Looks like we need another miracle after all

Patrick insisted I take this picture of him eating an applesauce cookie. So good to see him with an appetite again.
Patrick insisted I take this picture of him eating an applesauce cookie. So good to see him with an appetite again.

I truly feel like getting Patrick a line through his interior jugular vein into his azygus vein was a miracle. An absolute answer to prayer.

So I was more than a little confused with the phone call I received from Patrick’s transplant nurse coordinator yesterday. In the morning when we talked, she was quite pleased with the ingenuity of Patrick’s line placement and thrilled to hear he was doing well. We discussed infection prevention strategies and his position on the transplant list.

Then she called me back in the afternoon. She’d updated one of the transplant surgeons. And, as it turns out, in order to perform an intestinal transplant surgery, you have to have a central line in the superior vena cava. It can’t be in the azygus vein. The logistics don’t work.

They asked us to fly Patrick there next week to let their specialists see if they can solve the problem. Until it is resolved, Patrick has been put on hold on the transplant list.

At this point, other than knowing that the insurance company has approved the trip, that is all we know. We have about three dozen questions that we don’t know the answers to.

Despite the news, Patrick is doing great. Infection free and bacterial overgrowth at a minimum, he is feeling great. He ate at all three meals and had several snacks today, too. I swear he was eating once an hour. He’s napping well. He’s playing happily. He is very confused about why mommy is in a bad mood.

Mommy is doing her best not to be overcome by her tendency towards catastrophic thinking.

At least I have plenty of distractions. Hospital stay followed by a week of travel followed by another hospital stay is not the way to stay on top of your housework. And I’m nowhere near ready for Patrick to go back to school, even, or perhaps especially, if we might miss the first day next week.

We are hoping to get some answers soon.

Thank you for your prayers. I know they’re helping. If you don’t mind, we could really still use them for a little while.

Little Heroes

You’ve gotta see this story!

http://www.abc4.com/content/news/top_stories/story/Donor-transplant-brings-two-Utah-families-together/_A0j2PcCfEOkr4N_XWaMmw.cspx.

As you know, Patrick attends a weekly play and music group for children with a variety of health problems. One of my heroes from this group is a little girl named London, or as those who know her call her, Lulu.

Lulu had a liver transplant a year ago. When she first came to our play group, her mom immediately recognized Patrick’s TPN, having been on it herself when she was at her sickest. Lulu is one of the most vibrant, outgoing little girls that I’ve ever met. She and Patrick seemed to have an instant draw to each other.

One other thing they have in common is that Lulu’s family, like ours, is trying to raise awareness of the need for organ donors. Both of us have been active in working with Yes Utah, our local organ donation awareness organization, and in sharing our stories to help encourage people to sign up as donors.

Last night, Lulu’s story was featured on the evening news. A transcript of the story has been published here. (Just in case you didn’t click on the link at the top of this page.)

Please read it, and share it. And if you aren’t already registered, please consider registering as an organ donor.. and make sure your family knows of your desire to be an organ donor.

On another note, we never got a call yesterday inviting us to come up to X-ray, so that test will probably happen sometime next week. I’ll admit, I didn’t mind much. Patrick and I were both burned out from the previous two days and it was a rare treat to get to spend the day at home. Chris, his developmental specialist came to play. Patrick adores this man and LOVES their visits. Then his cousins stopped by for a short play time. And then, after dinner, we curled up on the beanbag movie and watched Cars.

I suppose that that’s only a partially true statement. Patrick was all over the room, but he returned regularly to cuddle with me or to tickle or to blow zrbbts on my tummy. This is the first time Patrick’s seen the movie Cars and, as I had predicted, he loved it. He’d return often to just sit with me and watch a scene or two. He got especially excited whenever Mater appeared on the screen.

And then, after Patrick was in bed, Brian finally made it home from Chicago. There is so much comfort just in having him here. And it was so nice to have extra hands when Patrick pulled his usual trick of picking his central line dressing off during the night so we had to change it first thing in the morning.

Today I’m proudly sporting a new Giordano’s t-shirt that Brian brought back for me. In case you don’t know, Giordano’s is the best Chicago-style pizza chain on the planet. And if I can’t have the food (Howie’s trying not to rub in the fact that he had Chicago-style pizza not just once, but twice this week), at least I can wear the schwag.

