Category: Patrick

State Fair

After dinner tonight, we were trying to decide what to do with our evening. Then, Brian remembered that it was the opening day of the state fair.

If we’ve learned nothing from life with Patrick, it’s that you’ve got to take opportunities when you have them. So, even though it was already 7 pm on a weeknight, we decided that since we could go to the fair, we would.

Patrick loved it! First, we came across a pony ride. And, since we were seizing every opportunity, decided that Patrick should get to ride a horse. He was pretty nervous about it. It was halfway through the ride before he was willing to even put his hands down.

Then, we went on to see the other animals.  Right away, we came across a very friendly goat. He was standing up on the edge of his pen begging for attention. Once I realized how friendly he was, I let Patrick pet him, too. Patrick loved it! Not only did he pet the goat, but he actually gave him several “loves”.

Next, were the cows. Patrick’s eyes lit up when he heard them “moo.” Soon, he was saying “moo” too, delighted that he actually knew what sound they made.

The sheep were also friendly enough for Patrick to pet. Patrick was a lot braver right from the start. He’d touch the sheep’s nose and then turn with a big cheesy grin for Daddy to take a picture.

The pigs were exciting. We were in just the right place to watch them move one from its pen to be washed. Patrick was transfixed watching the farmers try to chase down and lather the pig.

By then, the sun had set so we left the animals to be greeted by a fully lit carnival. Again, Patrick could barely take his eyes off of the sight. He’s never seen anything like it and was just soaking it in.

Finally, we stopped and bought some freshly cooked doughnuts. Patrick couldn’t get enough of these. They were so soft and warm! The perfect treat on a cool evening.

Usually, Patrick would crash in the car after that much excitement, especially being up past bedtime. But tonight, he just couldn’t quit talking about it. Our ride home was filled with happy moo’s, neighs, baa’s and oinks from the back seat, mixed with giggles and excited gestures.

I think this may be one of the best family outings we’ve ever taken.

In the midst of miracles

This morning as I was laying in bed trying to convince my tired body to get out of bed to greet a happy 7 a.m. Patrick, I was contemplating on just how far my  munchkin has come. And all of a sudden I realized that I am living in the midst of miracles right now.

I am a VERY tired mother right now. By about 5 p.m. every day I just want to call it quits and go to bed because the work of taking care of a TPN-dependent, developmentally delayed toddler is exhausting! Patrick is a very active little boy right now. He’s on the brink of walking. He’s finally mastered the skills of carrying things from one room to another, of opening drawers and doors and emptying the contents found therein, and of putting things in places where I sometimes never find them again.

He’s bordering on two with the fully independent attitude that comes with that age – while simultaneously he’s finally getting the strength in his body to explore his world in ways he never has before. My good-natured patient boy has discovered tantrums. And he’s not afraid to use them to tell me when he doesn’t approve of me stopping some unintentionally self-destructive activity.

And, if the exploration weren’t dangerous enough, try attaching IV tubing to this strong-willed child! Even with a 10-foot extension, he manages to get himself wrapped in and around furniture. He knows no limits! If I leave a baby gate open for even a few minutes, you’ll find him at the top of the stairs grinning, waiting to run from me the second I come to catch him before he reaches the end of his line and gets yanked back down.

And this morning as I lay procrastinating getting out of bed I realized just what a miracle my total exhaustion is! This time last year, we’d just come home from the hospital. Patrick was thin and frail, not even able to roll over. Our current battles in physical therapy show that there should have been much more major consequences of his illness and arrest last summer. No one who hears his history ever expects to find normal looking boy smiling up at them.

But right now Patrick has been blessed with exactly what I’ve always wished for him… The strength of both body and spirit to not know boundaries. He may still be limited, but he doesn’t feel limited.

I take it for granted sometimes because they’ve been so common in our lives. But Patrick, Brian and I live in the midst of miracles each and every day. And we do so with full expectation that more miracles lie ahead.

“For behold, I am God; and I am a God of miracles; and I will show unto the world that I am the same yesterday, today and forever” 2 Nephi 27

Attempting a vacation… Line by line

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so I thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The repair held well and is still holding.

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

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

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

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

Therapy update

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

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

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

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

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

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

Relieving pressure

With Patrick, there are certain chain reactions you can count on. An infection will make Patrick’s spleen go into defensive mode and hold all the platelets that pass through it, kind of like people who hear a natural disaster is coming and run to the store and buy up all the food so that they’ll be prepared in case of emergency.

