Patrick had a clinic appointment today. Brian actually got to come with us. (Yes, the team cleared him and his cough.)
It went about like this.
We arrived and visited with all of our transplant friends in the waiting room because it was transplant clinic day. They called us back and grabbed a set of vitals. Then they showed us to a room.
Patrick, who stayed up early, got up late and didn’t nap proceeded to run around the room getting into everything he shouldn’t.
The nurse coordinator came in and went of Patrick’s medication list and asked us if we had any new concerns. I think we told her we wanted to follow up on the suggestion that Patrick might be allowed home this month.
She left. We moved all the gloves up high on the wall so Patrick couldn’t play with them.
The dietitian came in and we talked about Patrick’s current diet and how he’s tolerating feeds. We discussed how much he’s eating, his upset stomach of the past 2 days, and what the next step for feeds would be. She also told us that we could change his rate when his gut settles down to give him a 4 hour window.
Then I asked her what her goals and criteria were for him. What she wanted to see to feel like he was doing well enough to go home. She said he seemed to be doing really well. He’s gained 5 pounds since transplant. He is continually doing better with eating.
She said that, from her perspective, he is ready to go. But that she doesn’t like being the one to make that call. Then we talked about how diet would be managed once Patrick was back in Utah.
She left. Patrick’s behavior went bezerk. We put him in time out and he started throwing a major tantrum.
Then the team came in.
It was not surgeon we’d heard was running clinic who we’d hoped to see. I thought, “well, maybe we won’t discuss this this week after all.”
Thankfully, Patrick settled down. He said the phrase we’ve been rehearsing with him. “I want to go to my home.” They kind of didn’t answer.
So I told the doctor about Patrick’s strange gut this past few days and how I wondered if it was something he ate or the leftovers or Norwalk. Then I asked if the labs looked good, thinking that maybe I was being overly optimistic. Nope. Patrick’s labs look great. No dehydration. Even with things seeming off, he’s in a good place. His Prograf level needed a slight increase.
Then the nurse coordinator turned to the doctor and asked, “So the big question is, can they go back to Utah?” And you know what? The doctor said yes.
I can’t remember his exact words. I was so stunned. Basically, he knew we’d discussed it in rounds several times and knew what had been offered and that Patrick was meeting those goals.
So, we asked about logistics like setting up homecare and planning for Patrick to go back to school. (That answer scares me. They said to start planning for him to go to school. I am trying to figure out how to wait out the last of cold and flu season.) And I asked a couple of my other random questions.
And the nurse coordinator said she’d call me tomorrow. And they said to come back in a month.
And that was it. We walked out feeling like we’d cheated the system somehow.
So we are working on plans to go home. We’d like to leave tomorrow afternoon if we can to stay ahead of a storm that’s due to come in. That would put us home Saturday night or Sunday Morning. We are renting a van to take stuff home in and I will drive Patrick in the car.
Brian planned the trip. I called the insurance and Patrick’s doctor back home.
We celebrated valentine’s and Patrick’s sealing anniversary early by going out for dinner.
We went shopping for snacks. Then we packed up all our clothes.
We never count on something promised to us without expecting things to go wrong. It is possible that homecare won’t get arranged and we won’t be able to leave till after Monday. Or that Patrick’s gut really will be sick, not just confused by so many cheerios. Or the weather will turn bad. Or something.
And it’s kind of taboo to talk about going home until you walk out the door. So we aren’t coming home yet. We are just making plans to come home.
I was almost going to put off writing one more day. Then I thought, “Well maybe I’ll send a short update out just so people know we are ok.” Then I pulled up the blog and realized I haven’t written in almost a week. So I’m going to try my best to post a quick blog. I am very VERY sleepy so this may not be my best.
Things are good here. Patrick’s belly finally has been seeming settled. On Sunday I turned up Patrick’s feed rate without it making him sick overnight.. a first since he got sick and a sign that he might finally have beaten the virus. However, the diaper I changed just as I put Patrick back to bed has me questioning my confidence in that notion and we’ll see what the night brings.
We’ve been working on finding our rhythm again this week. I mixed up the routine a bit this discharge. I realized that it wasn’t worth the struggle of trying to do so many things outside of the room. It just means more exposure for Patrick. And more time spent tracking him down when he wanders or telling him to stay out of things and more bad feelings between us.
He was so happy to be back at the Ronald McDonald House. So happy to be able to play without rules with his choice of toys. The first couple of days he didn’t want to leave the room. So I started making formula here in the room instead of in the kitchen. And I started drawing up his morning meds at night and putting them in the cooler I keep in the room so I don’t have to go get them in the morning. And we don’t go out as much. And we are both cool with that.
