple meaning 3 sinks, stoves, and dishwashers.) Everyone is allotted a shelf in a fridge and a small locker style cabinet to store food in. Because of Patrick’s allergies and not being able to eat food brought in by dinner groups, we actually have two. There is also a wall of bar-sized fridges to keep medical supplies in in this pantry area. The kitchen is very nice with just about any kind of appliance you can imagine, though the pans and knives and other basic supplies are pretty well used and worn out.  Especially since they all have to go through the dishwasher after very use. Not the best thing for non-stick and knives. The dining room is filled with banquet sized tables. There is a sunroom off of the dining room with a TV and smaller tables. There is a large family room and toy room downstairs, a computer room upstairs, and a smaller sitting room at one end of the hall with a table where we do Patrick’s school and church.

There is also a wing of offices for house staff. Patrick is a people person, so we have to limit time in the common areas of the house because when I turn my back, he sneaks away into the offices to play with his favorite staff members. I don’t mind him visiting, but he would spend all day there if he could. House rules say that children must be supervised by parents. They sometimes bend this rule and let him visit or help them clean while I am cooking or making his formula, but mostly he is supposed to be with me. So I spend a lot of time stopping what I’m doing and going back and finding Patrick and bringing him back.

So, strange as it sounds, this big room with two TV’s and lots of floor space and few places to wander actually feels like a nice break. Especially since the nurses and other staff are taking care of all the responsibilities that usually have to divide my attention. (Formula, cleaning up, making food.) Turning the superbowl on one TV while Curious George played on the other TV and eating snacks and doing crafts yesterday evening was really very nice.

I wish I could say we were making better ground. Saturday morning, they turned up Patrick’s feeds back to the rate that had made him sick during the night. In daytime hours, he did ok with this. He even felt well enough to each a couple of pretty decent sized meals. And his diapers all looked good. But when night came, his belly started to churn again. He laid awake with a belly ache. I got up and changed diaper after diaper. The diarrhea was back pretty full force. And I was worried that something new was brewing or that the virus had done some irreparable harm. (Hence the Facebook post asking for prayers, in case I worried any of you.)

When the doctors came for rounds, they said that they didn’t love seeing him stool so much, but that his labs were stable so we are still getting him enough hydration and nutrition so far. So, they didn’t got up that last 10 cc’s that he needs to not be on IV fluids.. but they didn’t turn things down either.

They said that this is just his weakened immune system still fighting the virus. Pay attention to this: the virus Patrick has is a common stomach flu. It lasts 24-48 hours in most people, but is contagious for up to a week after symptoms. I was sick for 36 hours. It’s been a week and a half and Patrick still has at least 2-3 more days of hospitalization ahead of him.. and that isn’t getting him back to where he was before he got sick. That is just getting him healthy enough to not need to be in the hospital.

We are extremely careful about germs in our family anyway.. but will be even more so when we get home. And yes, we will ask you to stay away if you are or have been sick. And we will ask you to wash your hands over and over again.

Anyway – this post is quite long. Long story short.. Patrick’s belly is still getting sicker at night than in the day, but he did a little better last night. Odds are good they will try to turn up his feeds one more time today. Odds are good this will make his belly sick again for another couple of days. At least. They tell me this can take transplant patients down for weeks or even months.

We are ok. Honestly, I’d prefer to be at the hospital right now instead of the Ronald McDonald House. Yes, it is exhausting to try to keep myself fed and dressed. But, it’s nice to have the help while Patrick’s belly is so unsettled. It’s kind of nice to be a little alone. And it’s Monday. Which means there will be more help here today. The ward brings food on weekends and comes and gives me breaks as they can. Nurses and volunteers and child life do their best to get me breaks, too. (If I just stop being tough and ask.) So I can just take care of Patrick and me.

Oh – one other thing… I got to see a real Nebraska snowstorm. Church was cancelled yesterday. Schools are closed today. I hear the roads are pretty slick. Curious to go compare this to what I’m used to in Utah. I’m learning things are colder and wetter here.. which usually means more ice. And their roads are so much narrower that I kind of get why things shut down for weather here.

So I’ve been pretending that we’re all snuggled into a warm cozy room for a winter day here. Put aside the reason we’re here, and it’s not too bad.

 

Transplant Day 91 and feeling cooped up

Patrick woke up while I was taking Brian to the airport and so the nurse let him come to the door of his room to play so he wouldn't feel alone
Patrick woke up while I was taking Brian to the airport and so the nurse let him come to the door of his room to play so he wouldn’t feel alone

I’ve written before about how crazed Patrick gets when he’s stir crazy and feeling healthy in the hospital. Stir crazy and tired and steroids make this even harder. It’s cold and flu season and the hospital is quite full and we ended up being admitted in the last room they had the day we arrived and most of my past couple of days have been spent trying to help a feeling-better Patrick not explode from being cooped up.

This takes many forms. Sometimes is TV marathons. For the first time in Patrick’s life, I know the PBS and Disney Channel TV schedules. Just because that gives us some variety from the DVD’s that we have all memorized by now.

A couple of days ago, it was a trip to Walmart’s clearance shelves. I stumbled into a school supplies clearance sale that got me glitter glue and stamps and dry erase markers and a bingo dauber and a clipboard with storage. All of that adds up to some of Patrick’s favorite ways to play.

Yesterday morning, it looked like an exercise and dance party in the room. I turned on some mp3’s of songs that Patrick and I used in mommy and me exercise class and made him work his little body until he was really tired and insisted on sitting down. Favorite quote from the music therapist, “I’ve never seen anyone learning to samba in their room.” Yup, I even was teaching Patrick Brazilian street samba that I learned from the portuguese foriegn language immersion house college.