Patrick has a new blue car

I probably sound like a crazy person telling Patrick this several times a day. “Patrick has a new car. Patrick has a new blue car.”

I’m not just making conversation. Patrick is afraid of his new blue car. The day we took him on the test drive, he sobbed and sobbed. I think he thought we were giving him to the nice girl who sold it to us.

Unfortunately, the fear didn’t go away right away.

First, we took him on the test drive. Then, a few days later (when the banks were open), we went and picked it up. He started crying as soon as we got close to it.

He got a reprieve when daddy drove him home so I could take the car for inspection on the way home, and again when we took it to our mechanic for new tires and a checkup the next day. But when the car was done at the mechanic and he had to ride in grandma’s similar sedan so I’d be free to go to the DMV to get it licensed, he screamed bloody murder.

It took 15 minutes for Patrick to be willing to get in the car to drive home.

Things are getting better. He accepts the car so long as I don’t let go of his hand as we approach and don’t make him touch the inside of the car on the way to his carseat. But he will not sleep there. (So much for car rides to invoke naptime.)

The car is not really new. It’s used. A 2001 Mazda 626. It’s got chipped paint and a stain or two in the carpet, but it has pretty low mileage and is reported to be a reliable brand of car. The mechanic gave it a clean bill of health (after changing the tires and a CV axle).

I’ll admit, I’m a bit emotional about the car, too.

This will be our Seattle car. We decided that it would be best to have a small, gas efficient, reliable car for me to drive while Patrick and I live in Seattle. So, for a while we’ve been shopping to replace Brian’s truck. We set the money aside months ago.

We bought our Jeep with the intention of it being a business car for Brian. That’s why we got the model with leather seats and all the frills. So he can look like he deserves his “director” title when he entertains business associates from out of town. We got an SUV to help ease the transition from a truck.

Last week, my grandpa’s truck died. He needed a new one, and I offered ours. It pushed us to finally buy a car for me and Patrick.

This is one of the last and biggest items on our “get ready for transplant” checklist. I’ll admit, we’ve been stalling. Having taken this step is a leap of faith proving that we believe the transplant call will come. But it makes the reality of our having to live apart all too real, too.

Patrick’s reaction to the car is ironically all too appropriate. This car really does represent a big change that will take him away from home.

But don’t tell him that. Tell him:

“Patrick has a new blue car!”

Childhood Illnesses

In the pre-transplant world, it’s good for Patrick to be building immunity. So, Brian and I have not been overprotective. Even common childhood illnesses can mean extra work with Patrick, though.

Yesterday morning, Patrick wasn’t as interested in breakfast as usual. (Not that he ever eats a lot, but breakfast is the meal he eats best.) Then he opened his mouth wide and I spotted the culprit. His tonsils were bright red and covered with little bumps.

Great. So the first question is “Is this a normal childhood thing? Or is this a complication of Short Gut?” A childhood illness we might be able to keep at home under mom’s care. However, a complication such as acid erosion or varices could mean something much more serious. Where to start?

First, call dad so he’s not caught off guard by a frantic call later. Second, call the pediatrician.

Patrick’s got one of the best pediatricians I know. However, if she’s not around, then finding the right backup doctor can be tricky. Patrick’s not a simple kid so even simple illnesses take some creative treatment. So yesterday, since Patrick’s doctor and her residents were all booked up, the scheduler did some digging and found me a pediatrician in another office.

At noon it was pouring rain. At 12:30 Patrick finally conceded that he needed a nap and fell asleep. At 12:45 I juggled a sleeping Patrick, diaper bag, medical history, and me out the door and into the car. There ought to be awards for moving a sleeping child without waking him – especially in pouring rain. We just made our appointment at 1.

Miraculously, the scheduler had found me a pediatrician with other Short Gut patients. (This is an especial miracle, since she relayed the message to the doctor that Patrick was medically complex because he had “Short Duct Syndrome”.) She put me at ease that what I’d seen was most likely the result of a virus that’s going around our area right now. Then we spent 10 minutes trying to get Patrick to open his mouth wide enough for her to see.