Patrick trying on my new hat and scarf.
But we have had some fun, regardless. Friday, Child Life at the hospital arranged for a mini carnival and haircuts to be held at the same time. So we went over and got Patrick and myself much needed haircuts. And while it was my turn, Patrick got to go into the room next door and play. Then, he got to pick carnival prizes. Only he didn’t just pick for himself. He got gifts for Brian and me, too. He picked me out a bottle of lotion which, really, is the first time I think I’ve ever had him pick a gift for me and struck me as very thoughtful. He picked hoop earrings for Brian, but then noticed a Rubix cube and changed his mind. For himself, a book light that we use every night to read his picture scripture stories.
Saturday, we got together with a friend that Patrick made here at the hospital. They are staying in the Leid, a hotel attached to the hospital. His grandma and I have been watching for a chance to get them together. So on Saturday, I invited them to come play in the snow. We had a foot of snow, but it was 45 degrees and starting to melt.
So, in the morning, Patrick and I ran out to Shopko and bought some snowboots and waterproof gloves on clearance. We also picked up some snow dye bottles. And then we had a McDonalds happy meal together. (The little boy is here doing the intensive feeding therapy program so we thought that eating together might be good peer support for both boys.) Then we went out and played in the snow for several hours. We built a snowman. Patrick’s friend then said we needed a snow elephant, so we built that, too. I dug a box out of the recycling bin and we helped the boys sled on a little hill and they laughed and laughed. We made snow angels. We threw snow at each other, but not snowballs because our perfect packing snow made killer snowballs. A family in the house from Tennessee kind of timidly came out to play, too. I think the moms had as much fun as the kids.
Sledding in a box works when both the hill and the kids are small. We wore out the bottom of the box, though
Patrick putting some extra color on our snowman. When we started, he just had a red hat. But he was already melting as we worked
When we started, the snow in this yard was pristine. I finally realized most of our housemates are from the south so even if they weren’t at the hospital, they didn’t usually play in snow. This just felt better.
And then, by the end of the day the color had all run off our snowman because of the heat and by the end of the next day, he was just a little pile of snow.
Another treat is that Patrick can take baths again. Since transplant, baths have been very limited and often forbidden. With an ostomy, they were possible but had to be short. After takedown, he had an open incision for almost a month. In the hospital, I only do sponge baths. So to be able to put him in the tub and let him play is a treat for both of us. He’s had a few 1 hour baths. One morning, I just put all the towels in the room on the floor to catch the spills and splashed and let him go.
So much has changed for Patrick. It will be a lot to get used to when he comes back. He is eating like crazy these days. I’ve started to let him have snacks to just graze on. I put the in the disposable coffee cups that the house provides. So he munches on cheerios while we drive. I have cheerios in my seats. Who knew I’d be happy for that little milestone one day?
On Sunday evening, I packed him a cup of veggie straws and we went for a drive. He finished his cup after 10 minutes and asked to go back home for more. I didn’t oblige. Instead, we went to drive across the “Mormon Bridge” just cuz we’d heard about it. Then, as I was driving back, I noticed signs for the “Lewis and Clark Monument” outside of Council Bluffs, Iowa. So, we went over there. Arrived just as the sun was setting, reflecting in the Missouri River. Being in a state park, on a hill overlooking the city.. felt a bit like home. Patrick was just happy to wear his snowboots and stomp in snow and mud.
Patrick said “take my picture by this wall”. So I did.
Patrick also snacked on Cheerios all through our Primary lesson this week. We were looking for a room to do this in and found the Sunday house staff member resting on the couch in the room we usually use because her back was out. Patrick just snuggled up next to her and watched her show and ate Cheerios. Then, when her show ended, I told him it was time to do his lesson. So he asked her to join us. She obliged and it was very sweet, and kind of nice to get to have someone else listening as we talked about Jesus and his resurrection and atonement. She even sang along with us. Patrick tried to make her say the prayer, but I persuaded him to teach her about how we pray and let her listen just this one time.
Anyway – I was saying… so much has changed for Patrick. He is growing up in so many ways.
He eats. Kind of all the time. It’s still new and most of what he eats is like what you’d feed a toddler still learning to eat. But he has discovered a love for ham and cheese sandwiches. He chews up and swallows the bread and cheese, but spits out the ham. The first time he did this, I was stunned. When a few days later I offered another sandwich, he said “Mmm. Yum!!” I think he just needs time to go through the developmental stages of eating. I haven’t taken him back to feeding therapy yet because I wanted to give him a week to get better and see what the doctors said in clinic this week. But we are moving the right direction.