Thank goodness this hasn’t relied just on me. We’ve had lots of volunteers who have pushed through when Patrick was too tired to think or play. We have visits from music therapy and feeding and occupational therapy. We have nurses who give him extra time when they can. And up till yesterday, we had daddy.

I was very grateful for the volunteers in that regard. It is hard to have had my husband and best friend here but barely spend any time with him because we were stuck in a hospital room. Volunteers appeared at just the right time for me to a carry out dinner hosted by the Hilton at the RMH. (Which is always fancy and amazing). It was almost like a date. And yesterday, another gave us the chance to go have lunch together. It was 60 degrees and we snuck out to he patio.

Yesterday, we wore Patrick out thoroughly and then put him down for a nap. Then, I drove Brian back to the airport. At least I got to see him off this week. And he’s got a lot to do at home because still none of these setbacks have anything to do with complications of transplant and so the idea of coming back home looms closer and closer.

I’ve learned two things about that subject lately. I used to imagine that when they said recovery here for a year that it meant that there would be a set of goals that needed met. Well, it turns out Patrick is meeting those goals with flying colors. If he’d had some rejection or needed more hospital recovery time at first, that would have kept us here earlier. But really, it’s the little things that keep you here. A virus you catch. An unexplained swing in medication. A suspicion of rejection. Otherwise, you hit your diet goals and gain weight and you go.

But that doesn’t mean you stay home, either. There are 3 other transplant families living long term at the Ronald McDonald House. One is newly transplanted and has been being told since Christmas that they’d go home next week. But a little thing goes wrong and they add one more week. Week after week. Another has been home a few times, but their son will have problems crop up that bring them back and they have been back and forth for 2 years. And the last went home quickly with no problems and lived wonderfully with their graft for years, only needing an annual checkup.. But a year ago, she fell and it damaged her graft. She eventually lost it and just lost her 3rd transplant.

So, see, anything can happen. We could be home soon and stay, or think we’re coming home but not make it for a while, or we could be back and forth. What I do know is that we will be back here.

Anyway – medical update. Still no one has told me formal biopsy results. But when we asked about them yesterday, the response was “You haven’t heard? I’m pretty sure it was no rejection.” So I guess that is that. His belly seems back to normal and yesterday we pushed for them to advance feeds faster. They are going up 10 cc’s every 8 hours and so far, it seems he is doing great with it. Plus, he’s back to eating again. And amazing me by chewing and swallowing more and more foods. We hope that he’ll reach full feeds and be able to go to the Ronald McDonald house by the weekend. He’ll do another week of ulcer medication. (They tried to let me off the hook on this and I pushed to say that I really don’t mind giving it.) And we’re switching from ranitidine to a PPI (prevacid) which took some negotiation to get covered by insurance, but I think we finally got it.

They say Patrick isn’t contagious anymore, but hospital policy still requires he stay on precautions till he goes.

This gives us more confidence taking him back to the Ronald McDonald House. This go-around of being sick there has been awkward. To say the least. One of the other transplant patients also caught the virus, then his mom did.. and so there was panic about an outbreak in the house. I hear that others were sick, but only those of us with immune suppressed kids spoke out about it. (Because we know that hiding you’re sick just gets more people sick.) Unfortunately, that means that there were a few families who are newer at this who really panicked about the risk of catching it and, because norovirus isn’t airborne so handwashing was the only precaution the team advised, decided that we weren’t being careful and were the reason others had caught the illness. It meant some very awkward conversations and angry stares and other really uncomfortable treatment that made us feel like we were lepers living in society when, in fact, we were being so much MORE careful than circumstances required.

It is going to be hard to go back. I have some wounded pride I need to work through. I’d better work on it, too, because this isn’t going to be the last time we have some conflicts about illness and immune suppression. Hopefully, I’ve learned a little bit of empathy. Or at least, I hope this has taught me a little more tact. I am going to be on the protective side more often and know I’ve accidentally been offensive myself.

And really, there is some comfort for us in having made it through an illness here before going home. To know what illness and immune suppression is like, at least to some degree.

Oh – meanwhile.. Patrick seems to have gone through a growth spurt. His diapers don’t fit him the same way anymore. (problem is they don’t stock pull-ups for the inbetween between pediatric and adult diapers.) And when I hold him on my lap, he feels HUGE.

Transplant day 86 and Sick, sick, sick

Well, I think it would be safe to say that the past 48 hours have been among the hardest we have been through. Friday, Patrick seemed to be feeling better. Well, except that he still had very frequent, black diarrhea (sorry, remember, blogging about intestines here, remember.) The team explained that bleeding in the GI tract wasn’t unexpected in an immune suppressed patient wasn’t entirely unexpected for an immune suppressed patient with Norwalk, a.k.a. norovirus.

Otherwise, Patrick was happy and playing all day. However, as the day went on, I started to feel worse and worse. I made a bit mistake by eating a great big, yummy burrito for dinner. About half an hour later my body told me that, yup, that tender tummy feeling meant that I had caught what Patrick has. Not a big surprise, given just how often Patrick had gotten sick while I was holding him the day before.

Well, my sweet husband saw that I was looking worse and worse and, even though he was also starting to realize he was sick, sent me back to the Ronald McDonald house for the night. Good thing, too.. I am sure I wouldn’t have been able to take care of Patrick at all that night. I was SO sick! But, on the way home, I stopped at the store and picked up medicines and gatorade and I spent the night trying to pull myself together enough to be mommy again in the morning.

And, amazingly, by morning even though I felt very weak, I was doing well enough to go back.

It sounds like Brian and Patrick had a pretty rough night.. changing diapers every couple of hours. When I came in, Patrick was laying on the couch and looking quite pale, but happy. I sat down next to him and asked him how he felt. He said he was ok, but I’d check again every few minutes. Then his nurse gave him his morning medications. I asked how he felt, Patrick said, “sick!” and then started throwing up blood.