Sure enough, Patrick has Herpangina, a virus caused sore throat with blisters and sores on the throat. There’s no treatment for it, other than to try to relieve symptoms with soft foods. It’ll last about a week.

Of course, childhood illnesses aren’t simple when you’re sick enough to need a transplant.. no matter how healthy you look on the outside.

The bug has upset Patrick’s tummy that doesn’t have enough gut to absorb extra fluid with.. and too much stasis to even pass it through. So about 2, Patrick spit up for the first time. I drained 2 cups of fluid in 10 minutes from his stomach. He seemed to be feeling better eating french fries at a fast food restaurant last night… Until, of course, he ate one two many and it all came back, plus another several cups.

I never dreamed I’d be in a situation where my kid throwing up all over in a restaurant would be, first, not a surprise and second, not a disaster. It was a mess! But I knew it just meant it was time to go home and rest his tummy. Drain first, french fries second.

I’ve been running extra fluids all day to keep up with what he’s losing as I vent his tummy to prevent future episodes. And, I’ve been watching the thermometer.

See, if this illness follow it’s normal course, then Patrick will probably get a fever, too. If it gets high enough, we’ll probably start asking those questions I hate. “Do we call?” “Does he need cultures?” “Do we go to the hospital?” I hate to make him go sit cooped up in a hospital room for a little sore throat virus. But sometimes it’s better to be safe than sorry.

In the meantime, though, Patrick is being completely endearing and adorable today. He climbs up in my lap and moans his best pitiful moan. Then he grins and snuggles down. It took a conscious effort to not just sit and hold him while he slept today. How can you be frustrated by someone who’s so cute and patient when they’re sick?

Seattle Checkup and a Miraculous Anniversary


Not sure what we were thinking, but 3 days after returning from Yellowstone, we headed up to Seattle. It was time again for Patrick’s quarterly checkup and we decided to keep the vacation going by taking a few extra days and going as a family.

We arrived the day before our appointment and spent the afternoon and evening with our good friends. Lindy, her husband Kelly, and their daughter Lauren live north of Seattle and are kind enough to let us crash their home for these regular checkups. Lauren’s just a few months younger than Patrick and is one of his very favorite friends to play with.

Patrick’s appointment was Thursday afternoon. So, after making a stop for Mighty-O doughnuts (a special treat one of Patrick’s nurses introduced us to), we headed up to Seattle Children’s.

Every visit, they send us a detailed itinerary with individual appointments with his transplant coordinator, dietician, and doctor. But the reality is that they all come into the room at once to see Patrick. His dietician appeared first and couldn’t wait to show me his growth chart. While most kids’ chart shows a nice even curve that tapers off as they get older, Patrick’s has been taking a steep vertical climb lately. He’s in the 50th percentile for weight right now.. However, because he’s only around the 10th percentile for height, this means that he was at about 104% of his target weight. As the team gathered, they couldn’t help commenting on how nice it was to see chunky little legs.

Dr. Horslen, Patrick’s GI, seemed quite happy with how Patrick is doing overall. We talked what Patrick’s eating, how his stomach had been upset by travelling, and some of the strategies being used to prevent infections. Then, after examining Patrick, Dr. Horslen said that he didn’t see a reason for Patrick to need to be seen again as soon. Instead of 3 months, they suggested that we come back in 6. The team in Salt Lake has been doing a great job caring for Patrick and they are happy letting them continue to do so until the transplant comes.

Hearing an enthusiastic clean bill of health (well, except for the Short Gut and obvious problems that come with day to day living) was a special treat on that day. See, July 15th was more than just the day of Patrick’s appointment to me. It was the one-year anniversary of the worst day of my life.. the day of Patrick’s cardiac arrest.

When I look at Patrick now and compare it to what the doctors were telling us was the projected outcome of such a traumatic event I can’t help by say that I believe in miracles. One year before I was watching doctors work frantically and feeling uncertain of what the future could hold. Now, he was full of energy crawling around the doctor’s office, impossible to contain, showing off and flirting as only Patrick can.

After the appointment, we made a quick stop at the Ronald McDonald house to try to get a vision of where it is Patrick and I will be living during his recovery. Patrick LOVED sitting on Ronald’s lap, and especially, for some reason, honking Ronald’s nose. The house is different than I’d imagined, but kind of felt like it could be home for a while.