He has realized that dirty diapers don’t feel good. Now, he knew this before, but his stool was very different before. It was all liquid and either had to be changed right away or absorbed completely into the diaper. This is different. So we get up and change him during the night if he goes. And he’s learned to go back to sleep after. (A HUGE step for him.) And when we someday can keep a routine long enough, I think we’ll be ready to start exploring potty training again because I think he finally has some control over that.
Meanwhile, this means I am very sleepy. It’s kind of like I have a newborn again. Formula has to be refilled every 4 hours because Patrick’s bags only hold that much. A bigger bag could be put on ice and not need this attention, but then Patrick would have to wear a bigger backpack. He has one, but he prefers the little backpack that doesn’t get in his way when he sits down. Between changing diapers and refilling formula, I am up every 3-4 hours during the night. This is why I don’t blog. I am so sleepy I crash when Patrick crashes. And since naps can mean insomnia, we don’t always make that up during the day.
Taking the snowy way because he has snow boots
He still chews on everything, but he’s given up paci’s. Ok, I’ll be honest. He tried to cave on that today. He found his pacifiers and asked for them back today. But I reminded him he had chosen to be a big boy and didn’t need them anymore. Then I grabbed the sewing kit and cut the paci’s out of his wubbanubs and sewed their mouths back closed. He was sad. He said he wasn’t a big boy. He was a girl. So he could have paci’s. So I grabbed a chewy tube and sewed it onto the hand of his monkey and told him that he was a big boy and his monkey could help him have chewies instead. This kind of worked and he is happily sleeping with his friends again tonight.
Patrick has also made tremendous leaps in language. His first/second person confusion is pretty well gone. And he talking more and about more grown up things. The other day, we had a really off day. We tried to nap and it failed and Patrick had a chip on his shoulder all day, and after fighting about nap, I did, too. Nothing clicked. He kept pushing boundaries. I kept falling for it and snapping at him. Finally, we got to the room in the evening and I sat down and just cried and told him I didn’t like fighting with him anymore. He gave me a big hug. He told me, “I’m a tech.” This is the title of the medical assistants who check vitals at the hospital. I don’t know why this exemplified the most compassionate person he could be at that moment, but I understood that was exactly what he was offering. Then, he got up and got my Kindle and brought it to me and said. “Mom. Look at your Kindle. It calm you.” And you know what, he was right? We sat on the bed and I read my kindle and he played with his tablet and we were calm.
He is still in love with reading. I wish we were making faster gains. It’s really hard when school is only 1 hour a day, 3 days a week and we rarely make it a week without missing at least one day. But I’m trying. On Monday, I pulled out Patrick’s stack of sight word readers and my laptop and I told him that for every book he’d read to me, I’d let him play one game on SesameStreet.org. This strategy actually worked really well. Not only did we practice reading, but we played some educational games. Then, when he wanted more mommy school, I pulled out a little game we have with letters on dice and we built words to and then changed their first letters to find rhyming words. It was one of my better mommy school sessions.
Patrick often pulls out this bike and rides while I do the laundry
And today, we just stayed in the room and cleaned out Patrick’s toys. It helped him remember what he had here so he wanted to play here more. It helped me organize some of what was overflowing. And it gave us a step in the right direction for daddy to come back tomorrow.
Brian has had a doozy of a trip home. He had meetings with a group from out of town last week and a couple of days in, one of them came down with a cold. Well, Brian caught it. And it took him down. He had to take a couple of sick days. When he was still running fevers after a few days, he actually ended up at the doctor where he was diagnosed with bronchitis and given antibiotics and a cough suppressant. But that didn’t mean rest for him. We decided that a last step to really cleaning up the house was replacing the carpet in our bedroom. So, still sick, he moved all of the furniture out of our room so that could be done Monday morning. Then, also Monday morning, discovered that he had a nail in his tire. Had to put on a tire and take it to be repaired.
He is a lot better, but his cough is still lingering so I get to try to reach Patrick’s team tomorrow to figure out if that means that Daddy shouldn’t be around. And then we have to figure out if that means postponing his trip or finding him somewhere else to sleep or wearing a mask all the time or what. This is another new thing for us. Navigating a contagious world with an immune suppressed family member.
It has led me to research into contagious period for certain illnesses. Someday, I’ll summarize that into a handy guide of “how long to stay away if you have been or might be getting sick.” For tonight, this was a handy little document. http://www.bccdc.ca/NR/rdonlyres/8061A728-C969-4F38-9082-B0296EF2A128/0/Epid_GF_childhood_quickguide_may_09.pdf Especially given that Utah is experiencing outbreaks of a few vaccine preventable diseases right now. I’m biting my tongue and trying not to blog about how scared I am coming back to this absolutely ridiculous problem. It’ll probably come out one of these days when I have time, though.
