Transplant Day 41 and Home Away from Home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Transplant Day 37 and Saturday is a special day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Transplant day 36 and almost

A Christmas tree appeared in the playroom yesterday.  Patrick had a great time exploring its ornaments.
A Christmas tree appeared in the playroom yesterday. Patrick had a great time exploring its ornaments.

Well, Patrick had another spectacularly good day. We started with the goal of him getting out of bed by himself, since he’d climbed in by himself the day before. This was harder than expected, given his morning nausea.. But that information was helpful because I haven’t been able to tell if he actually needed zofran in the morning. We think he does and we made a plan to give it every day for a while. Hoping he starts his days off better…

Because once he’s up, he’s up. He had a great day yesterday. He’s up and around the room now. Physical therapy came by and we checked the fit of his walking brace that we had repaired. It was a bit shocking to me to see just how ill-fitted it is now. His muscles have diminished so much over the past month of bed rest. But wearing it as needed shouldn’t do him harm. And the goal now is to build those muscles back up.

So she got him up and we walked to the playroom and played with magnet letters for a while. Then when he was good and tired, we came back and took a nap.

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Overall, the day was chaos. Patrick is doing well enough to meet the criteria to be discharged from the hospital. Unfortunately, the levels of prograf (anti-rejection medicine) in his system have been either too high or too low. Until those levels stabilize, he needs to stay inpatient. The lab results were late coming back so for the morning, we got ready for discharge just in case. And in the afternoon, even though the level came back too low, we were still getting visits to discuss discharge planning. (I wish I could say this was more exciting, but we have been having discharge planning conversations off and on for a couple of weeks now.) It meant, though, that we had people in and out of the room and a lot of chaos all afternoon.

It also meant that I couldn’t leave the room to go do any shopping or laundry or other preparations for the weekend. I think this was the hardest part of an almost discharge. Being here alone means that I get very little time to get out of the room and to take care of those basic living needs for me. Once, maybe twice a day, a volunteer will come by for 1-2 hours. For the past several days, the team has had me spending those precious got-a-volunteer hours preparing for discharge. But that means that the other things haven’t gotten done and there aren’t other opportunities later to make up the difference.

So, since evenings are when there are no volunteers and the nursing staff is busy starting a new shift, I gave Patrick a choice of ideas for dinner. We decided it would be good to take him for a walk. Now remember that he has been riding in a wagon anytime he goes outside of the unit. Yesterday’s walk was about 6 times farther than he’s used to going. He was extremely winded by the time we got to the cafeteria. But he was a great sport about it. He even kept his mask on and washed his hands with hand sanitizer and let me clorox wipe his chair before he sat down.

We bought him some chips and me some sushi. In the end, he was too tired to eat, though.

We came back to the room and I was sure he was going to crash. We did his advent ornament craft while waiting for the nurse, then decided she wasn’t coming before evening meds. We video called daddy, then got ready to sleep.

But wouldn’t you know it, that’s when Patrick’s nurse came in. And I made the mistake of telling her that I hoped to make up for not getting away for laundry and/or shopping by going after Patrick went to sleep.

I’m not sure entirely that it was that.. it could have been the stuffy nose that the dry hospital air is causing.. or that Patrick could sense my growing anxiety. But last night, Patrick decided not to sleep. I tried everything I could think of. Finally, about 11 I gave up on my plans and just tried going to bed. A little before midnight, Patrick went to sleep.

I didn’t sleep great. I woke up several times trying to figure out how to get laundry done before we completely ran out of clean clothes and some things purchased that we’ll absolutely need by Monday.  I’ll blog again later today and you’ll see I found a couple of temporary solutions today. But I’m going to have to find a better way to balance time and a better or different way to use helpers. Because this method isn’t working and it appears that sneaking off in the middle of the night to make up the difference like some other moms do is not going to be an option.

Transplant Day 22 and Out of Bed

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When I arrived in the room this morning, Patrick was sore. He had woken up in pain during the night and he did NOT want to get up. He didn’t want a bath. He didn’t want to walk. He had overdone yesterday and was tired.

However, about half an hour after I got him a bath, clean clothes, some tylenol, a heat pack and then coaxed him into his wagon, his physical therapist Kirsten showed up. Because of the success of yesterday’s Blues Clues game, we decided to try it again. That was motivation enough to get up. Patrick was hunting clues when the transplant team showed up for rounds. We walked right through rounds several times this morning, much to their delight.