We decided that dinner that night needed to be something special. Brian suggested a picnic and Lindy and Kelly told us about a place called Carkeek Park in the city.

So, after a short detour chasing down a lost delivery of TPN, we headed into Seattle. We stopped at Pagliacci’s for pizza, then the Laylands guided us to a road where city suddenly turned to beautiful forest that then opened up to a beautiful view of the sound.

We ate dinner, then let the kids play on a little playground in the park. Lauren tried to teach Patrick to climb up the slides.. but in the end, he decided he was a much bigger fan of a giant teeter totter.

Then, we took a bridge with stairs that led us down the bluff and onto the beach.

This was the first time Patrick’s been to a beach and I wasn’t sure what he’d think of it. At first, he wasn’t so certain.. But soon he discovered the joy of walking and stomping in the sand.

Before long, he was cheering out loud! Then we sat for a while and watched Lauren, Brian and Kelly throw rocks in the water.

Finally, we decided it was past bedtime and we’d better head back. But to leave, we had to carry Patrick out. He wouldn’t take more than 3 steps without stopping to cheer.

Friday morning, Brian went in to his company’s offices in Seattle for a few hours. That left Lindy, the kids and I to play. We decided to go back to the beach because Patrick loved it so much. This time, we went to a beach about 10 minutes from the Lindy’s house.

Since I hadn’t planned on beach trips, I dressed Patrick in the only clothes I could come up with for the job. For shoes, he borrowed a bright purple pair of Crocs from Lauren. The result was quite the fashion statement.

It was a cold morning, though. Even beach savvy Lauren didn’t want to throw rocks in the water. I took Patrick down to watch the waves but decided it was a bad time to get wet. So I took his hands and went to lead him up the beach. He surprised me, though. He turned around and headed back to the water and stood where the waves would just lap onto his toes. Once he knew that was safe, he crept forward until the water came up to his ankles. Then he stood there until the cold water had him shivering all over.  The only pictures I got there he looks miserable because he was already chilled to the bone. But at least now we can say Patrick’s stood in the surf.

I was grateful for an Ivar’s stand on the way back where we could get some clam chowder to warm us up. Patrick was just grateful for his carseat. He fell asleep immediately and both he and Lauren slept 3 hours.

We went to a japanese steakhouse for dinner. It was a first for everyone but Brian and myself. Most loved the show, but once Patrick saw fire come from the onion and oil volcano, he was pretty nervous about the rest. He was a fan of the chopsticks they gave him to play with, though.. That was our saving grace.

And then, like all good things, our vacation had to come to an end. We flew home Saturday. Patrick showed his true daredevil character on landing. Because of the heat in Salt Lake, the landing was a bit rougher than usual. The girl sitting next to me almost turned green. Then, as we touched down, I looked at Patrick. He was grinning from ear to ear and chuckling. The smile didn’t leave his face until we’d reached the gate. He LOVED the bumps. My little thrill seeker!

I don’t know anyone who loves life as much as Patrick does. Perhaps because so early on he had to fight to keep it. What a miracle it is to share his life with him.

An excellent Seattle trip

Patrick had his quarterly appointment at Seattle Children’s on Thursday. And it was a very good trip in every way.

Because Patrick’s morning med schedule is so complicated right now, I opted to fly out on Wednesday afternoon. Our flight left at about 2 p.m. As usual, it took some effort to get through security and I probably looked insane hauling Patrick, his duffel sized diaper bag, two suitcases, a carseat, and of course, him in his stroller around the airport. But we made the flight without incident. In fact, we landed early and had time to visit and exchange blogs with a very nice woman from the same flight while we waited for our ride.

We stayed with my friend Lindy, her husband Kelly, and her little girl, Lauren. Lauren is 4 months younger than Patrick. They have always gotten along really well and it was fun to let the two of them play. Most of the play consisted of stealing each other’s toys and pacifiers.. but they did spend some time dancing to YouTube videos and there was more than one hug exchanged.

Patrick and Lindy

Thursday were the appointments. It was kind of strange to actually be seen in clinic. This is the first time since Patrick’s evaluation a year ago that we’ve done this visit in clinic instead of inpatient.

