Tag: University of Nebraska Medical Center

Transplant Day 3,653 – That’s Ten Years!!

Ok. Technically, this is being written several days after day 3,653. That’s because we just got home from a week celebrating in Disneyland. That was Patrick’s pick, but there really isn’t any better place to celebrate magic, dreams, wishes.

This has been a really emotional week… month… fall?..!!

I always get nostalgic in October. This year, even more so, however. That has a lot to do with transplant. We took Patrick’s trip for his annual checkup early because we wanted to celebrate his transplant anniversary over his birthday. It just happened that we were there over the same week he’d taken his wish trip ten years before. Then, just a few weeks ago, my niece had a baby boy who spent 20 days in the NICU, so we have spent a lot of time in and out of that familiar setting again.

There have been a lot of reminders around what was already bound to be a very nostalgic anniversary.

Getting ready for our trip, I stayed up late wrapping Patrick’s birthday presents so he could open then in the morning right before we left. We’ve been so busy with work, school, family, and getting ready that I just ran out of time.

I try not to put off wrapping the presents. The night before Patrick’s transplant, I also stayed up late wrapping his presents because the week had been busy and I hadn’t gotten to it. I’d just wrapped those presents, gotten in bed, and switched out the lights when my phone rang and the caller ID lit up with the number of the transplant hospital. That number at 10 p.m. could only mean one thing… And I didn’t want to take that call on my little boy’s birthday eve.

Still, we packed the presents that could travel and we went.

I was so afraid to take that call. It was so scary to say yes, to pack our bags, to wake our little boy, and to fly all night to turn our little boy over to an uncertain fate.

Family photo taken just before Patrick went for transplant October 2014

One of the hardest things about intestinal transplant was that, with TPN, you aren’t actively getting sicker. You don’t see a child who is getting visibly sicker the longer they are on the transplant list. In fact, Patrick seemed so healthy. He was having one of the best years of his life. He was loving kindergarten.

Health doesn’t decline gradually with short bowel syndrome. The scary moments ambush you. Patrick would be fine, then suddenly, he’d have a fever and we’d be rushing to the hospital to be treated for sepsis. Or he’d catch his line and it would break. Or a clot would form so we couldn’t use it. We could go months in peace, but when things went wrong, we were rushing to the emergency department. Behind the scenes, he was running out of central venous access and the situation was getting worse. We knew one day, he’d run out of veins for the IVs that were feeding him, and that would happen with no warning. It was like living with a ticking time bomb. One that would alarm at random to remind us time was running down.

When he was not quite 5, Patrick ran out of major vessels above his heart where central lines could be placed. It happened suddenly. A doctor wrote the wrong concentration of ethanol lock. A line clotted. A nurse flushed too hard. Patrick went to surgery to have the line replaced and he came back without one. Upon hearing the news, the transplant team made him status 7 on the transplant list — on hold. Without access, he could not have a transplant. Two days later, we flew to Nebraska to have an alternative central line placed by passing a sheathed needle through his femoral vein and through his heart and out through his superior vena cava.



That’s when we knew that without a transplant, Patrick was unlikely to survive many more years.

A year later, just before Patrick’s 6th birthday, he was granted a wish by Make-a-Wish Utah and we took him to Disneyworld and Give Kids the World Village in Orlando. He’d been listed for a year and a half in Nebraska by then – 5.5 years total – with no match. He was on his second alternate line.

A month later, Patrick got THE call. A donor had finally been found.

That was ten years ago.

This picture was taken as we arrived in GKTW village for Patrick’s wish trip.
Our villa and rental car are in the background.

We just celebrated Patrick’s sixteenth birthday. I never imagined sixteen. I hadn’t really imagined a ninth birthday.

This life has made us a bit shy about looking too far into the future. On the other hand, we are very good at living in the moment and very grateful for every milestone.

Sixteen and ten years since transplant are big ones.

Most of the published data about transplant stops giving numbers after 10 years. Way back when we first listed Patrick for transplant, the procedure was still extremely new and borderline experimental. It was a little more mainstream 6 years later when we finally found a match and Patrick was transplanted, but the fact of the matter is that the procedure was still both new and rare at that point. That means that there really was no reliable data set for us going into this. Patrick and other transplant around the same time as him are still pioneering — writing the book for others, if you will.