Kirsten also showed Patrick that there is a mailbox on the outside of the playroom. She made him some pretend letters and they played putting them in and out of the box. (Making him squat and reach.)

Well, after therapy, Patrick was tired and decided to sit in his wagon and play games on his cell phone. It lasted for a while and I was able to make a few important phone calls and then Patrick was ready to get up and move again. I agreed to help him play Blues Clues one more time. Well, we got out in the hall and the social worker came by to talk about some questions I had. While we talked, Patrick got bored. And so he started to just wander around and play and… well, he realized that there was no reason for him to be staying in bed.

So, Patrick got up and started exploring and playing in his room. He played till 3 and cried when me made him stop to nap. Then he slept for 3 hours straight. (Yes, all that play wore him out.) Anyway… it’s nice to have our adventurous little boy back. And also, that is probably the end of our quiet peaceful days in the hospital.

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Medical updates from the day: In rounds today they told us that the ulcers seen during Patrick’s scope might just be irritation from all this new gut has gone through. They are not worried.

They started adding some saline solution to Patrick’s feeds today, which increases the volume of his feeds. We hope that it will make it so he doesn’t need IV hydration. We just need to see if he can tolerate the extra volume in his feeds. So far, so good.

In other GREAT news, we found out today that Patrick has gotten pending approval for patient assistance for his antiviral drug, Valcyte. This one is only covered by my insurance in pill form and, uncovered, its price tag is over $1000/month. This approval is temporary and requires that we appeal the insurance company’s decision. However, it is a HUGE weight off of my mind.

And on that note, let’s make tonight’s educational series about medications. Patrick is going to be on a variety of medications as a result of his transplant. They include:

Prograf: To prevent rejection. At first, these are going to be very high levels, which means he will be very immune surpressed. The days of letting him lick the sidewalks as part of childhood are over. We are trading that in for lots of isolation and hand washing and mask wearing. He’ll be on this the rest of his life.

Prednisolone: Is a steroid that also prevents rejection. It also suppresses his immune system. It makes him grumpy and impulsive and sometimes makes it hard to sleep and makes his face a little bit rounder. And he won’t be on this long-term. These two drugs make it so Patrick can’t really control his anger. He’s happy most of the time, but when he’s not, the only way to help is to walk away because being there just feeds the crazy feeling. This has been hard, especially at night.

Valcyte: This protects him from a virus called CMV or cytomegalovirus that is almost unnoticable in you or me but has serious repercussions in people with surpressed immune systems. It’s crazy expensive but also crazy important given how much of Patrick’s immune system they wiped out. He’ll need it for at least a year.

Bactrim: An antibiotic to prevent pneumonia. He’ll need this till they back off the immune suppression.

Penicillin: Another antibiotic he’ll be on for his entire life because he doesn’t have a spleen.

Ranitidine (or Omeprazole): to reduce acid and his digestive system heal. He may need this for life.

Norvasc: To help fix the high blood pressure all these other drugs cause. He’ll need it till this problem goes away.

Lasix: Because for some reason, Patrick’s body likes to hold onto too much fluid since transplant. Just needs it till the problem goes away.

He’s also allowed Tylenol for pain. (But no ibuprofen again.) He’s also given a multivitamin in his formula. And some sodium bicarbonate (baking soda) to keep his CO2 levels right. And some saline solution for hydration. And right now, he can have a medicine for nausea.. but hasn’t needed it in a few days.

He can’t miss doses… But honestly, this is a much easier sounding regimen than I imagined it would be in our pre-transplant training. Just every 12 hours and keeping track of a few due only on certain days. The pharmacy team has come a couple of times to train us on all this… But even they have decided that our experience makes this not all that difficult compared to what we are used to.

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Transplant Day 14 and Daddy’s back

I think our biggest news of the day is that Brian got back from his short trip. Patrick and I were so glad to see him that I’m afraid we didn’t let him do anything else.. Just play with or cuddle Patrick. Patrick was so happy to see him.

Otherwise, just continued forward progress on the same milestones. Increased feeds. Walked a little farther with a little less support. Sat up a lot more with a lot less pain. Decreased pain medicines.