We put his g-tube to drain so he wouldn’t throw up anymore.. but that kind of seemed to be the kick off for a rough day. Not long afterwards, he started to act as though his belly hurt. That got worse and worse throughout the day. (We think it was stomach cramps and maybe gas.) But at its worst moment, Patrick was screaming in pain, curled up in a ball, and not willing to be touched.

Finally, they got some pain medicine to stay down and he fell asleep, which made a difference.

Because of the bleeding, they decided to give him a transfusion. Those run over several hours and we let him rest while it was running. His color started to come back. For most of the day, Brian and I took turns laying in bed with him holding his hand and helping place stethescopes and thermometers so he trusted they wouldn’t hurt him. (This was a good way for sick mommy and daddy to rest, too.)

Meanwhile, we sipped gatorade and slowly started to eat again.

Then, once the transfusion was done, we made him get out of bed to be weighed. I hate doing this: making him get up and move when he’s in pain. He just clings to my neck and begs me not to hurt him. But moving helped his body reset a bit and over the next couple of hours, his pain started to improve.

By evening, Brian told Patrick we needed him to get up and walk again. We got him out of bed and he sat on the couch playing with toys until almost 10.

And last night, he slept peacefully all night. That was amazing. We ALL needed the rest.

I am feeling 80% better this morning. Patrick’s pain seems to be gone, though he is really guarded.

The plan discussed with the team yesterday was to take him down for an endoscopy today if the bleeding hadn’t stopped. Patrick’s diarrhea has slowed. But his g-tube has been to downdrain and there is still blood there and in his occasional diaper, so I’m assuming that is still going to happen. I know he was put on the schedule yesterday because someone from anesthesiology already came to talk to us.

I am trying to find the right way to break this news to Patrick. I’m sure he’s terrified of anesthesia here because it has always ended in surgery. Not sure I can explain to convince him otherwise.

But I hope we can find some answers that will help him finish getting better. We knew taking down Patrick ostomy meant more endoscopies and so this is going to be a part of his new routine.

I hope that all of us being sick together in the hospital doesn’t become routine. Sure, it’s nice that we can pick up a phone and order food and the nurses really have been kind to all of us. And, since he’s in isolation, we at least aren’t putting anyone else at risk visiting here. (In fact, it’s probably better than hanging out at the Ronald McDonald House). BUT I don’t want this to be the precedent for the new normal in illness after immune suppression.

We know illness is going to hit him hard every time and be hard to shake. But hopefully the next one doesn’t take down the whole family. Right now, we really hate Norwalk.

Transplant Day 72 and Discharge Again

I just tucked Patrick into his bed at the Ronald McDonald House. Tonight, at least for part of the night, I will sleep in a bed by myself. The spot on my arm where Patrick likes to snuggle all night that is beginning to be deeply bruised is very grateful for this development.

It’s been a busy couple of days. Yesterday, I got up early and started begging often for them to find a volunteer to come sit with Patrick so I could fix the battery problem with my car. It took till afternoon, though, to find someone. So I was a nervous wreck all morning.

Finally, I explained to Patrick why I was acting frustrated and suggested maybe I should pray to calm down. Well, the next thing I knew, Patrick folded his arms, bowed his head, and said a little prayer that a “vodateer” (volunteer) would come so I could fix my battery. Not 10 minutes later, one walked in.

So then I made a mad rush to get it done. I called my insurance policy’s roadside assistance. (Thanks to my mom for pointing out that I might have that service on my policy.) They sent “Rescue Rangers” to come give me a jump start. Because I was in a parking garage, the guy showed up in just a regular sedan. (Tow trucks don’t fit in this garage.) And when he hopped out with a jump starter, I was pretty doubtful. But his was better than mine and the car started right away.

I drove to AutoZone and told them I thought my battery needed replacing. He grabbed his tester, but one look at the battery told him that it was gone. (I kind of knew that.) So he sold me a new one, then installed it, cleaned up all the corrosion, oiled my screws, and checked my other fluids. I expected the help putting in the battery, but not to that level.

With the car now happily starting despite frigid temperatures, I drove back to the Ronald McDonald House to get Patrick’s feeding pump so he’d be ready for discharge.

He had a pretty good night, as far as hospital nights go. And this morning, we slept in and laid around in bed being lazy. But eventually they came to clean his room and check his vitals and look him over.

Rounds were a little bit late. That actually helped a bit because it made the rest of the day seem to go faster. They confirmed our plan from yesterday that he could leave the hospital today.

A couple of hours later, they had a problem with Patrick’s feeding bag and I suggested that we just switch to his home pump. From that point forward, I couldn’t get him to stop running and running away. He was so happy to be free. (And feeling so much better.)

While they worked on getting orders, Patrick and I went for walks, ate soup, played in the playroom. It got late enough in the day that I called Patrick’s school teacher to tell him we wouldn’t make it back to the Ronald McDonald House and ask him to come to the hospital instead. And just as we were wrapping up with school, they came to say they were ready for discharge.

We left the hospital about 3:30 and stopped at Jimmy John’s so we’d have some food for dinner. (Patrick loves Jimmy John’s bread and with his new appetite, happily dipped and entire 2 foot long day old loaf in bread and sucked the broth out of it.)

Getting settled here again was more work than I wanted. It takes time to unpack, do laundry, put away a month of medical supplies, etc. But eventually, I got it all done and we wandered downstairs for a late dinner. Patrick is so happy to get to walk away from me a bit and to visit with his friends here. That felt really REALLY nice.