They did the usual set of vitals: weight, length, blood pressure. As we finished, another little boy about Patrick’s size came in to be weighed. He had a Broviac line and TPN in a backpack, too. I think this is the first time that I’ve ever met another kid on home TPN. It was kind of strange for me to see.

Our first visit was with Patrick’s dietician. She walked in and her first words were, “This weight looks spectacular! I had to come see if it could be correct!” She remembered meeting a tiny, frail, jaundiced baby last year. To be met by a happy, chunky, energetic (almost to a fault) toddler was a surprise.

She looked at Patrick’s TPN, his labs, and his growth charts. We talked about his current diet and in the end, she said that she was nothing but pleased with what she was seeing. She even said that it’s time to back off a bit on his feeds so that we don’t make him overweight.

It’s been recommended recently by some doctors to try continuous feeds again so I asked her her opinion of it. She told me that it’s pretty common for kids with anatomy similar to Patrick’s to stop continuous feeds after this long. She said that focusing on oral feeding so that Patrick would have an easier time learning to eat after his transplant was her preferred goal.

She also explained that some kids who’ve had problems with hypoglycemia when tiny can outgrow the problem and tolerate breaks from TPN. She watched Patrick attempt a few head dives off the bench we were sitting on and said that she thought it might be good for him to have some untethered time. This is something I’ll discuss more in depth with Patrick’s GI and dietician here. We’ve always been a bit nervous, considering his history.

Looking at books in the waiting room

Next, Patrick’s transplant nurse came in and took copies of his labs and other medical history that I’d brought with me. Then Dr. Reyes, the transplant surgeon joined us.

Again, he was excited to see how much Patrick has grown. He asked me how well he was eating and pooping since his ostomy was taken down. I explained to him all the questions that had been raised last month about whether or not Patrick had an obstruction that needed to be fixed. Then I told him that some of the doctors wondered if he needed another surgery to try to correct the problem.

Dr. Reyes’ reaction was quite direct. He said “No. We’ll get him a transplant. That will fix the problem.” He didn’t think it was a good idea to mess with things when Patrick is otherwise stable and healthy… especially if that reduces the remaining pieces of intestine.

I asked how Patrick’s reaching 10 kilos in weight would affect his candidacy for a transplant. Dr. Reyes said that that was a really big deal for him. This size changes the rules a bit for what he needs in a donor. Before, we’d been told the donor needed to be the same size as him, preferably smaller. Now that he’s bigger, they can reduce the size of a larger donor, too. His donor could be up to 6 or even 8 years old. The result is that his chances of finding a match go up.

So I had to ask if they could estimate a wait time. The answer, for all who are wondering, is still no. Dr. Reyes was careful to explain to me that Patrick’s B positive blood type is a mixed blessing. It means that there will be fewer matches. However, it also means that there are fewer waiting children with his blood type, which means his priority is higher, even while he’s healthy. Dr. Reyes just kept saying “We’ll get this transplant done.”

Next we talked about liver health. Patrick’s biopsy in September showed some early scarring of his liver. However, doctors responded quickly with a low-lipid diet and for the past several months his bilirubin and liver enzymes and other measurable signs show that his liver is relatively healthy. The clarity of his eyes and skin are also proof of this fact.

I told Dr. Reyes that we’ve been worried that Patrick’s spleen reacts so severely to infection. He admitted that the scarring in the liver was probably contributing to problems with the spleen. Recurring infections don’t help either. However, he said that a large spleen wasn’t as much of a worry if the liver isn’t also large.

Transplants are scary in a patient with a failing liver because as the liver fails, the body stops clotting as well.  Dr. Reyes said he’s not worried about that at all with Patrick. He feels safe doing the surgery. Then he said that if you fix the problems with the intestines, the liver can heal, and the spleen will get better. And he told me again, “We’ll get him transplanted.”

I asked one last question. Should we be keeping our bags packed? The answer was a resounding “Yes”. I really need to wrap my mind around that and get things in order so we’ll be ready to go quickly. The regular trips to Seattle and to the hospital here keep me practiced in packing and packing quickly – but still, it would be good to feel in some way prepared.