I shopped for home health companies today. I guess it’s kind of uncommon for the patient to call up and say “I want to make sure you can get me the following supplies.” Usually, setting up home healthcare is something the hospital just takes care of for you. But I wanted to be sure that we would have access to all the things that make Patrick’s life better. I think we found a good fit. Just one more tiny step towards our next goal.

Tonight was movie night in the hospital. The literally put out a red carpet. Then, they set up a conference room to look like a movie theater, complete with boxed candies, popcorn, pretzels and pop. Patrick has only been to a movie in a theater once. I wasn’t sure how this would go.. But thankfully the movie was Planes Fire & Rescue, which had that “I love cars” appeal. He did a lot better than I expected. Guess he’s 1)growing up and 2) not feeling great so screen time has a greater appeal.

I was talking with another family yesterday. We decided that adults could learn a lot from the way that kids do illness. I mean, imagine if you had to go to the hospital. Would you prefer to just sit in your drab hospital room reading? Or would you prefer to have a room all decorated in bright fun things, to have someone bring you your favorite hobbies every day, and to have a low-key party once a day? Wouldn’t you find getting better easier that way? Kids know what they’re doing. We grown-ups are the ones getting it wrong.

Another milestone: Patrick willingly went to sleep in his bed while I laid in the parent bed across the room. He is feeling more at home here.

2 weeks ago tonight our transplant team was looking at a transplant offer deciding if it was time to call and wake us up and tell us to come. Patrick is doing so well for just 2 weeks in.

 

 

Transplant day 11 and a tired tummy

IMG_20141110_184332Still moving forward today. G-tube feeds went well overnight and so they doubled the rate to 10 cc/hour this morning. So far, so good.

The physical therapist came by and she was very pleased by how well Patrick is doing. In fact, most of our talk was a reminder to me of how important it is to watch and slow Patrick down for a little while so he doesn’t accidentally open his incision.

He’s slowed himself down a fair amount anyway, though. He kind of overdid yesterday and his sides are hurting today. So we did a lot more resting and gave more pain medicine. He did still walk to the playroom and sit at his desk. He also napped a lot and rested in his wagon.

We asked the woman from child life for help finding a volunteer to get me back to our room for a shower, change of clothes, and a filling meal. Well, the first volunteer showed up at 1. I was actually a bit upset because it was earlier than I expected.. but I went and it was good to get clean and to rest. And it was good that Brian got to spend a little bit of time working and taking care of other things today, too.

Meanwhile, the sweet grandma-like lady who shuffled me out for a break watched Patrick while he napped, put on movies for him, and then took him to music therapy.

Patrick came back from music therapy grinning from ear to ear, laughing and talking about the drums and “ma-ca-cas.” He had a great time.

However, then new volunteers just kept coming. We sent the ones who came at 3 away. But at 5, we let them stay and went to the store for a few needed things and then out to dinner. And now i know that I need to be careful what I ask for in a hospital where spending time with the cute 6 year old is the appealing task on the job list. Actually, I think I’m going to come to really rely on those volunteers to help me take care of myself. The combination of tired, head-achy and hungry had me quite unhappy this afternoon.  It is so nice that there are people willing to come in and help me with Patrick so I can take care of me, too.

One clarification that I was asked. I have been saying they “clamped Patrick’s stomach”… what I really meant was that they closed the clamp on the drain from Patrick’s stomach. No actual clamps on bellies.

Transplant Day 7 and the tooth fairy

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This picture kind of tells most of the big news of the day. Look closely and you’ll see a few things.

1) Patrick was able to wean off of oxygen to room air during the night last night. That means no more nasal cannula.

2) They decided that his g-tube was providing sufficient drainage for his belly. He’s still having bleeding, but no apparent side effects. They have been trying to clamp his belly periodically throughout the day. If things continue going well, they’ll start feeds through his belly soon.

3) Patrick lost his first tooth. We noticed a loose tooth a week ago as Patrick was leaving his class Halloween party. When he went to the OR, the anethesiologist said he’d pull it so it wasn’t a choking risk. Then the report came back that it wasn’t loose enough yet. Well, today it was quite wiggly. And tonight, as I was putting Patrick to bed I noticed it was missing.

He was terrified. He thought something really bad had happened and insisted we needed to press the nurse call to take care of this big emergency. It took a while to calm him down. Then his nurse came in and helped me make a big deal about it. We called some other family so he could tell them and after a little bit of celebration, was proud and not scared. We’ve told him the tooth fairy will take care of finding it in his bed and he’s excited about finding some coins there.