When the spleen sequesters (or hoards) platelets, Patrick becomes anemic. Without platelets in the blood, there’s a lot more fluid floating around in Patrick’s veins. The veins become “leaky” and the extra fluid goes and sits in any space it can find in the body.

Eventually Patrick becomes a little marshmellow baby that feels like he’s made of concrete because of all the extra fluid he’s carrying.

Last night, we added an element to this problem. When Patrick had enough fluid in his body, it became too heavy for his lungs to be able to move oxygen well and the oxygen saturation in his body dropped.

We discovered this problem as I finally got him to bed around 10 p.m. His nurse came in and put him on oxygen and then called the doctors. This started a better chain reaction for Patrick.

The extra oxygen was enough to finally mellow him out enough to sleep. Although he just kept getting puffier and puffier and needed more and more oxygen, he finally felt well enough to sleep. His kind nurse came in and held him which allowed me to get some much needed sleep.

The doctors prescribed a diuretic called Lasix that helps make it easier to shed extra fluid from the body. With just a half dose, Patrick started to to look and feel better. By his late afternoon nap, he almost looked like himself and I didn’t think my arms were going to fall off from the effort of picking him up. Better yet, his oxygen saturation improved enough that this evening they dared take off the tube that holds the oxygen on.

The best part of this chain reaction is that as Patrick is getting to feel better.. the infection clearing now that the line is out – and an end to the fluid overload problem have made it so he can finally rest. He actually was able to take naps today at their regular times, and fell asleep right about 9 p.m… not too far different from the home routine.

I’m really happy with how today went.. We just need to  make it the next couple of days without a central line and without running out of places for peripheral IV’s.

Just wanted to share that good news. There’s probably more to blog about, but I’m going to take advantage of the change to actually get some sleep tonight without having to call in reinforcements.

All too familiar

Here we are again. Back at Primary Children’s hospital – battling yeast yet again.

Sunday morning, Patrick developed a fever. It started low, but after a couple of hours, it was evident that he didn’t feel well. It seemed to both Brian and myself that he was trying to communicate with us that he wasn’t feeling well and needed help.

We’d made it through 2 hours of church, but decided it best to leave before Sacrament meeting was over. We got home, took his temperature – 101.4 – and he was starting to have chills. So we packed up and headed to the E.R. as quickly as possible.

Once we arrived, things were pretty much the usual drill.. they gave him some Motrin, took his history, drew blood cultures and started antibiotics and antifungals.

It didn’t take long for us to get into a room. But we started out right away with excitement. Before the nurse had even finished her initial assessment, Brian noticed hives forming next to Patrick’s ears. Within 5 minutes he was covered with hives from head to toe and his lips and eyes were starting to swell. They turned off the antifungal medicine and the reaction stopped and started to reverse. We think that they ran that medicine faster than his body’s used to and it caused the reaction, but it was a very scary moment to think that our preferred antifungal medication might suddenly have become off limits.

That night, Patrick was really, really sick. His fever reached over 104 degrees and he was sick to his stomach. We barely slept at all. The only rest he got was if he had both Tylenol and Motrin in his system. The problems continued through the next day and the antibiotics and antifungals didn’t seem to be making much difference until afternoon when his fever finally broke for the first time.. But his blood cultures stayed negative all day.

Around 8 p.m. a doctor came to visit us, though, and gave us results. Patrick has yeast in his bloodstream again.

The rest isn’t unexpected, but that doesn’t make it easier. Today’s been scary, stressful, and exhausting. Especially since Patrick is not cooperating with me about sleeping in his bed and neither one of us has had a good night’s sleep since we got here.

We talked to the doctors early and they confirmed that we needed to pull out his line. They also explained that Patrick’s spleen, yet again, is sequestering platelets and his blood counts are falling to dangerous levels. This means transfusions again with all the potential complications that come with that.

We spent the morning getting a little more settled in. Social work and child life came to visit. Child life talked about ways that we can help Patrick to be less afraid while he’s here. They brought him a baby doll with a little oxygen mask and blood pressure cuff to show him that they’re ok. He gave the doll lots of kisses and snuggles.. But took the blood pressure cuff off.. I think he was protecting it. They came along to all the following tests and surgery, too, to help minimize the trauma of these procedures. This was a new experience, but he seemed to enjoy it.

We went down to ultrasound around noon. They were looking for fungal balls in his organs. The poor radiology tech and radiologist were very confused trying to understand the anatomy they were seeing. I tried to explain that his gut looks funny and that his gall bladder is so small it’s almost invisible.. but they still were pretty sure his small intestine was his gall bladder. As we were leaving, the technician said “He looks so healthy, though”.. implying that on the insides he looks far from healthy.