The new formula is easier to make, which I’m especially happy about. Doing meds again was much more second nature. And we even managed to change the dressing on Patrick’s incision with minimal fuss. I got him into bed by 10 and asleep before 10:30.

I’ll admit, it was kind of sad to come back here. When we were here last, we were still in that post-Christmas happy state. Brian was here. It was lonely coming back and knowing we need to put away Christmas is kind of hard. I’d leave it up, but really this room is tiny and with all the new toys, I need to get the Christmas decorations out of here.

Here are some pictures from this hospital stay. I wasn’t really great about uploading them so they cover a few days.

Transplant Day 70 and real-life angels

God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs. – Spencer W. Kimball

Brian flew home Monday. I was kind of worried how this would play out as the last time he left while Patrick was still inpatient, I found myself feeling in well over my head trying to juggle caring for Patrick and trying to piece together little things for myself like food and clothing and bathing.

However, instead, I’ve found the last couple of days almost relaxing. An important lesson I’m learning here is to let people help me with little things so I can be free for the bigger things. For example, Monday morning a hospital volunteer knocked on the door just as I finished dressing Patrick to ask if I needed a break.  So, she came in and played with Patrick while I took a shower, did my makeup (a rare luxury), made the bed, and cleaned up the room.

This week has been full of volunteer angels. From church, I find women I barely know (have met a few times or not at all) providing meals or coming and sitting with Patrick so that I can go back to the Ronald McDonald House to eat or shower or do other things. There is an after-holiday lull in charitable donations and so fewer meals are offered at the beginning of January than throughout the rest of the year. So, one evening while a lady from the Relief Society (church women’s organization) was introducing Patrick to the joys of a fart machine, I hurried back and made up a week’s worth of taco meat so I’d be ready for days I either couldn’t get away or nights where dinner wouldn’t be waiting.

This has been a blessing I can’t put into words. I am not unhappy that in our first month here, we ate such carefully portioned meals, a-la Hormel no refrigeration required microwave dinners, that I lost several pounds. But sometimes it was hard to be patient with Patrick and happy with this 24/7 mom/caregiver role I’m living because I was hungry. But right now, I am anything but hungry. I have to think to not end up being fed dinner twice. I haven’t even touched the supply of meals I bought right before Brian left because there has always been another one there someone has made for me.

But beyond food, this has given me the chance to keep up on laundry (with a little bit of help from a friend willing to fold and slip into my room my clothes if I can just get them to the dryer) and to stay showered and in fresh clothes (which I find goes a VERY long way to my general sense of well-being), and sane. I get an hour or two here and there and in it I try to be as productive as possible. I probably look like a mad-woman flying through the Ronald McDonald House when I go there.

Patrick is happier with this help, too. Someone appears offering help and he shoos me away to “the House’ so he can play. Patrick needs people. He loves when someone comes and he has someone new to play with.  He really loves the volunteers who come help Child Life with activities. We had an awesome time the other day flying airplanes with the ROTC. Right now, Patrick is one of just a handful of kids old enough to play with, so they are especially excited to see him, too.

It helps so much to have people. Tonight, I got a call from a woman from church who is quickly growing on me, saying that she had some time and could she come play with Patrick so I can get out. I almost felt like I was taking advantage because I’ve been so well taken care of, but I’ve sworn to myself to accept help when offered. So she came and I almost didn’t even leave because it’s -3 with a wind chill of some other horrid number and everything is closed here as a result. But I remembered that Patrick’s been running a touch low on diaper cream and I had one more jar of his preferred kind at the house, so I went to go.

But, when I got to my car, it just wouldn’t start. I’d turn the key and it sounded almost like it was sighing. I had a jump starter in the trunk, but even that didn’t help. It just showed me my battery’s power dropping from 60% to 40% to unreadable.

So I came back in and I bought diaper cream at the outpatient pharmacy instead. Then I called Brian and I called my dad to assess the symptoms. And then i came back to the room feeling a bit beyond alone and helpless. Only I wasn’t alone. There was this sweet angel from the ward making playdough P’s with Patrick on the floor. And she listened to me talk through my problem and she offered all the help she could think of. And then she just talked for a while which is something I am REALLY missing here… talking to grownups and especially friends of my own faith.

And things felt lighter going to bed. In fact, Patrick and I stayed awake and giggled and talked for a while. Sometimes, he and I get playing a little more like it’s a sleepover. And last night he told me that when he grows up he wants to be a firefighter and put water on things. And that when I grow up I want to be a doctor… not like the ones in the hospital, but like the toy one in his Duplo block set that he got yesterday.

Which reminds me of another super nice thing that strangers did for us. Right before Brian left town, he discovered a couple of Christmas presents hidden under the bed that we’d overlooked on Christmas morning. Well, they couldn’t have been more perfectly planned if we’d done it on purpose.

When we got married in December, I was really sad that the wedding and honeymoon took up most of the Christmas season for us. So we decided to extend our family’s Christmas holiday like they do in Europe. There, the 12 days of Christmas actually start on Christmas day and are counted forward until January 6th, also known as Epiphany. Or, in Italy where Brian was a missionary, it’s called Befana.

So, we have celebrated Befana. We leave out our shoes and a good witch fills them with little gifts. After Patrick went to sleep Monday night, I snuck down to the C store and picked up some treats for my shoes, then I put the newly found presents and some chips and a book into Patrick’s. And when he woke in the morning, we had our own little holiday. And he got a couple of fleece sweaters that have been perfect for these bitter cold days. And he got some duplo blocks that have proven to be great entertainment, too.

General Patrick update.. Tonight, they turned off his TPN again, hanging some IV fluids to keep him hydrated. He will reach full enteral (through the belly) feeds on Elecare Jr. tomorrow late afternoon. They will check some labwork in the morning and we’ll start talking about discharge again. (Which means that I will also be making some phone calls in the morning to see if my insurance’s emergency roadside service can help me fix the battery issue so we have a way to leave here.)