Other big moments of the day: Patrick had his first scope. This is the entire reason that Patrick has an ostomy right now.. so they can easily look inside and check his intestine for rejection. They brought the scope right to the bedside. Patrick was pretty worried, especially as this happened first thing in the morning. But the doctors did a great job of putting him at ease, showing off the equipment, etc. Because there aren’t pain nerves in the intestine, they can just do the scope right at the bedside… Just slip in the scope, look around, take a biopsy and done. The longest amount of time was spent taking off Patrick’s ostomy bag so they could easily reach where they needed to.

He was downright adorable the whole time.. and when they sent a puff of air in to open the intestine (they said this might be uncomfortable), Patrick just giggled and said it tickled. Whew! We are doing those at least weekly for the next month and then very regularly for up to a year.. and so it was a huge relief that he wasn’t scared by it.

Really, our only scary moment today was walking. Physical therapy came and because we’d had all the excitement of a scope, a bath, two tubes and lots of adhesive removed all in the wee hours of the morning, Patrick was just plain tired. Also, with all of that going on, I don’t think they had been very consistent with pain medicine. Anyway, he made it out to the goal they’d set and was doing so well, they decided to push for a few more feet. Only, he was hurting and didn’t want to go 2 more feet. He just sat down on the floor and cried. (This is a problem on so many levels when it comes to protecting an incision and protecting an immune system.) It took a good 10 minutes to coax him into walking back to the room and then, only with me hugging him the whole way.

We’ll try again tomorrow.

Really, it was a pretty good day overall. He napped for almost 3 hours on my lap after his walk.. then I took a break and went back to my room for my own nap. We’ve played all evening and are just getting ready for bed.

One more thought, though.. Mail time is quickly becoming our best time of day. Patrick loves opening all of his birthday cards.. Some of the messages and other gifts leave me in tears. We should be moving out of the ICU soon and plan to plaster the walls with them. I’m not sure there will be even an inch of spare space.

I can’t believe that a week ago at this time, Patrick’s team was getting a call that Patrick had been matched with a donor for a long-anticipated transplant. It breaks my heart to consider what the donor family was going through at that moment while we, completely unaware, were putting the finishing touches on Patrick’s birthday present and plans. How quickly life can change.

I’ve shared it before, but this song and video have been in my thoughts often this week as I consider the selfless sacrifice in the midst of devastating loss. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J44vAOp1BmM&feature=share

How can I help?

Yesterday when we were checking into the Ronald McDonald house, our host asked where we were from. When we said Utah, he said, “Oh! Mormon country!”… Then after a pause told us he’d just come back from Utah after helping to settle some kids who’d been through a really rough time. “Mormons really take care of their own.”

We can testify from our own experience that that is true. And yet, our amazing friends, family, and congregation are always asking what more they can do. One of the questions we hear most during these long difficult stretches is “How can I help?”

So, in tribute to all of you, and in answer to the dozens of people who have asked for ways to help over the past few weeks, I thought I’d pass our waiting room time bragging about some of the ways we’ve been helped over the years.

1. Visits.. It doesn’t matter if we’re at home or in the hospital. A new person always lightens and lifts the mood. For example, last hospital stay one of our friends was brought to the hospital for work and found herself with some extra time. She texted and asked if it was a good time to stop by. She came and, because Patrick needed out of the room, we walked down to the playroom. That’s when we discovered his line had broken and we turned around and headed back to the room. She walked with us, and as nurses swarmed the room to help the problem, noticed that the breakfast cart had come. So she went and picked up a muffin and milk for me.

I share this story for two reasons. First, it shows that you might just dive into chaos and wonder if you’re in the way. The truth is that Patrick talks about who visited all day long, whether the visit was at a “good time” or not, whether we actually had time to chat and play or not.

When we got home, another friend came to visit and brought a few new toys and a balloon. (New distractions are always a big help). Patrick’s talking about that visit a week later.

We get lonely. We get sick of each other. We need our days broken up. We may not be great hosts, but just your presence helps.