Anyway – I think I’m about out of stories worth telling. Well, maybe just one more. First of all, we survived a very long weekend of no dinner groups at the Ronald McDonald House. I miss the friendly group of families that was here over Christmas. The current group has a more every-family-for-himself attitude that I think has grown out of the panic of cold and flu season. Regardless, knowing that norovirus can be spread in food, I decided we’d better just cook for ourselves. I started to brainstorm dinner with Patrick the other night and he said, “I have a great idea! Let’s have chicken! Like at the hospital.” Well, I’d had KFC one night and apparently he liked it. But KFC was out of chicken and literally locked their doors that night. Odd. So we ended up getting a rotisserie chicken instead and I think we did pretty darn well with instant mashed potatoes and gravy made out of Patrick’s chicken broth. Patrick ate a ton and we were both happy.
Patrick and the Omaha Lancers Hockey Team
But tonight, dinner groups are back. And we started out with a great one. The Omaha Lancers, a junior league hockey team. Not knowing they were coming, Patrick decided to wear his Avs (hockey) sweater today. So he gave us away early as hockey fans. And I’m sure he made and impression and won them over. He traced the player numbers on every team member’s jersey.. then spelled out the letters of their names. They made him pancakes and ham and toast, all current favorites, which of course won him over, too.
Ok. I am out of stories and really should get some sleep.
A shot of the snow Monday morning after it snowed all day Sunday. Before this, there wasn’t any snow on the ground.
My phone rang at 5:30 this morning. It was a recording from Omaha Public Schools announcing a snow day. This is the second snow day of the week. Church was also cancelled Sunday. It is snowing. A little over a foot has fallen.
I am trying to decide if this is premature. The parking lot of the Ronald McDonald House has snowbanks 10 feet high where the plows piled snow. And on Monday, I barely got my little two-wheel-drive car to go up the hill on a road with minimal plowing. I’m not sure that this is more or worse snow than we get in Utah. But the roads are less safe for it. They are narrow. VERY narrow. With no shoulders or turn lanes and cars parked down both sides. Also, everything is very hilly. So, while I grew up on the edge of a valley and our hills might trap us at home while the rest of the valley could manage to get around. Here, you might encounter 3 very steep streets within a few blocks of each other.
I don’t blame them for keeping the school buses home.
It didn’t affect us much with Patrick inpatient. We just watched the snow out the window. Snow days have fewer volunteers and more staff that got stuck trying to come in and fewer child life activities. But we are cozy and warm and protected from the weather. We have lots of toys and TV and crafts and books.
The less snowy days have provided ample help. We had 3 volunteers come by yesterday, giving me hours to get away and grocery shop and clean and rest. The day before, child life and music therapy and physical therapy filled in because there weren’t volunteers and I got to go back to the house and do laundry and pack clothes for a few more days. With nurses taking care of the medications and diapers and formula if I happened to sleep through those needs at night, I’ve actually had a chance to mostly catch up on my sleep in the past 2 weeks.
And that’s very good news. Because this morning, Patrick’s nurse practitioner came in and said that adding extra fluid to Patrick’s feeds had caught up his hydration and she was going to recommend discharge. It took a bit longer for rounds to come around, and I still wasn’t getting my hopes up too much. The added volume that giving more fluids required had made Patrick’s belly gurgle and dump during the night again and I had just changed 3 diapers back to back so I was pretty sure they weren’t going to let us go.
They came around for rounds and asked about Patrick’s prograf levels and they were borderline high and I was almost entirely positive, especially since it was a snow day, that they’d want to keep him one more day.
But, they said that since Thursday mornings are lab days, that homecare could provide the same care they were providing and so we could go. I settled in for a long wait, as discharge has taken till dinner the last few times. But an hour later, Patrick’s nurse arrived with some patient belongings bags and a cart for me to pack up our things and by 1:00, I was signing discharge papers.
Moving us back in always takes work. For some reason, discharge and the monthly diaper delivery always come together and that takes a good hour to make room for in this tiny room as I clean out and haul out old boxes.
But, we got everything settled in. We found time to work on a valentine’s craft, even. Patrick was obviously exhausted and overstimulated and couldn’t focus on much of anything.. but we made it through the evening ok. The dinner group let him start eating early when they saw us come down for a snack. Patrick was tired enough that he preferred playing in the room today. And so things are unpacked and put away and the formula is mixed up and medications reconstituted and line cared for and teeth brushed and pajamas on and by 9:30 tonight, Patrick was snoring in his bed.