Patrick feels great. I’ve learned to change the dressing on his surgical incision and will need to still do that for a few weeks. He is not a big fan of the job, but has gotten so he doesn’t cry the whole time.

We spend our days mostly playing. Today, they got the playroom ready for patients to play in. It is still missing locks on the toy cabinets, so you have to have help and permission to play there and have to keep the door closed while there. But that just meant that Patrick had to have 3 hours straight playing there instead today. And the room all to himself.

While he played, I downloaded more of his homeschool materials and the hospital teacher helped me print some readers. A “cold day” made it so Patrick missed his post-holiday return to school this week.. again. He’s only had 4 actual “school days” since we got here. I just learned a couple of the ladies from church homeschool and I am getting ready to pounce and pick their brains to figure out how to make my mommy school efforts even better.

We’ve been working on just one more goal here. A few days ago, Patrick was complaining that his left leg and ankle hurt. This isn’t the first he’s complained of it, so I asked for a physical therapy consult. She came seeming ready to assure me my concerns were over something normal that would pass. She watched him walk and stand on tiptoes and squat. And as we worked, she shifted from telling me that his hip looked weak but would get better to a genuine concern about what she was seeing. This is somehow maybe related to his cerebral palsy and we don’t know if it’s really a new problem or just one made worse by recovery.

She gave me some exercises to try to get Patrick to do.. lifting his legs to the side and walking on his heels. Because of his dyspraxia (motor planning troubles), this seems really, really hard for him as he’s never tried to move that way before. At first, he just wouldn’t. But I’ve figured out that I can turn it into a game of silly walking mother-may-I or a “can you do this?” challenge and he’ll play along.

Nevertheless, my plan of doing occupational and feeding therapy only with my limited visits while he’s outpatient is kind of disintegrating. If this problem doesn’t go away before we leave here, we’ll need to do some follow-up therapy. And I really need to find the number and call and get that scheduled.

I think Patrick feels more in control of himself here at the hospital. Maybe because the rules and routine are more predictable. Maybe because he’s spent more time here. Maybe just because his medication levels have been steady while he is here. Maybe because it’s not Christmas anymore. Maybe it’s because he can order ham and chicken broth for every meal. Or because my attention is less divided and all of the ways he acts out are him trying to have my undivided attention. I don’t know for sure, but I’ve also been using the extra time I have with helpers here trying to pull together some picture schedule and behavior reminder resources so going back to the Ronald McDonald House can maybe feel less chaotic.

Regardless, I can see that our time here is special and important. And I am beyond grateful for the helpers who have let me use this time well instead of just trying to survive each day.

 

Transplant Day 46 and Physical Therapy

IMG_20141215_154535

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 3rd 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.

Transplant Day 41 and Home Away from Home

Ok – lest there begin to be rioting in the streets, I am grabbing a moment with Patrick finally sleeping. I can’t get my laptop to work inside my room at the Ronald McDonald House and my brilliant husband isn’t here to fix it.. So the only way I can get both internet and a keyboard is to sit in the kitchen.

So – here I am. What can I tell you about the past few days?

Monday morning, Patrick was looking and feeling great. The labs confirmed that Patrick’s medication levels were in the safe range. That meant that it was ok for him to be discharged from the hospital. I’d forgotten what a big feat that is when you are setting up all new home care. All day long I cleaned and packed and then tried to throw in playing and resting time with Patrick. He was excited so he couldn’t fall asleep to nap, but as the day wore on that meant that he was more and more tired, and therefore more and more excited.

The insurance company seemed to throw a kink in things right at the end, saying that Patrick’s formula couldn’t be covered through the home health agency and needed to go through a pharmacy instead. I had some worried conversation and made several phone calls and then finally decided to call directly. It turned out to not be the a problem at all, just needed to be preauthorized. But it created a fair amount of worry for a few hours.

Otherwise, though, we just sat and twiddled our thumbs until late afternoon when the pharmacists and case managers and everyone started to finally come in. I ran to the pharmacy to pick up one last prescription. It sounded easy, but took several phone calls and two trips to the pharmacy to sort it out.

Thanks to that, we ended up not leaving until 6 p.m. By then, Patrick was beyond tired and I was frazzled. We arrived at the Ronald McDonald House right before dinner time. Patrick was really scared about moving out of the hospital. He kept asking me who the nurse was going to be and if we could go back.

We had a mountain of medical supplies arrive as we did that needed to be put away. It took all of Tuesday to get things out of boxes and into shelves and drawers and otherwise in a state where I could work with them. Especially because Patrick was following behind me trying to explore and help as i worked. The room looked like a tornado hit it. I had two huge piles of laundry.  And medical supplies just overflowing.

The medications were especially intimidating to me, when it was time to start giving them I started to really wonder if I’d been paying good enough attention. But we made it through and Patrick slept for the entire night in his bed by himself. It was amazing.

The next morning, we woke early and hurried to get ready so we could get ready to meet the home nurse. We’ll be doing daily lab draws for a while to check his medication levels. They also required that someone come and watch me mix Patrick’s first batch of formula. I guess they have problems with someone mismeasuring.

However, it was nice to have the second set of eyes on the problem as it turned out that Patrick’s formula required 2 liters of water, plus nearly 3 cups of powdered formula and I ended up pouring from one pitcher to another to make the full batch.

After that, the priority of the day was moving day. We went grocery shopping and to get some things from Walmart (including a bigger pitcher). Patrick was so tired after just half an hour shopping that he was hugging me and begging me to go. But it was good to know that we had food choices in the house for him. With his allergies, he needs to have his own food.