The mood of Patrick’s appointments was almost celebratory. His good health, his weight gain, and just the fact that we made it to a clinic visit without being admitted were all worthy of celebration.

We’ll go back again in July.

Roughousing with Lindy

The rest of the trip was pretty laid back. Lindy, who was kind enough to drive us half an hour to the appointments and then wait two hours for them to be done, took us back to her house. Patrick and Lauren crashed early. I was amazed that Patrick put himself to sleep there on just the second night.

And then, after a pretty amazing feat of getting three babies (Lindy was babysitting a 4 month old that day) into the car and off to the airport on time to catch our flight home… including all of Patrick’s medical care.. was impressive. Not the smoothest, but we accomplished it.

We got home Friday afternoon exhausted. Patrick and I both went to bed early. We all slept in. And today has been spent mostly in recovering from a pretty intense week.

I can’t really complain, though. It may be exhausting to chase after a one-year-old who crawls around the house emptying drawers and making monster noises… especially when I am the only thing standing between him and many broken lines. But I wouldn’t want to trade having him happy and wiggly and full of life – and best yet, at home – for anything in the world.

Easter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Top 10 ways you’ll know that Patrick has had his transplant

It seems that our fundraising efforts have created some confusion about Patrick’s transplant. The fact that the Produce for Patrick stands coincided with Patrick’s intestinal reconnection surgery has led a lot of people to believe that transplant has already happened. As much as we wish that were true, Patrick is still waiting for his transplant.

I’m asked every few days how the transplant went. And when I explain that we’re still waiting, the response I almost always get is “Well, you’ll let us know when it does, right?”

So – for all who are afraid that they’ll miss word of Patrick’s transplant, here is a list of ways you’ll know it’s happened. (It’s also a little intro to what we expect life to be like after transplant.)

1) We’ll be in Washington. Patrick is having his transplant done at Seattle Children’s Hospital.

2) Brian will be alone when he’s at home. Patrick needs to live near Seattle Children’s for at least 6 months. I’ll be there with him.

3) Brian will achieve frequent flier status. The plan is for him to go back and forth between cities until Patrick and I can come home.

4) We’ll be germophobes. To prevent rejection, Patrick’s immune system will be suppressed. We won’t often take him into public places, and when we do, he’ll probably be wearing a mask. If you visit us, we’ll demand that you be healthy, and that you make sure to wash your hands… often.

5) Patrick will be allowed to eat. Not just a teaspoon of formula and one bite of solid food every 3 hours. He will need normal quantities of real food because…

6) Patrick won’t need TPN anymore. At first they’ll slowly decrease the number of hours that he has it. A goal before he comes home will be that he doesn’t need it at all anymore. He won’t have an IV anymore. It’s possible that for a while he’ll be fed through the tube in his stomach.. but eventually, even that will not be needed.

7) Patrick and I rack up a different kind of frequent flier miles. For the first little while after coming home, Patrick will need to go back to Seattle Children’s much more often than he goes now. To make these trips while he’s on immunosuppressants, we will probably stop flying commercially and use smaller planes through a service like Angel Flight. Since small planes fly more slowly, the trip will take a day each way, not counting time in clinic.

8 ) We’ll have to start watching our budget even more closely than we do now. Right now, most of Patrick’s care falls under our insurance company’s catastrophe protection. However, immune suppressants are a pharmacy benefit, to which no out of pocket maximum applies. Co-pays for transplant medications average hundreds of dollars a month.

9) We’ll probably change a lot of what we do. Patrick’s care will require a whole new and different routine. Because his health will be at risk, we’ll have to be careful of where we go with him, as well as what we do around the house. (For example, gardening is a huge health risk for Patrick.)

10) WE’LL TELL YOU! I promise, when it comes time for Patrick’s transplant, we will be overflowing with excitement, fear, and anticipation. An intestinal transplant is MAJOR. You won’t be guessing if it’s happened. It will be all we can think about for a long time.

Now, the next question I’ve been getting is this. “If Patrick hasn’t had his transplant yet, why are you fundraising?” The answer is this… Patrick’s transplant is a VERY expensive one. It’s a newer form of transplant with higher rejection risk, and so follow-up care for this transplant is quite intesive. Furthermore, we have to travel to have the transplant done, which ups our cost exponentially, especially when you add in cost of living and travel on top of out-of-network medical bills and medication co-pays. Raising $70,000 can take some time, and we’re trying to be prepared and to help in the fundraising efforts while we are still in a position to do so.