I really should get to sleep. I know I’ll need to change at least two diapers and Patrick’s formula bag still needs refilled every 5 hours or so.
It is good to be out. And as discouraging as this hospital stay was, it seems we actually made some ground. We found the cause for the random bleeding I sometimes saw and treated the ulcers. And we found that Patrick can eat enough food to have reduced his overall tube feed rate by 10%. That isn’t much, but eating 10% of his calories is a big deal considering how little he ate before and how few foods he is used to eating.
The doctors have assured me over and over again that he shouldn’t still be contagious. They even went so far as to clear him to attend child life activities at the hospital, which is definitely a statement that they don’t see him as a risk. His gut, however, still isn’t back to where it was before the virus. That is going to take time and patience and lots and lots of diapering supplies.
A little contrast – this is the first room we were in that felt so tiny. The medical equipment was pulled out for vitals every 6 hours, then we tried to tuck it into corners.
Patrick riding a bike with PT. Wearing gloves and gown to prevent spreading germs
A self-portrait by Patrick. His stick figures are getting good.
And he took a picture from the bed of his IV pole and the TV
This is Patrick watching TV in the bed this morning. Notice the difference in the size of the room.
And this was Patrick waiting not-so-patiently after the room was packed up today so we could be discharged
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.
So I don’t have much of an update for today. Patrick’s gut is needing more time to recover so feeds are advancing only very slowly. He might make it back off of TPN tonight. We’ll be here till at least Sunday. We are stir crazy and sleepy, but getting by.
But, with all this extra time, I thought I’d take a minute to write one of those blog posts I’ve been meaning to write for a while. Today’s subject: education.
I have a friend who is a high school guidance counselor for at-risk kids. We had a long conversation the other day about how easy it is to give up when life gets hard and how she sees Patrick’s story as an example. Of not giving up. Of trying to stay positive.
I told her I hoped it also could be an example of the value of education. See, one could argue that I sit around in a hospital room or at home most of the day. I am a stay-at-home mom. What good did my expensive and time-consuming college degree in Spanish and Teaching English as a Second Language do me? Couldn’t it be said that bad luck or circumstance or whatever robbed me of opportunity? I’m not climbing any career ladders. In fact, my resume probably is pretty unimpressive right now.
Except, well, that that isn’t the case at all. The very best thing I could have done for my current situation was to get an education.
Today is my mom’s birthday. And I need to give credit to my mother. She taught me by example that an educated and involved stay-at-home mom was of great benefit to her children and to society in general.
I use my education every day. Small examples: yesterday I had the cramped crowded hospital room cleaned in extra detail because I have made friends with the woman who cleans it. We speak in Spanish. I have enough friends in similar circumstances to not take her for granted. And so when I told her I was feeling cramped and cluttered yesterday, she gave me some extra time.
But it’s more than that. Here are some reasons I am grateful for my education.
1. I learned how to learn. Can I tell you how important is to be able to study out a problem by myself? Patrick needs to start a PPI medication to help prevent future ulcers. (Think Pepcid.) When the prescription went to my pharmacy, they called and said the liquid medication wasn’t formulary. (That means in the list of covered prescriptions.) They also said that starting February 1st, no medications in that drug class would be formulary because they are available over the counter.
So, I went online and and I looked up my insurance company’s drug formulary. I found a list of all of the different types of medications that my insurance would cover. I read up on how each different variation might work differently. Then I called the insurance company and explained why the medicine was needed and why nothing in the approved drug formulary would work to treat the risk of ulcers for Patrick right now. I also explained how no over-the-counter options could work for him.
It worked. My case manager took the issue to the decision makers and by the end of the day they had approved coverage for him. Even in spite of the policy change.
The hospital pharmacist paid me a visit the next day, and also paid me a high compliment. She told her students, “She is really good at knowing her prescriptions and coverage. Don’t expect that from other patients.”
The thing is, I wrote a lot of research papers over the years. I learned how to study, understand a new subject, and then put what I learned into a useful argument. (I took a persuasive writing course that has been especially useful.)
2. I can communicate with doctors on their level. I know that doctors don’t mean to talk down to patients. But I can tell you that they do talk differently to patients and caregivers who have an education. If they don’t have to spend time building a really basic understanding, you will be given more opportunities.
Would you believe that they have patients who don’t know how to use measuring spoons? Have to be taught by a nurse. Or who can’t stick to a schedule enough to give certain frequent medications at home. If it seems that we “get away with” doing a lot of treatment at home, it isn’t by coincidence. I am starting with a more solid base.