2. Food. In the Mormon world, bringing food is something we’re exceptional at. And believe it or not, it really helps. On the return from one hospital stay, a friend showed up with a pan of uncooked enchiladas. It was a few days later when we got to cooking them, but it was so nice to have a prepared meal in the fridge. Once we returned home from a trip to find a pizza on the porch. And you may remember when we charged a cookie entrance fee to visit Patrick in the PICU. Those cookies were needed sugar during time when we rarely wanted to leave Patrick’s side, and a lot of fun to share with nurses and other hospital staff and patients as we had so many of them that we couldn’t eat them all.

In the hospital, lunches are especially challenging for me. I often can’t get out of the room to get something to eat. Once, I picked up the phone to order room service to the ER 10 times in an hour and never could stay on the phone long enough to place an order. I often just skip lunch when Patrick is hospitalized. But I’m a grumpy bear when I’m hungry. Food helps me be a better mom.

If you really want to make my day when we’re in the hospital, show up with a sandwich or some snacks. (Do you know there was once when Patrick ran a fever and wanted me to lay in bed with him for 48 hours and the only food I ate were the snacks friends delivered?)

I love our family who faithfully pack Sunday picnic lunches to eat on the patio? Even though the medflight helicopters blow all of the food away when they take off and land? And I love my mom who often things to bring along things like fresh fruit and vegetables.

3. Play time. You’d have to not be looking to miss that Patrick is a VERY active and playful little boy. He wants to be doing something every moment and if he gets bored can stumble into trouble very quickly. One of the biggest helps for me is when someone will come to play.

For this entire summer, my next door neighbor’s youngest daughter has been coming over to play with Patrick. She has so much more energy than me and is more than happy to push him all around the backyard in his stroller to make him laugh, or to read books, or to do crafts. We’ve even taken a couple of field trips to a nearby splash pad. Because Patrick’s an only child, having another child to play with is an amazing gift for him. And for me? It gives me a short break from being the one who thinks of fun things to do.

Playdates are an amazing help. The patient practice Patrick gets playing with other kids. Often they come at moments where you may wonder why we’re crazy enough to go out, but it offers just the break and distraction we needed.

I’ve had teenagers come to play while I did dishes and another friend come bring the most amazing craft and science projects.  I’ve even had friends ride along to doctor’s appointments to play with Patrick in the waiting room. Patrick is so happy to have the company.. And any opportunity to wipe down counters, fold some laundry, load a dishwasher without little helping hands helps me.

4. Help with the chores. That brings me to my next topic. Chores. I always have more things on my to do list than I have done. Especially since conversations with doctors, appointments, hands-on medical care, and quality time with Patrick trump household duties quite often.

My little sister is awesome about this. She often comes by in the afternoon after school or work and helps me put the toys back in the toybox, sweep, prep dinner, iron, etc. If Patrick wakes up while we’re working, she takes him to play and lets me finish.

When Patrick was coming home from the NICU, a “cleaning crew” from our church came and sanitized the house. And one sweet lady took about a dozen shirts from me, ironed them, and brought them back to put away. I’ve had people take home our laundry, wash, and return it. We’ve had neighbors water and mow our lawn, pick up our mail, bring in our garbage cans. And on and on.

It makes a home feel so peaceful when it is clean. And often, helping me clean is easier than helping with Patrick.

5. Help in medical moments. I have to give a special shout out to friends, neighbors, and family who have stepped up and learned to do things they never imagined they’d need. You have prepped TPN, given meds through a g-tube, changed countless central line dressings, restrained Patrick so I could change a button, clamped off broken lines, treated allergic reactions, caught vomit, changed diapers with our crazy diaper cream regimen, sat with a febrile little boy so I could pack a hospital bag, and on and on. And, in what is the one of the smallest and biggest things you do, you have carried Patrick’s backpack while he explored so we could sit down.

We are a part of a very, very lucky and small minority of special-needs, and especially short gut, parents who have not just one but several people we can call on in these moments. Because of you, we still make it to the temple sometimes, catch a hockey game, see a movie, and go on dates. You make it so he can go to Primary at church with the other children. You get me to the dentist. You let me nap.

5. Listen. You read my blog. You follow us on facebook. You help us troubleshoot. (Like the onesie pattern that Brian’s mom and I developed over the years to keep his line and button safe at night… or the countless little issues solved by brainstorming with other short gut families online.) You chat. You call. You stop and give me a hug and let me cry without saying anything at all.