We came back to the room and got Patrick as much of a nap as possible, but after about an hour my phone started to ring with different people checking in to see how Patrick’s first day was going. That woke him and then we were up and running again.

Patrick’s medical care is a pretty strict schedule right now.

At 7, I give him an anti-nausea medicine through his g-tube while he sleeps. We get up around 7:30 to get ready for the day. We cover his line and his ostomy to get him into the bath. Then get dressed and draw up the morning medicines. (At least the ones that are in the room.) I open 6-9 different pills and dump the powder out and mix it with water for one medication. Another 2 have to be kept in the fridge downstairs. Then I pack up the materials needed to draw labs off of Patrick’s line.

The nurse arrives at 8:30 and takes a set of vitals and draws labs. Then at 9 we give medications.

His formula has to be mixed once a day. I’m only supposed to put 4 hours’ worth in the bag at a time so we have to refill and reprogram regularly, including during the night (unless I can talk them into a bigger bag with ice with it with next month’s order.)

Dinner is at 6:30 and Patrick loves and can’t focus at all during dinner. He is all over the place when we are out in the house.

His prograf levels have been too high for the past couple of days. That means that he is struggling with insomnia. That is made worse by the fact that I can’t just lay down and sleep in his bed next to him if I’m going to be up doing medicines and refill feeds during the night.

Today, he was dead tired all day which made it really hard for him to focus on anything. We did get the laundry done. We tried to go play in the playroom, but timed it just as the volunteers who clean the toys arrived. So we went to our room and I decided to make him nap instead.

Today during nap, I figured out how to make the door stay quiet enough for me to sneak out and I was able to get out and eat lunch and move along laundry. And that made him rested enough to make it back to the hospital on time for a last-minute invite to go meet Santa.

Patrick was adorable with Santa. He thought he’d be there with his gift, but I explained we were meeting him to tell him what he wanted. So as soon as Santa came up, he told him his wishes.

Then, they gave him a gift. He tried to return it because it wasn’t what he was asking for.

It was hard to drag him away, but his teacher was coming for school today. That didn’t go great with him being tired.. But once we got past that, I was able to see a little more clearly how he was feeling. We finally ended up in the room letting him lay on the bed watching Blues Clues and that went a lot better.

And then tonight, we had a talk about the fact that I’d need to get out of his bed to take care of him but would be back. And, although it took an hour and a half to fall asleep, when he finally made it, he did so deeply and without tears.

And that’s how I’m here writing right now. I’m not doing a great job. I’m fairly distracted.. But at least you know a little bit how things are going. Patrick’s needing pretty constant supervision so even though it doesn’t seem I’m doing a lot as I describe my day, I’m working pretty constantly from the moment I woke up.

We’ll do better with time to establish a routine. And as they get Patrick’s prograf levels in range so he doesn’t feel so crazy.  I just keep telling myself, a new normal takes at least a month.. and more if it’s a big new normal.

Meanwhile, it’s nice to be where there are other moms kind of watching out for us and people cooking for us every evening. Even if it is easy to get stuck talking when I should maybe be doing other things.

Please forgive me for no pictures. I’m realizing now I left my phone in my room and can’t add pictures from it on the laptop. Maybe i’ll add a blog post just for pictures.

For now, though, I’ve got to go get back to the room before Patrick misses me.

Transplant Day 38 and Look Mom!

I

Patrick has been DYING to get his hands on this statue of Robert Frost since he first saw it. We also visited Thomas Jefferson and some other sculptures today.
Patrick has been DYING to get his hands on this statue of Robert Frost since he first saw it. We also visited Thomas Jefferson and some other sculptures today.

‘m blogging at 3:30 p.m. because I expect Patrick to sleep all afternoon. He had a pump alarm at 5:30 a.m. and the nursing staff tried to pull a “while you’re awake” rush at vitals and other care. The result was that he was wide awake, and since labs were due half an hour later.. well, he was up. But I wasn’t ready to be up, so I we talked and agreed to turn on Blues Clues so he wouldn’t wake up the neighbors and then I layed down and slept while he watched. I’ve decided that, given that insomnia is a well-known side effect of steroids, I need to just go with the flow when he can’t sleep and this is one solution that has worked.

The problem is that this worked almost too well. Patrick would wake me every 10-15 minutes or so and tell me something about his show. And I’d tell him I’d get up at the end of the episode.. then I’d fall asleep again. It was like I was a teenager with a snooze button again. I slept till 9.

But it worked for us today. When I got up we were productive. Bath. Dressed. Playtime. Meds. Cleaned up the room. Zofran worked so when he got up, he felt fine.

Rounds came early. The doctor heard Patrick’s number and looked at me and said, “Well, do you want to go out?” He was entirely sincere, I think. The resident, however, got this panicked look on his face and said, “The coordinators (transplant coordinators) said not on the weekend!” I knew that really they need tomorrow to pull things together the right way and kind of laughed it off. It’s good to hear that they are earnestly considering discharge, though.

We’ve had a good day so far. The morning kind of dragged. Hospitals are so quiet on Sundays. We did a little bit of primary (Sunday School). It didn’t go over as well today. Patrick’s body was saying “move” and so sitting talking wasn’t going over so well. Singing time was a little better. I bought a little app that plays the church songs with a bouncing ball over the words and I sing along. He mostly just watches me. But I did get him to try and repeat one of the Christmas songs. And we watched a couple of videos. Today we talked about the resurrection and Patrick hands down refuses to believe that Jesus died. He knows “He is just ok, mom!” So I tried to explain that He died and is alive again and we used some exam gloves to demonstrate the spirit in the body and not. But I think this concept is still beyond him, oh well.