3. I use my general education all the time. I was a language and humanities girl. I did well in math and science, but didn’t like them. Guess what? I use math and science all the time. I remember sitting in the PICU after Patrick’s cardiac arrest thinking, “Boy I wish I’d paid better attention in biology.” Now I am learning and paying attention to a lot of that. Can you tell me what dose in milligrams a medication is if you’re giving 2 mL of a 15 mg/mL solution? Yup. that’s algebra. Calculating a replacement fluid dose and rate? Multiplication tables in your head. Trying to figure out how much of which foods to give? Gotta understand osmolarity. This humanities major does a lot of math.
4. I know how to use language. Every industry has its jargon. If you talk the talk, you get more respect. You get less than 5 minutes with the doctors for rounds. In that time, they will read off a lot of medical information boiled down into language that makes it quick to communicate what is going on with a patient. Then, you can either spend your time having that translated to you… or, if you speak the language, you can use it to ask your questions and make requests.
I am asked all the time what my medical background is. Guess what? Just Patrick. But I have a good background in latin and greek roots so it doesn’t take long for me to learn words about anatomy or to learn from their roots what different medications do or are made of. I learned this jargon quickly and that means I know how to use it. I never feel like they are talking over my head. And that means I can be a part of the conversation.
What’s more, I’ve had to do a lot of learning how to reword my language to help Patrick’s behavior. Communicating with a child who has cognitive delays, language delays, and behavioral problems is challenging. It takes completely relearning how to use language to get your message across. It took a lot of time having therapists work with me to learn how, but it makes a HUGE difference for all of us.
5. I can teach my son. This last is probably the biggest for me right now. The version of “Free Appropriate Public Education” being offered through homebound education right now is laughable. Earlier this week, for whatever reason, Patrick’s teacher appeared, decided Patrick was unfocused and would like to be doing something else, and he left. If I didn’t know how to teach, Patrick would be completely behind. We spend time every day working on writing and reading and counting. It not only helps pass the time, but is filling in the huge gap left by our current situation. It means I can grab the moments when he is ready to learn and teach, even if that happens at some random hour in the middle of the night.
6. I can help others. Speaking spanish. Knowing how to cook and to sew. Playing the piano. Understanding doctors and short gut. Being able to research and know how an illness is spread and protect others. Knowing how children learn. Understanding computers. Having a strong scriptural foundation for my faith. All of these skills put me in a position to not just survive myself, but to help the people around me, too. No matter where I am.
I don’t mean to sound arrogant in any of this. What I’m trying to say is this… Education is never wasted. Whatever you learn, makes your life better. I am not working in the workforce.. but I use my education every day.
“If a person gains more knowledge and intelligence in this life through his diligence and obedience … , he will have so much the advantage in the world to come” (D&C 130:19).
So if you’re thinking that right now you’ve been dealt a rotten hand and you can’t do anything to make the situation better. If you’re wondering if it is worth trying to excel in the mandatory subjects at school that you just can’t imagine a real life application for. If you’re thinking it would be better to just give up and focus on surviving right now…
It is worth getting an education. I promise. It is.
Now back to the current application of my education… trying to understand how reaching 90 days post transplant and the end of our insurance company’s umbrella transplant pricing contract is going to change how services will be billed.
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.
The hospital internet is iffy today and things have been quiet. So a brief update. No biopsy results.. But that means no bad news yet. Patrick’s bleeding has stopped on the new meds and they started letting him eat as well as some small feeds today. His belly is still a bit unsettled. Brian and I are better.
Tonight, Patrick’s progress levels are high and he is acting like a child possessed, but only when we sit with him. On his own he is fine. He has one of his favorite nurses which should balance out the night.
They brought Patrick an easel and he had painted and played and napped and his school teacher came and gowned and gloved up to work with him to he was to tired to be productive. Oh, and Biscuit came and brought Patrick a book.
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.
Let me preface this blog post with a warning. You are reading a blog about intestines. Intestines make poop. Also, when intestines get sick, all kinds of bad things happen. Patrick got sick today. And we have blog followers who have enough medical need-to-know that I will be writing about yucky poopy things. If you don’t want to read about yucky poopy things, then know that Patrick was admitted to the hospital today with norovirus, an intestinal virus, that has made him very sick and with his compromised immune system is dangerous. We don’t know what this means for him or how long we will be here, but he is feeling yucky and scared, but so far ok.