There is, of course, the possibility that Patrick’s health could fail before he gets to transplant. This is one of the biggest reasons that we decided to work with COTA to do fundraising. Any money raised that Patrick doesn’t need will go to the transplant-related expenses of other children.

So there’s my educational spiel of the morning. Hope it helps to answer some of the questions you may have.

Prayer Trading

I came across this quote recently from an address given at the Families Supporting Adoption National Conference. The speaker Troy Dunn said, “My mom introduced the beautiful concept of adoption in a very simple manner. She said, ‘There is something that is called prayer trading, and we’re going to trade prayers with somebody. Somewhere out there is a girl praying for a good family for her baby. We are going to pray for a good tummy with a baby in it, and we are going to answer each others’ prayers.'”

When we were considering adoption and meeting and learning from birthfamilies, I sometimes felt guilty that I would benefit through someone else’s loss. My prayers to become a mother would be answered though another family’s suffering.

I expressed these feelings once at an adoption conference and was quickly cut off by a birthmother  who overheard me. She reminded me adoption benefits both parties. For me, obviously, it provided me with the chance to be a mother… something I wouldn’t have been able to have on my own. For a birthfamily, it provides a hopeful solution to what otherwise might be a hopeless situation. In the case of adoption two families are suffering, and in the end, two families get a happy ending.

And so, as we prayed to adopt, we prayed that Patrick’s birth family would be blessed, comforted, and guided through a difficult time. We continue to pray for them.

We’re in a situation of prayer trading again. I’ve heard other families with children on transplant lists express feelings of extreme guilt as they consider the loss that another family will experience for a transplant to be possible. I’ve felt guilty about this idea myself. However, I’ve also watched families who have lost children and who have chosen organ donation. And I have seen the comfort that comes from knowing that their loss could at least help someone else.

One family in particular comes to mind. One of their sons is waiting for a transplant. Another was recently killed in an accident. When we attending the funeral for the son who’d been lost, I heard his parents and brothers and sisters all proudly state that he had been an bone and tissue donor. I also heard them say that they were praying for their other son’s donor family – as they could now relate in a new way with them.

What a beautiful testament to this miraculous gift organ donation can be. Not only does it give the gift of life to the recipient, but in some small measure the gift of peace to the donor’s loved ones. Prayer trading at it’s best.

I don’t mean in writing this to diminish in any way the grief associated with the loss of a loved one, especially a child. It is real and deep and not something we take lightly.  However, organ donation lets a light of hope shine where otherwise there would be two sad endings.

What a marvelous things that sometimes when we are going through our greatest trials that Heavenly Father allows us to answer one another’s prayers.

Please join us as we now trade prayers with Patrick’s donor family. And please consider, if you haven’t done so, registering as an organ donor yourself.

Thank You

Before I say anything else in this blog, I need to begin by saying THANK YOU! Since we made the decision to adopt Patrick we have been overwhelmed by the show of generosity and support from everyone we know – and many we don’t. We’ve been the recipients of countless kindnesses and gifts including clothes, toys, blankets, and help with other baby needs for Patrick, help with meals, household chores, yardwork, and even completely redoing a room to be a nursery. You’ve been the listening ears, the helping hands, the friendly smiles, and the shoulders to cry on as we’ve gone through all this journey has taken us through over the past several months.

Some of the kind gestures are small things you may not remember and others have come at great personal sacrifice.

Raising Patrick, helping him grow in both body and spirit, making whatever time he has on this earth the very best it can be, and giving him every opportunity to live as long as he can… is the type of endeavor that requires an army of willing volunteers… and we are grateful to all of you who have joined in that effort. You have lightened our load. And you have bettered his life.

Amazingly, with all you do, I’m always being asked what more you can do.

So, for those of you who want something else… we are working now to raise money to cover expenses above and beyond what our insurance and savings can provide. On this website, you’ll find ideas or ways you can help – whether with a monetary donation or a few minutes of your time. My mom is our campaign coordinator and she can also help to point you in the right direction.