6. Prayer. And, when you can do nothing more, you pray for us. I have felt us lifted up by your prayers. I have felt the peace of your prayers. And I have seen countless medical miracles because of your prayers. Thank you for thinking of us, praying for us, and keeping our names on prayer rolls and in prayer groups and flickering in the flame of sacred candles.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! How would we have made it this far without you?

And thank you for continuing to offer your help. I hope this brag list helps answer your question of how you can (or already do) help.

The devil you know vs. the devil you don’t

Patrick and I had the most frustrating of mornings yesterday. Got up as usual and started out happy enough, but then it was time to connect his 8 a.m. antibiotic. I went to withdraw the ethanol lock out of his line and it wouldn’t come. Tried to flush. Wouldn’t budge.

So I grabbed a dose of Cathflo (the super declotting agent for central lines that I am learning I am VERY lucky to be allowed to administer by myself at home.) Worked it into the line, which took me almost half an hour. I left it in for half an hour.. drew back and the line drew back beautifully.

Tried to flush, and nothing. Let go, and the syringe filled with blood.

Not good. I tried several more times and just got the same result. The antibiotic was due. The TPN was running. The two can’t go through the same tube at the same time. And I was stuck.

So I called the hospital and asked for the GI on call, but they wouldn’t give them to me because it was almost 9 a.m. and the GI clinic opened at 9. So I called Patrick’s nurse, and she was stumped. She called the department at the hospital that specialized in central line repairs, and they were stumped.

Finally, Dr. Jackson’s nurse got word I was calling and called me back. And she was stumped.

It really seemed like the blood was flowing backwards in the line.. out instead of in. Which either meant a slipped placement.. or a line broken under the skin.

Both line killers.

So – while they did their research, I did the only thing I could think. I said a prayer. I put one more dose of TPA in the line. I forwarded our home number to my cell phone. Then, I packed Patrick up and we went to mommy-and-me exercise class. Makes sense, right? We needed some normal, and some distraction. And it was his last guaranteed chance to go to class before school.

Halfway through exercise class, as I was sweating and huffing and puffing… in the middle of the popcorn song where we jump all around the room pretending to be popcorn… my phone rang.

It was Dr. Jackson’s nurse telling me that they’d arranged an admission to the Rapid Treatment Unit. The plan was to evaluate the problem, do an x-ray if possible, have the IV team look at things. And then, she said, it didn’t look good.

I hung up and stayed till the end of exercise class. Why not?

Then we came home, I showered, and I packed a suitcase to see us through a one day hospital stay and a likely surgery.

We rushed up the hospital, lugged our way into the RTU, got vitals, met our nurse…

And then tested the line.

And the 2nd dose of TPA had fixed the problem. Best bet? That the clot was working like a stopper that allowed blood to flow in, but not to flush. Kind of the opposite of usual line function. And that it was blood trapped in the line that was flowing back after attempts to flush… Not the line bleeding as it appeared.

We called it a nurse visit. The doctor came to “not” consult with me, so we wouldn’t be billed for the service. He’s seen us struggle to keep this malfunctioning line going for the past 15 months.

I asked him if he’d give up and replace it yet. Knowing the risks of lost access for Patrick.

He shrugged and told me, “It’s the devil you know versus the devil you don’t.”

How often that is true with Short Gut. How often do we weigh the choice between the familiar but uncomfortable present situation and the risk of an uncertain outcome?

The choice about transplant is certainly that kind of a thing.

It takes a lot of faith and prayer and hope and stepping into the darkness to move along this journey.

And a lot of mornings derailed by emergency hospital admissions that leave dirty dishes and dirty laundry and a mountain of other unfinished tasks while we wrestle with uglier demons.

Brian and I have been doing a lot of pondering and praying to know what is the best choice about this troublesome line.

If you’re praying for us, that would be a good thing to pray for. For us to know whether to keep fighting with this line or take the risk of swapping it out in the hopes of fewer infections and clots and frustrating mornings.

Not again!

Here’s the ultimate test of the value of the switch to wordpress. I am trying a quick blog to update everyone everywhere about what’s going on.

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Taken a couple of weeks ago, during our last admission. He’s watching the construction going on outside the window.

So, quick version.. About 3 weeks ago Patrick had a really bad few days. His stomach was upset. He had a hard time concentrating. He was in a BAD mood and into everything. It went on long enough that even though his labwork didn’t show any signs of trouble, I requested a set of blood cultures and skipped a nap to drive all the way to the hospital to get them done.