Now, disclaimer done. Here is how today went. Patrick went to bed happy last night. In fact, so happy that he laid in bed and tried to learn about rhyming words with me for an hour. He was still sleeping well at 2:30 when I refilled his formula. But at 5:30, when he woke up, he sounded pretty unhappy. This is a usual time for him to request me to come lay with him. So I went and laid down with him and he slept until 6:30 when he started doing all kind of things that he knows hurt me and wake me up.
I am a slow learner and forget that this behavior means that Patrick is trying to get attention because something is wrong. He was obviously was exhausted, as we all were, so I kept trying to get him to sleep and he would for a few minutes at a time before pulling my hair or pinching my fingers or banging his hand down on my face again.
At 7:15 I decided that we weren’t going to get enough sleep if I got him back to sleep, given it was lab day, so I got out of bed. Something about Patrick’s smell made me think he needed to be cleaned up. So I took him immediately to shower, much to his displeasure.
Well, he wouldn’t stand up straight. Just kept leaning on everything and was very whiny and then, as I took off his diaper, I noticed that he was acting queasy and that his belly looked kind of round. I poked. It was hard.
So I grabbed a diaper and I told him I thought he needed to poop. He did. And he went and he went and in seconds the diaper was full and his legs were wet and, given that Patrick’s stool has been solid or at least mushy for weeks, I knew something was wrong.
But now he really needed a shower. And a shower actually seemed to make him feel better. Brian and I talked and decided that maybe Patrick had eaten something he was allergic to the night before, as he’d been in the mood to try all kinds of new foods.
So we got him dressed and watching TV on his bed and we cleaned up the room and got dressed. And at 8:30 his nurse came and he seemed fine.. But then we made him sit up so she could listen to his heart. And he threw up all over both of us.
She managed to get labs drawn, but by the time she left, we could tell that Patrick was more than just a little bit sick. So, I called and left a message for the team and we stripped the bed and started some laundry and got permission to eat in our room.
Finally, around 10, the nurse coordinator called me back and asked me what our instinct was. I told her it seemed like a virus. But that I didn’t know what that meant we should do. She consulted with the nurse practitioner who calls the shots, and then called back to say that they wanted him to come in.
Checking in wasn’t easy. Even years after our zip code was changed, the computer system here seems to hate our new zip code. It took over half an hour to get Patrick registered and meanwhile he had to go again, and made quite the puddle in both of our laps when his diaper leaked.. and he was trying his best not to throw up. And finally the woman at the desk called it good enough and brought us upstairs while Brian stayed to try to sort out the registration.
They did a full workup when we came in with cultures and viral panels and stool cultures. We just heard back that Patrick has norovirus. This is a pretty common and contagious stomach virus that, for many people, would cause an upset stomach for a day or two. It has a reputation for floating around the Ronald McDonald House.
For Patrick, on immune suppressants and with a brand new intestine, we don’t know what it will mean. For today, it means smelly liquid stool and nausea and a low-grade fever. He has spent the day laying in bed.. sleeping some. Whining a lot. Begging for water. And lying and saying that he is “all better” and “I feel great.” He’s on IV fluids and not allowed to eat or drink. Once he got an IV bolus of fluid, he started looking and feeling better. He is arguing over everything and saying “ow” or “stop that” over the slightest touches. (Not sure they hurt. He may just be defensive.) I think he’s finally past the initial anxiety of the hospital admission.
So the plan for now is to wait. There is no treatment for norovirus. Just need to make sure that he stays hydrated, that he absorbs his prograf properly, and that they watch for inflammation that might put his graft at risk. He’ll stay in the hospital, in isolation, until this virus passes.
The hospital is very full. We are in the last room, a tiny, outdated, smelly room with construction going on just the other side of the wall. This could be a long wait. But at least we have a room.
We are bummed that another daddy visit is being spent in the hospital.
I’m a little bit worried, knowing how contagious this bug is and just how many changes of clothes we’ve been through, that I am going to catch this and then I wonder just who will take care of Patrick if I can’t.
But only time will tell. We appreciate your ongoing prayers. We know that miracles are wrought by prayer. We have seen it over and over again in the past few months. So please keep those prayers coming.
Daddy is back!! Brian got back into town Saturday evening. Patrick couldn’t have been happier. And we’ve stayed busy all weekend.
Mostly, we’ve been busy cooking. If December is the most charitable month that they see at the Ronald McDonald House, January is its leanest. This week only had a couple of dinner groups scheduled. But there are a lot of donated turkeys and hams left over from the Christmas season. So last week, after having pretty good success last week making a ham and having the rest of the house help make side dishes, they offered us a turkey.