Because Patrick was needing to be up and moving, we went to the playroom. I set up bowling. He took one throw, then grabbed a chair and told me bowling was better sitting down. Yeah, his body is saying move, but it’s also saying “Gee, I’m tired.” So we tried bowling from a chair and that didn’t work so well. So we tried just sitting on the floor rolling a ball back and forth which worked better, but wore him out pretty quickly, too. He got up to play with magnets and his feeding pump started to alarm because it had run dry.

He ran away so fast once he had a backpack on that I could barely catch a picture
He ran away so fast once he had a backpack on that I could barely catch a picture

Today, though, that was good news. I asked his nurse this morning how she’d feel about letting me use Patrick’s home pump for the afternoon. That way, I could practice with it, Patrick could get used to it.. and we could take advantage of how dead the hospital is on a Sunday.

No sooner had I put the pump in the bag than Patrick was asking for it on his back. And with it on, away he went! He just about ran out the door without me.

We went all over the hospital today. We went up to the NICU where the rooftop garden is. The garden doors were locked for the weekend. (BOO!)… But Patrick insisted on playing on the flight of stairs leading up to them. He long flight made him huff and puff, but he found a set of 4 steps that he declared were “easy peasy.” And, easy or not, he tried them a few times.

Then, we decided to walk over to other hospital building called Clarkson tower. Think walking from Primary Children’s to the University of Utah… only with the connecting corridor being about 2-3 times as long. We had to stop to take a few breaks. Thanks goodness for benches and Christmas trees along the way. But he made it… and at one point, he shouted, “Look, Mom! I’m runnin’!” And away he went down the hall until he couldn’t go any more.

We visited the chapel. We played in the guest pavilion. We found every Christmas tree we could muster. We passed the attending surgeon on the way and he gave Patrick a HUGE smile. (Bet that wins some discharge points.)

He claimed to really like this view. I think he really liked the window ledge to rest on.
He claimed to really like this view. I think he really liked the window ledge to rest on.

We washed our hands about a billion times. (Patrick is more than happy to wear a little portable hand sanitizer around his neck and wash his hands as well as the hands of anyone else standing near him.) We practiced pushing elevator buttons with wipes and with our elbows. We talked about what it’s safe to touch and what’s not safe to touch.

Learning to be immune suppressed is going to be a big stretch for Patrick. We’ve always said that Patrick was fragile, but needed an immune system and so we have exposed him to as much as possible before. Now, the opposite is true. Before, a cold would have taken him a while to recover from but he could fight it. Now, he might not be able to fight what for us is just a mild virus.

So hand washing and mask wearing and no touching and germ fearing and crowd dodging are going to be our norm. At least for the immediate future. The transplant team here has told us not to keep him in a bubble. But also to be careful. And right now we may be erring on the side of too careful… But this recovery has also gone too well and we don’t want to risk undoing that if not undoing it is even an option.

We came back to the room to take the sacrament. Patrick has really taken to the young men’s president who brings it. He just squeezed his way right into his arms today. And for the first time in weeks, he swallowed the bread.

Of course, he also has had 1/4 cup of chicken broth and a few bites of pasta today… all his own idea. There may be hope of eating yet. Especially once we get outpatient and the foods are safe and familiar. If I can just figure out how to teach him it’s ok to swallow now.

Anyway – I expect we’ll wrap this day up with a video chat with Daddy and the family at Sunday Dinner back home in Utah. We’ll make our Christmas advent ornament while we watch the annual Christmas Devotional, one of my favorite holiday traditions. And then bedtime might be a bit late because Patrick will have napped late. And if all of that holds true, this post will auto post at 9 p.m. tonight.  (If not, you’ll never even know I wrote this last two sentences.)

But for now, with Patrick napping so deeply, I might as well see if I can get a few things done just in case we do make it out of here tomorrow.

Transplant Day 37 and Saturday is a special day

IMG_20141206_192322

Well, despite the rough night last night, we have done our best to make today a better day. It still started out iffy. I woke up with a tremendous headache and a backache, too, because Patrick found the button that turns off the auto adjusting mattress. I thought this would be better because it wouldn’t keep sinking on my side every time I moved. However, without that extra inflation, sleeping pressed into the corner of the bed with Patrick on my arm just made my back hurt.

But, at 9 I managed to sneak out of the bed with him still asleep and take some pain medicine and have the morning conversations with the doctors and nurses without waking him for a little. I also got on Amazon and used our Prime account to order a few of the supplies that we desperately need for discharge that I just don’t see how I’m going to make it to a store to buy. (If you don’t know this about my faith.. we don’t shop on Sundays. Goes back to the 8th commandment where it says not to make your servants work on the Sabbath.) Sure hospitals are 24/7 and medical emergencies force my hand from time to time, but we try REALLY hard to stick by this principle and not many any more people work for us than necessary on Sundays. So shopping had to be done today or it won’t be done. But back to the story..

The team rounded early. That was nice because it meant I wasn’t stuck here. There were no changes in the plan. Just trying to get the right medication dose. Alas, at 4 p.m. we learned that the morning dose had been low still. That means that tomorrow and Monday’s levels have to both be in the target range because we need back to back good values before he’ll be ready to go.

I did get one thing right, though, in my advocating for his care. I asked the nurse to give him his zofran an hour before the time he usually wakes up. And, for the first time in 2 weeks, Patrick got up without being nauseous. That made a HUGE difference for how the day went. Getting him ready was so much easier because he felt good enough to sit up to get dressed and for his bath. I think that’s going to be a daily change for a while.

