Transplant day 4

IMG_20141103_114027 IMG_20141103_164934Today was a hard day for Patrick. It seemed to start out ok. His nurse overnight did a great job keeping him comfortable. At 6 he was well rested and talkative, though a little sad. His nose was itchy and when he rubbed it, the cannula in his nose rubbed just enough to make it bleed.  His oxygen saturation was low, so we had to suction his nose, too, which is pretty awful for him. But, with Daddy cuddling, all was good for a few hours. Until they wanted him up to walk. That hurt.

When he got to the chair (about 2 feet away), he was sore and tired, but in good enough spirits that he dared work himself down into his favorite snuggly sleep position. That’s when the trouble started. Snuggling down made his oxygen saturation dip even lower. Soon, his nurse came back to suction his nose, really thoroughly this time. He was hysterical.  And, it didn’t help.

So they decided to call for a chest x-ray and his nurse had him walk back to his bed for it. He was already sore from fighting the suction and walking was agony.  But when he was done walking, he still had to sit up straight on the bed and have an x-ray taken. And I had to step out of the room while they did it.

Unfortunately, that x-ray showed that Patrick has gunk in his lungs and fluid buildup around his lungs. (They run a ton of extra fluid in the first couple of days after a transplant to make sure the veins stay open and happy so the graft will take… All that fluid has been just sitting in Patrick’s tissues and he was rather plump and sore this morning.)

They’d already started him on a medication to help him get rid of the fluid. They decided to order some medicine to help him cough. Patrick is refusing to cough. So they gave something IV and then brought a mask to administer a breathing treatment with.

That was the end. Patrick didn’t want a mask on his face. (I’m sure he’s seen enough of them in the OR.) He toughed it out the first few 10 second tries I did for him… But then he decided to fight… And when I tried to help hold him because he was fighting… Well, he lost it. Kicking, screaming, squirming, fighting with all his strength. This is amazing considering how little strength he has. But it surely left him worn out.

The breathing treatment didn’t work. They had to increase his oxygen several times to get things stable. Patrick was spent. He just sat there, not moving, not talking. I finally told the doctor that this wasn’t like him. We were going backward if he’d lost his words again.

They listened. They let him rest. They added some pain medications. They ordered a different kind of breathing treatment that just gently massages his sides to break up the junk in his lungs. And he has done better. He’s seeming calm. He’s slept a bit. His vital signs look a little bit better. And I’ve learned my lesson about letting them push him. Patrick is not one to be pushed.  Challenged, yes.. But not compelled. I won’t let tomorrow go this way.

The hardest thing about the day is how just plain sad Patrick was. Because it was Monday, we had a parade of people in and out all day introducing themselves: social work, ostomy team. nurse coordinators, child life, and on, and on. And all the while Patrick just sat there looking like he wanted to cry but with a firm determination he wasn’t going to cry in front of anyone. And anytime I tried to talk to him about it, either his oxygen saturation would drop or someone new would come in.

He’s figured out he has an ostomy. (Where the intestine is brought outside the abdomen in one spot and drains into a bag.) He needs this so they can monitor for rejection for a year. I’m sure he’s confused. But anytime I’d try to help explain, there was one more person. Always trying to cheer him up. Some days, you don’t want to be cheered up. Some days you need to cry.

I think the treatment plan is better now. I’ll spend the night in the room tonight to keep an eye on things and to help him feel comforted. Tomorrow is another day. (And hopefully a good one, as tomorrow Brian goes home to get what Patrick and I need to stay here for a while and I’m gonna be on my own.)

We did have some good things in the day. Brian made it to Walmart which means we have food and socks (only I packed socks in the hurry to leave) and slippers for Patrick and some other needs. We got a lot of answers to questions we’ve had from the people who came by and called.  I got time to get some of the e-mails and phone calls taken care of to tie up loose ends at home.

And in a very special bright spot, Patrick received 35 e-cards today. How amazing it was to read words of encouragement and support from friends and family and also from people we have never before met. I’ll admit, that is what got me through the moment today when my heart was breaking.

Thank you. Thank you!

Patrick’s Getting a Transplant – Day 1 (and a half)

Last night, as Brian and I were turning off the lights to go to sleep, my cell phone rang in my hand. I looked at the caller ID and my heart skipped a beat. It was the transplant team. It was 10:30 p.m. It took me 2 rings to get the courage to answer.

Patrick’s transplant coordinator asked how his health had been, and then she told me that she was calling because they had received an offer for donor organs for Patrick.

I thought I’d be excited when this call came. I was not. I wanted to shout “NO” and hang up the phone. Patrick has been having a very good year. His health has been good. He is loving kindergarten and for the first time has had friends his age. I’d just helped to a Halloween party in his class. It was a hit and he’d had a great time. We’ve gotten in to one of the best mental health programs in the state and were making good progress with his attention and behavior. We’d been trying a medication for his ADHD and it was a hard adjustment, but it seemed to be helping. He’s been learning to read. And I just planned his birthday cake and finished wrapping his presents.