Sunday, we Brian helped get a turkey in the oven, and let’s be honest, did more than me watching it to make sure it came out ok. And then yesterday, we went shopping and got ingredients for Brian to cook pasta for the whole house, too. I’m wondering if he’s frustrated with having cooked large meals for large groups of people his first two nights here.
But the food was really AMAZING. And right now, there are only a handful of families living in the house who don’t have kids at the hospital and so if someone is going to be cooking, it is going to be us. It feels good to know we’re helping other people with something that we knew makes such a big difference. And we like the company for dinner, too.
Grocery shopping was just one of our adventures yesterday, though. Because yesterday was a holiday, Brian suggested that we treat it like one. So we went to the zoo. It has been beautiful here the past few days. 50 degrees or better. And so the zoo, of course, was crowded on a day off of school. However, it also meant that there were a lot of animals outside which made for a fun and different zoo experience. We got to see bears and rhinos, which have been inside on our last few trips to the zoo. And since we have been going often, we didn’t feel like we were missing out on some of the more crowded indoor exhibits.
And then, since going to the zoo wore him out, Patrick came back and even willingly took a nap.
Today Brian had to work again. He goes to the computer room down the hall where he can video conference and code. We meet for lunch and then he’s off at dinner time.
Meanwhile, Patrick and I went to feeding therapy this morning. Today, we took some lunch meat ham and the goal was to get Patrick to swallow some of it. It actually worked and Patrick is really excited about wrapping cheese in ham now. He swallowed some ham sandwich, too.
Then, we went grocery shopping. Patrick’s been anxious to go back to the store with kid sized shopping carts. So we went today to pick up some of his staples and to let him spend his tooth fairy money.
That’s right, Patrick lost his second tooth this week. I have been worried. It was loose, but an adult tooth had grown in behind and it still wasn’t coming out. Well, he’s fallen in love with his electric toothbrush and brushing his teeth. And a couple of nights ago, he brushed that loose tooth right out. It took some hunting and sweeping to find the tooth, but we did find it. And it only took a little convincing to persuade him that brushing his teeth wouldn’t knock them all out.
The other new thing this past few days is that there is another kindergarten age girl in the house right now. Her mom has been trying her best to keep her caught up with school work. We decided to try to combine forces. So while we wait for dinner each night, I bring down some of our mommy school things and they study together. They both are staying and working longer this way.
In other news, Patrick’s ostomy incision finally healed enough to not need to pack it with gauze anymore. Just cleaning it and covering it with a bandaid. And that means he can shower. He’s not too excited, but I feel like he gets so much cleaner that way than sponge baths.
Tonight is the first we’ve tried going without a nap since Daddy got into town and I’m questioning my choice. Patrick has been very grumpy. But it’s a tricky tradeoff between sleeping at night and being nice during the day. And I haven’t found a balance that makes him feel good enough to ignore the side effects of his medications. He’s either too sleepy or not sleepy enough and either way he is usually either angry or bouncing off the walls.
I keep thinking that we are going to finally get a routine and get past this. Sometimes I think that we just need to hang on and get home and then things will get better.
But in church this week, they said something that really struck a chord and I’m trying to put it into practice. The speaker reminded me that always waiting for something next to be happy doesn’t usually result in being happy. It just means always waiting. As Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught:
So many people today are waiting for their own golden ticket—the ticket that they believe holds the key to the happiness they have always dreamed about. . .
There is nothing wrong with righteous yearnings—we hope and seek after things that are “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy.”4 The problem comes when we put our happiness on hold as we wait for some future event—our golden ticket—to appear. . .
The happiest people I know are not those who find their golden ticket; they are those who, while in pursuit of worthy goals, discover and treasure the beauty and sweetness of the everyday moments. They are the ones who, thread by daily thread, weave a tapestry of gratitude and wonder throughout their lives. These are they who are truly happy.
So today, when I feel homesick, I’m checking myself and trying to be grateful and productive and happy in the moment I have been given.
Warm weather has meant exploring playgrounds. This one is a favorite
Good to see Patrick feeling strong enough to climb
This big flat swing is AWESOME for working on rebuilding Patrick’s core strength
We stopped after the playground a few nights ago at the Winter Quarters temple just at sunset. I like sunset. It tells me which way is west, and therefore home.
Patrick wasn’t happy with crowds at the zoo. So we had to go find a quiet corner where he could run
The long walk around the rhinos was the perfect place for Patrick to grab some independence and not walk with his parents
A very rare moment of calm. Patrick spotted a motor trend magazine in the therapy waiting room, sat down, and flipped through it.
Patrick Hoopes 