And then, that night, as I was getting Patrick ready for bed, I checked his temperature and discovered he had a fever. We called his doctor and came up to the hospital.

We were here 6 days, our longest stay in over a year, because it took forever to get the infection to respond to the treatment. (For various reasons I may or may not expound on later.) And because it took an extra long time to get the right antibiotic dose. It was a frustrating stay because he never got horribly sick, but he had staph epi in his line and it’s notoriously hard to clear. And the longer it took to clear, the more the doctors wanted to try a different approach (understandably.)

And, well, because the night shift just couldn’t manage to help him sleep through the night. But that’s a gripe for another day.

I’m afraid I jinxed us. One of the dramatic changes the doctors wanted to do to be sure to clear the infection was to switch from using ethanol to using vancomycin, a targeted antibiotic, to protect the line.

I raised more than a little bit of a stink. I insisted that we still use ethanol at least 4 hours a day. I made the attending come discuss it with me. And I won.

But i felt guilty. And when we went home, I did my best to follow doctors orders and put a heavy preference on vanco locks over ethanol.

Fastforward to today. For the 2 weeks since bringing Patrick home, I’ve been giving antibiotics every 8 hours.. including a dose at midnight. Tonight was supposed to be our last night.

Patrick’s cousins are in town and we’ve been having a grand family party. Aquarium trip. Hiking in the mountains. And today they rented a bounce house.

Patrick and I were very excited about today. Only one matter of business to take care of. A visit to his physical therapist. We have been waiting for MONTHS for a new DAFO (brace) for his foot to help with his worsening muscle tightness. And, Patrick has been dying to show his therapist how he’s learned to ride a tricycle.

Well – we got to the therapy office. And we got in the elevator. And Patrick’s breathing got a little shallow. And he gave a little shiver. And a hundred memories rushed back into my mind and I knew something was wrong. I remembered what a bad and out of sorts day he had yesterday, how his tummy was upset, how he had a hard time concentrating and kept getting into trouble.

So the elevator doors opened and I didn’t get off. Pushed the down button and went straight to the family clinic on the first floor. And I asked for a thermometer.

A nurse came out and checked and at first his temp was normal, but she rechecked and got 99.0. In his low ear.

So, we hopped in the elevator and went back upstairs to cancel our appointment.

Patrick was distraught. He didn’t want to be sick. He wanted to see Miss Holly.

Well, Miss Holly came out and I explained what was happening and she explained that the brace company had rejected the cast we’d sent as a model for his foot and asked her to recast. If we missed this appointment, it would be another month without a brace.

So – we made a deal. I’d call the hospital, she’d cast his foot to get a mold for the brace. Patrick would, well, try to cry more quietly.

By the time we left the therapy office, Patrick was sold on going to the hospital. So, we hurried home. Checked a temp. 101.8 this time. 15 minutes later. I grabbed the transplant go bag because I didn’t want to waste time packing, gave him some tylenol, and we booked it up to the ER.

The tylenol worked. Mostly. His fever was the same when we arrived.

And so, here we are. We are antibiotics to cover all the major bacteria, and an antifungal. I threw a bit of a momma bear tantrum when they tried to tell me they didn’t think we needed the antibiotic that kills his recurring kleibsiella bacteria.

He doesn’t feel well. He is tired. He only napped for 10 minutes. We have tried going for walks and in the end, he just prefers to lay in the bed.

And so, here we are. Hoping culture results are fast and clear. Hoping we are giving him the right drugs. Wondering how we’re going to make tomorrow bearable.

Just like every summer.

Mid-July rolls around and I start to get nervous. And I hate that we are here because I don’t want to be superstitious about certain months. But for some reason, summers are always hard for Patrick.

And so, I’m quite discouraged tonight. I am sad to be missing out on my first-of-the season tomatoes that I harvested this week and the green beans on my plants waiting for harvest and the great big yummy yellow zucchini sitting in the fridge. I hate that Patrick and I had finally hit our stride again, finally had a routine again, finally were catching up on the chores again. (Does anyone want to iron a month’s worth of dress shirts?)… And now we are starting over all over again.

But at least it is 10:30 and I can go to sleep because tonight giving the antibiotics on time is someone else’s responsibility.