Did I want to change any of that!? NO!

But at the same time, we know a very hard truth. Patrick has been defying odds as he lives with a terminal illness. There is a reason they let us do a wish trip. Patrick is running out of access. His intestines have been redilating and sooner or later would need surgery again. Patrick has been living on borrowed time.

We have said for 5 years that transplant would come at the right time for Patrick. Why that time happened to be during one of the happiest seasons of his life, I don’t know. BUT it did. And we couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Who knows when it would come again.

Getting ready to go was a chaotic mess. We had bags packed for us, but needed to pack Patrick’s things. We needed to call insurance and the doctors and somehow get to Primary Children’s, then to Life Flight and then to the Nebraska Medical Center. We needed to gather family to say goodbye and get blessings. And we were supposed to do it in 6 hours.

We didn’t do it in 6 hours. I was too confused. The hospital and Life Flight couldn’t agree.. And it took extra time. And it was ok.

 

Patrick's doctor- with us since we got to Utah, almost as much family as physician
Patrick’s doctor- with us since we got to Utah, almost as much family as physician

We got to the hospital a little after midnight. There, we were met by Patrick’s amazing GI who had come in and stayed up just for us. He wrote orders and then saw us off.

We got to the airport and were met by two amazing nurses and a pilot. Patrick had to ride lying on a gurney, but they managed to make it fun enough that, even though we’d woken him 2 hours after he went to bed (on a day he hadn’t napped), he laughed and played and was ok.

The Life Flight and ambulance teams
The Life Flight and ambulance teams

We arrive at the hospital around 6 a.m. and were shown into the PICU. There was some bustle of admission, but things were pretty quiet. Before long, Patrick had snuggled up and fallen asleep. And so did I.

Eventually, they came for some labs. We let him open his birthday present. Then, Child Life came by and asked if he needed a Halloween costume. As I’d left his awesome purple minion costume at home, we borrowed a Buzz Lightyear. It barely fit, but he was happy. And it came just on time, as the Nurse Practioner told us just then to let him up to move around. We made it out just on time to go trick or treating. Each department of the hospital put together mostly non-food goodies. Patrick happily went to each of them saying “Happy Halloween” and being showered with gifts. He came away with quite the haul. We even made the news.

http://launch.newsinc.com/share.html?trackingGroup=69017&siteSection=ndn&videoId=28082677

Trick or treating in a borrowed costume (with accessories)
Trick or treating in a borrowed costume (with accessories)

About 2/3 around the room of trick or treats, we got a call that they wanted Patrick back in the room for a procedure. We made a hurried run back to the room where they explained that they wanted him to go to interventional radiology to try to place another line. That sounded like a request to do the impossible. It turns out it was hard, but possible. Patrick currently has 6 lumens.

Going down early for this meant that Patrick would need to be intubated and sedated earlier than we expected. It wasn’t worth the risk to wake him up again. So I used the little time that we had before sending him down to try to explain to him what would happen. I could tell he didn’t get it. I could tell he was scared.

But it was time to go. So we did all we could to tell him we loved him and help him feel brave, and then we walked him to the procedure room and kissed him goodbye.

 

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He spent the afternoon intubated and asleep. He woke a little once and made a furious fight to take the breathing tube out of his throat. It took several people to keep him safe until they were able to get some more meds to settle him down. Hard, hard moment.

But the rest of the day was peaceful. With him asleep, they were able to get the other catheters and lines in that they will need to be able to monitor and take care of him during and after the surgery.

Finally, around 6 p.m. they came to take him to the O.R. We sat a bit on pins and needles till them, because until the organs arrived here and were inspected, there is always the chance of the transplant not going through.

It’s 9 p.m. now. The last update said that they were finishing putting in the liver and were just about to start putting in the other organs.

It has been a very emotional day. We have shed tears of fear and of hope and of grief and of joy. We have celebrated a birthday and Halloween and then said goodbye to our son for an indefinite amount of time. We have doubted ourselves, and we’ve been given flashes of reminders of faith. We have been touched again and again by the encouraging words of our family and friends and even of strangers.

Once again, we find our lives entirely overturned. I honestly don’t know how we are going to do this. But I am trusting it is going to be ok.

 

I’d like your help with something, if you don’t mind. Patrick’s birthday celebration got cut short when they took him early to place that line. I’d love for him to wake up to a room full of birthday wishes. Would you consider mailing a birthday card or sending an e-card? Mail to:

Patrick Hoopes
Patient Mail
Room # 5349
P.O. Box 6159
Omaha, NE 68106-0159

or you can send an e-card that will be printed and delivered to him http://www.nebraskamed.com/patients/well-wishers