When we got back from ultrasound Brian was waiting for us. He’d been given the afternoon off of work to come help. I was so grateful he was here!

We hurried and got ready for surgery. Just as we were about ready, the resident from the infectious disease team came to examine Patrick and take a history. Surgery showed up to take us down before he’d finished his exam. Patrick was jumping on the bed. I said to Brian “He’s just jumping because he knows he’s about to loose his foot”, referring to the fact that he’d come back from surgery with an IV in at least one foot. The guy from surgery looked up and said “Wait. What? Do I have the wrong kid?” We had a good laugh after that.

We went down to surgery with the child life specialist and infectious disease doctor in tow. After talking to the anesthesiologist, we sent Patrick on his way in a crib full of toys. Then we sat down to finish the history with infectious disease. Before we finished, Patrick’s surgeon came in.

Dr. Rollins, the surgeon, talked to us about what a dangerous situation we are in as Patrick is running out of more and more places to put lines. We’re aware of this, but hearing it vocalized by our surgeon made it all the more real.

Worse yet, he called from the OR as they were trying to place peripheral IV’s to tell us that they couldn’t get them in and to ask my permission to put in a “shallow central” line in his leg or neck. Apparently, they’d stuck him 8 times attempting to place a peripheral IV.

In the end, though, they got 2 peripheral IV’s in. Infectious disease didn’t like the idea of using a central line at all and asked them not to leave one in. So we find ourselves in a scary position now. Patrick needs IV’s for his nutrition and medication. He also needs to have labwork drawn to keep a close eye on his fragile health.. and we don’t know where else they can get needles in.

After talking to the surgeon, they let me go back to the recovery room where I found Patrick just by following his screams. He was hysterical and they told me that the anesthesiologist had prescribed me as his pain medicine. So I sat and rocked him and eventually got from screams to whimpers to sleeping.. But that was the situation for the next 5 hours or so. Patrick screamed bloody murder whenever anyone but me or Brian touched him. He was only content being held and rocked by one of us.

He just woke up about half an hour ago, though.. and for once seems back to himself. They gave him medicine for nausea and started his last transfusion of the day and it seems to have him finally feeling better. The best news is that he doesn’t have a fever.

Right now, he and his daddy and playing with toys in his crib. He’s not 100%, but doing ok for now.

Prayers for IV’s to last, for veins to be found when needed, and for Patrick to feel comfort in a very scary situation would be appreciated.

The attending from infectious disease explained that they don’t think this is the result of an untreated infection. The previous infection didn’t grow back. Instead they think these infections are coming from his gut.. and we don’t know how to stop that for now.

A lot is still up in the air. I’ll post more as I know it.

My little social butterfly

In Patrick’s last developmental evaluation by Early Intervention there were a lot of areas where his scores were low. His motor skills are several months behind. Obviously, anything to do with eating is delayed. However, there was one area where Patrick is far ahead. Social.

Here’s an example. We went to Texas Roadhouse for dinner. As usual on a Friday night, the place was packed. On the way in, Patrick spotted one of his favorite things in the world – a man with a bald head. I think he’s drawn to men who are balding because he loves his grandpas so much. Anyway, before I could dodge, he’d reached over and patted the man on his head.

The kind man turned with a smile and said “It’s ok. I’m a grandpa. I like kids.” In fact, he was holding a little boy who we learned was 11 months old.

Well, Patrick was just thrilled to have found a kind man to visit with. So much so, that he climbed right down off of my shoulders and into the man’s free arm. He held hands with the little boy for a bit, then pulled him in to snuggle a bit. It was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen! Before long, he’d wrapped their whole party of 10 or so completely around his little finger.

This is a pretty normal occurance for us. Patrick practically begs to be held by most any kind stranger he meets. He makes friends with every person behind us in line. And a “Hi” at the top of his lungs is an every day experience.

It’s so much fun having a friendly kid.

What we do when we’re not in the hospital

I’m almost afraid I’ll jinx us by writing this post. Patrick finished his course of antibiotics and antifungals a week ago. So far, so good. We’ve been settling into life at home in this break that the super anti-infection medications have given us.

Patrick seems to be on a mission to make up for all of the time and opportunity his illness have caused him. So, I’m doing all I can to support him and help him to be successful in doing this. Last fall, he couldn’t roll over. Now he’s crawling, climbing stairs, and cruising along furniture. Because he’s in such a focused, productive period of development right now, we’ve called in the troops to help him to accomplish his goals.