At 11, Patrick’s nurse managed to round up a volunteer for me. There may be only one who comes on Saturday, so this was a bit of a miracle. I hurried off to the Ronald McDonald house to try to address the very serious problem that I was out of clean clothes. I ran into another transplant mom I know there. She offered to help get my laundry dry and to my room which was a HUGE blessing. The washing machines at the RMH are slow and you just can’t really finish laundry in the 2 hour window a volunteer can stay.  So I got the clothes in the washer and then collected the day’s delivery of packages. (I wonder if they hate me, we have so much come mail order.)

Today’s shipment was an assortment of medical supplies and a set of small plastic food storage containers. The latter made me very happy as it made it much easier to raid the leftovers from last night’s dinner at the Ronald McDonald House and bring them here for lunch.

I even managed to get back to the room on time.

Patrick and I had a good afternoon. We had lunch and then attempted a nap. (But failed attempts at sleep can sometimes make sleep times for the next several attempts harder. He didn’t nap. And just now, bedtime was harder than usual.. though he did make it so sleep pretty quickly once I told him I was going to go blog so I wasn’t a distraction.)

We are running into some sure signs that Patrick is feeling like himself again. He doesn’t want to sleep away from home. It’s getting hard to get a good blood pressure reading because he won’t hold still. The room is cluttered with bits and pieces of his toys and crafts. I am spending most of my time just watching trying to keep him safe.

We did make it to play in the playroom a bit this afternoon. We ordered up dinner from room service. Patrick has been excited to try their roasted potatoes and did as good of a job tasting them as he ever does. I am hopeful we’ll make more progress once we get outpatient and I can cook for him.

Then, this evening I decided to double our evening walk. Last night as we walked to the cafeteria, we saw that they had put Christmas lights in one of the outdoor gardens. So today we walked down to that garden to see the lights. He only got tired and asked to be carried once. (Goodness is he heavy with these weak muscles!) He didn’t last long outside, but he made it all the way back after just a short break and was even kind of skipping/jumping along the way. I have good intentions to bat my eyes and see if I can’t get a nurse to let me “practice” with his portable feeding pump in a backpack tomorrow and see how far he can go if the pump battery doesn’t die and bring us back.) One nice thing about the hospital being dead on the weekends is that it doesn’t seem as dangerous to go play in the halls.

We read some books using the Readeo account his Uncle Mark bought him, and then put him to bed. Like I said, he tried to play and stay awake. This is also typical, feeling-himself Patrick behavior. But his little body needed rest and he was out within 5 minutes of me biting the bullet and saying I couldn’t lay with him because he was trying to play with me.

Transplant Day 33 and back to being a kid

You’re going to love this update.

Today has been a very good day. I got back to the hospital to find Patrick just waking up. One of Patrick’s primary nurses who loves him and really advocates well for him was back on today, so I knew things were headed in a good direction. We did our usual morning routine, including a bath that he didn’t want to do because he hates getting up and coughing till it makes him sick. But we got through it and then Daddy said it was time to go to the playroom.

At first, Patrick was just as fearful of walking. But we got into the playroom and he saw a toy he wanted and he couldn’t describe.. So he got himself up off the floor and walked over to his dad to get it. Yup.. We are 4 weeks post-transplant and his abdominal strength should be coming back. Apparently, the pain from Saturday’s surgery is getting better, too.

We stayed in the playroom for 2 hours. Part of that time, Brian went back to the room to pack. When finally I could tell he was getting bored by the number of toys strewn on the floor (where they aren’t supposed to be) I grabbed his wagon and suggested we go for a walk. From time to time Patrick gets a card with cash in it. This week, there was a book fair downstairs so I suggested we go pick out a book. He was really excited about this! When he saw the giant dry erase book, he was sold. Letting him pay with his own money for the first time was priceless.

Then, we came back up to the room and it was time to leave to get Brian to the airport. Patrick got to take his new book and go sit at the nurses’ station. They told me they were also taking him downstairs for craft time.

So, after saying goodbye for a few weeks to my husband and best friend (hard, no matter what) I decided I had time to do a little something for me. I’d heard that the casserole from last night’s dinner at the Ronald McDonald House was amazing and decided to go get some. (Yup. It lived up to the description.) Then, I went upstairs to our room and put a bedrail and mattress protectors on Patrick’s bed so it will be ready when he gets to go there. And I headed back to the hospital.

Well, I got there at 3:05 and found that Patrick was back upstairs in the playroom. And they had already gotten him a volunteer and promised him painting. I asked if he would like for me to stay and he said that, no, he’d like his friend to himself. So I came back to the room and did some things on my computer while he played for a couple more hours.

All told, Patrick got to decorate a Santa hat, make a bracelet, make a jingle bell shaker, paint some pictures, and just generally play with toys. Then he came back to the room and was ready for some myself time and spent another hour playing with playdough.

The ward (church) called a new compassionate service leader on Sunday. She called tonight to see if she could bring me pot pie. After having stuffed myself on chicken cheese stuffing casserole at lunch (thinking dinner would be light) I am going to bed with a super full tummy. Also, she is crazy super nice. She has only been in the ward a little over a year and got leukemia and had to have a bone marrow transplant right after.. so she knows this hospital and life being sick and being new in the area and the whole shebang. She made pot pie so I could have comfort food. Patrick loved her visit, too.

After dinner, I got him up and we went for another walk, and then climbed up into bed. We called grandma to video chat until I could see his eyelids dipping. Then the nurse came in, gave him his meds, and he went off to sleep.

Today Patrick is off oxygen and doing well enough we dared to take the cannula off of his nose. He is sleeping lying flat in his bed with both oxygen saturation and heart rate perfectly normal. This is a huge comfort for me as I consider trying to decide when it is safe for him to go outpatient. Breathing while I’m sleeping, check.

The other great news is that after needing to go back on TPN for a few days because of the problems with his stoma, they put him on full feeds and turned off the TPN tonight.

So, all-in-all not a bad day.