The good news is that the story Patrick is writing is a good one. At his checkup, the GI was on his case ten years ago and knew him well. It’s been at least five years since he’s seen Patrick and he got a bit emotional talking about how much he’s grown and how well he’s doing.

I marvel at the fact that Patrick vaguely recognizes but doesn’t remember having TPN. His memories of hospitalizations, surgeries, and transplant are only distant memories. He has only hints of memories of living in Nebraska or the Ronald McDonald House. Those things are all familiar and sometimes he’ll even be triggered by something, but he doesn’t know why.

For Brian and myself, however, those memories are still very poignant.

In September, we when we were in the hospital for his checkup, Patrick hadn’t eaten much lunch and was hungry, so we stopped into the cafeteria to get him a slice of pizza before the appointment. There are so many memories still in that place. I could see the table I sat at the call Patrick’s wish granter to tell her we needed to cancel his star-raising party because he’d received his transplant. Across the room was the table where we ate Thanksgiving dinner with Brian’s brother’s family, who drove in from Colorado to cook for us.

Just past the cafeteria, there was the door that used to lead to the dingy outdated section of family hotel rooms in the Leed Tower (I don’t think that even exists anymore), where we rented a room for the first week until they had space for us in the Ronald McDonald House. I remember the sagging mattress and the 70’s era carpet and the chip in the sink faucet and the fridge we stocked with sandwich fixings so we could pack a lunch to eat in the ICU break room.

It seems like just yesterday.

On our way out of the building, we showed Patrick the lobby where he met Santa Claus with Toys for Tots at Christmas and therapy pets every Wednesday and — most memorably of all — where he went trick or treating the morning before transplant in a too-small borrowed Buzz Lightyear costume.

What a contrast between that year and this one. Don’t get me wrong. Both years, he was spoiled beyond belief. He may have received almost as many toys, pencils, bubbles, and more from the staff at UNMC in the lobby in 15 minutes as he could get an entire night trick or treating.

Ten years later, Patrick was trick or treating at Disneyland. How amazing is that? He has sacks and sacks of treats and has been eating them since he got home. And that’s OK!!

We celebrated Patrick’s first transplant anniversary at Disneyland, too. I remember it being such a big deal that we laid only about ten pieces of candy and he chose one to eat because he couldn’t handle the sugar.

The aftermath: Trying to choose which candy to try first.

This week, Patrick made Brian run him from one roller coaster to another all week. (And because he’s spoiled, his dad does just that.) I couldn’t help thinking of that visit where we asked if it was safe for Patrick to ride the upside down rollercoaster. How big of a decision that was. How scare I was. And now he rides it over and over again, and it’s us whose bodies can’t take more.

We splurged a bit and treated him to Goofy’s Kitchen this trip. He ate macaroni and cheese and chicken tenders until he was too full for dessert. I should maybe have warned him they were bringing a cupcake, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. It was worth it anyway because Minnie Mouse came when they sang to him. She’s his favorite.

When he isn’t chasing roller coasters at the park, Patrick’s’s chasing characters. He loves to see names written and so he loves collecting autographs. I can’t help but contrast the way he made sure every nurse, CNA and doctor who entered his room wrote their name on the whiteboard when he was little. He’s always loved names. I think I prefer chasing autographs in the park, though.

Patrick doesn’t remember his wish trip. He doesn’t remember wishing. One of our regrets in his making that wish was that he was too young to understand it. We were so sure that if he didn’t wish, the opportunity would pass.

So ten years later, we offered him a chance to wish. Actually, first we offered to take him back to Disneyworld and show him where he’d gone for his wish trip. But Patrick didn’t want to relive a wish he didn’t make. He wanted to wish for himself, and his wish was Disneyland.

Yeah, Patrick isn’t looking at the camera. This photo is all about the shirts.

It’s been ten years and he’s looking forward — Living forward.

We have had some good moments this year for looking back. Through the support groups I work with, Patrick’s been starting to connect with other patients with short gut and intestinal transplants this year. He’s nervous about it, but I can tell it’s helpful for him to be a part of that community, too.

I also had a very tender moment at the Oley Conference this summer where I talked with an adult transplant patient. She told me about her relationship with her donor’s family and I had a chance to express to her my deep gratitude for Patrick’s.

There really are no words for that. My heart is all tangled up in the depth of their loss and the magnitude devastation turned to beauty. Every additional year, I marvel more at that gift of life. Patrick’s life and ours are forever changed and we are forever grateful.