He’s got 5 therapists right now, making for a total of about 10 therapy visits a month. We’re working on speech, motor skills, feeding, and more. It seems that every time we meet with one of these experts, Patrick learns some new and amazing skill from the visit. After a little bit of reinforcement at home, he’s doing things that had previously seemed impossible, or at least a long, long way off.

Of course, a more active, mobile, and as one physical therapist describes him “impulsive” Patrick requires much more supervision. He breaks a little connector piece in his IV tubing a minimum of 3 times a week. And a backpack on wheels is not capable of following him up the stairs. We have many more bumps and bruises than we used to have. Patrick’s a big braver sometimes than his skills can allow for and I don’t think it would be a normal day without him falling and bonking his head on something. But, as tired as I am from chasing all the time, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Last week we made a change in his IV therapy. Once a day now, he gets a one hour “break” from his TPN. No tubes. No pumps. I just disconnect him, put up the baby gates, and let him go. He plays and plays and then we reconnect the IV’s and the combination of activity and change in blood sugar knock him out completely. The only problem with this plan is that he’s taken to napping as late as 7 p.m.

Being at home with an easier medication regimen (just 2 oral meds and two nutritional supplements given morning and night) has actually given us time to do other things like cooking or playing and working in the yard or  taking care of the amazing friends who’ve taken such good care of us. I’ve had time to really dive into plans for the upcoming benefit concert (which sound more and more amazing by the day!) One of these days, I’ll even catch up on the ironing. (This is a little bit thwarted by the fact that Patrick really likes to stand holding onto the ironing board.)

It’s so nice to go to bed at the end of the day exhausted from a day of work around the house and playing with my little boy. It’s been a treat to be at home with my family and friends nearby. Things are good right now and we feel very, very blessed. It can’t be this way forever. Until Patrick’s transplant, there will always be another hospitalization around the corner. But we are grateful for this little moment of peace.

“Pennies for Patrick” – Edison Elementary

For the past month, Edison Elementary in Salt Lake has been doing a fundraising drive called “Pennies for Patrick.”

Today, they asked for Patrick and his family to come and be interviewed for their morning school news. What a treat this visit was! We got to meet the 5th grade class who’s been spearheading the fundraising efforts. (Pictured above).

I was amazed at how much they knew about Patrick already. And at how well thought out their questions were. They wanted to know about his TPN. (They knew it by name). And why he needed his nutrition to go to his heart instead of his belly.

Two kids took us to the faculty lounge where they did an interview that couldn’t have lasted more than 2 minutes. It was so well rehearsed, though, and very professional. When we told the kids that Brian had gone to school here years ago, they were pretty excited. But when the camera’s rolled, it was all business.

All of the kids were so excited to meet Patrick! Brian’s mom is the secretary at this school so some kids put 2 and 2 together when they saw her with him. We started to hear “Is that Patrick?” whispered as soon as we entered the halls. Soon, kids were chasing us down the halls to be able to meet him.

My favorite quote of the day was from a little hispanic girl who said, “I thought he was all white. But he looks a little brown.” In school where the “minority” population is the majority, it was nice that Patrick, with his Korean features, fit right in.

The generosity and kind-heartedness of these children is amazing! For weeks, they’ve been sneaking in before school to put money into donation boxes. One teacher lifted theirs today and struggled under the weight.

I met a girl who put together a yard sale all by herself to collect money for Patrick. She came to school with a jar full of cash she collected. She told me today, “I knew a little girl who was 8-months-old who was sick and my church helped her. When I heard about Patrick, I wanted to help. I like helping babies. I want to be a doctor when I grow up.”

Pennies for Patrick was scheduled to end last week. The school voted to extend it till the end of this month, though, because they were having such a good time.

My heart was so touched. I wanted to cry, but couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as we talked with all of these children. Edison is not in a wealthy neighborhood. Many of these families don’t have much themselves. But they are so proud to be giving to help our son.

Thank you Edison Elementary!

Patrick’s anatomy

For some of our more curious readers, here is an image that can hopefully help you visualize what all the hoopla of “bowel obstruction” is about. The connection point between large and small intestine isn’t very visible because it’s so narrow, but the results of this narrowing is apparent in how much the small intestine has been stretched out as a result of the pressure. Kinda reminds me of those cartoons where there’s a kink in a garden hose that fills and fills until it looks like a big balloon.

In other news, we should find out in the morning whether or not we can go home tomorrow. The docs are a bit worried about making sure that we have a plan to feed Patrick without causing him to loose too many fluids so it’s hard to keep him hydrated. So we’ll see how he does for the night and they’ll make a decision in the morning.