What an amazing ten years it has been!

From hospital regular to completely lost in hospital halls. From a backpack full of TPN to pockets full of art supplies. From unable to eat to snacks scattered all around the house. From time is running out to we can’t wait to see what the future holds.

And also – when did I become mom to a sixteen year old?

Transplant Day 804 and Look Ma. No lines!

**Composed yesterday in the surgery waiting room**

This is a good news post. But I’m finding myself so very out of practice at writing updates in the surgery waiting room that I am having a little bit of a hard time getting started.

At 7:30 this morning, we kissed a very drugged and giddy Patrick goodbye at the O.R. doors. He is having his port removed today. We haven’t needed it in a while. We left him with a central line because this his veins are so scarred that putting in a new line will certainly be difficult. This port has been so much healthier than any other central line he’s had before. And it saved him trauma with labwork. We didn’t feel any rush to get rid of a line

But this summer Patrick’s bloodwork started to come back so stable and consistent that his decided to switch labs to every other month, the port became more effort and risk than benefit. (They have to be flushed every 30 days regardless of if they were used.) We knew we’d need to have a talk about removing the line soon.

Last October, we took Patrick for his annual transplant checkup. When we raised asked the doctor if we should be considering taking the port out, he was surprised to find it was even still there. There was no question that it was time. Soon… But of course, we still took our time.

We allowed time for the doctors here to talk to the folks in Nebraska and know what would be involved in removing a direct superior vena cava line. We tried to wait for the end of cold an flu season.

But also at Patrick’s follow-up in October, the doctors decided to stop Patrick’s prednisolone, which was a major part of his immune suppression. Within two weeks, he started to have a severe pain in his side. After about a week, a small bump finally formed. And when we took him on a rollercoaster ride, that bump burst revealing a small abscess.

For some reason, one of the dissolvable stitches in Patrick’s ostomy scar never dissolved. It just stayed there as long as his immune system was heavily suppressed. But as soon as the prednisone was gone, his body started to rebel against a foreign body. He’s had a recurring abcess for several months now. Just a little pimple that would rise and fall. But it hurt like crazy. And that’s what finally got us here.

So here we are. An hour after Patrick went back, the surgeon was back out to report that all had gone well. He’ll have a little bit of an open wound where the abscess was an a pretty sore area on his chest until the space where the port was heals.  But overall, this should be pretty easy.

We’ve taken the port for granted for the past year or so. That makes this transition a little bit simpler. But the simple realization that Patrick has IV line for the first time in his life is a little bit disorienting.. miraculous.. scary.. comforting.. umfamiliar.. splendiferous!

Now not every fever could mean sepsis. Now he’ll have to have labs drawn from the shoddy veins in his arms. Now we won’t have to wake up early once a month to apply numbing cream before the port is accessed. Now we may not have numbing cream at all. Now he won’t have to protect his chest to play. Now it matters more if he eats and drinks. Now we won’t have to worry if a clot is forming. Now he may not automatically qualify for nursing. Now there’s one less thing that makes him different from other kids.

But really, it’s about time. Because I keep forgetting that it’s time to access his port. And I keep forgetting to tell doctors he even has one. He really didn’t need it anymore.

I’ll leave you with the words of a song that Patrick is singing or making me sing at least once an hour right now.


“I feel better, so much better
Thank you doc for taking all the ouchies away.
I didn’t feel so good till you fixed me like I knew you would
And I feel better. So much better now.”

Transplant day 349 and the one-year follow-up

We just got back from Omaha again. It was a short trip. Barely more than 48 hours. In some ways very routine and unexciting. In others, very eventful.

About a month ago, I remembered to ask Patrick’s transplant team if he was supposed to have a one-year follow-up appointment. They said yes.. and then I asked if it really had to happen right on the transplant anniversary. After all, remember, Patrick’s transplant happened both on his birthday and on Halloween. We didn’t really want to spent October 31st at a doctor’s appointment.

They said it didn’t matter, and so we decided to take advantage of Patrick’s fall break. We checked him out of school on Wednesday at lunch and hopped on a plane to Nebraska.

He was crazy excited this time. Or may anxious. I can’t decide. He was happy about the idea of seeing his nurses and couldn’t seem to let it go. We tried to explain that this was just a checkup. But he didn’t settle down until after the appointment. I think because then he knew it was all ok.

Wednesday night, because Patrick was bouncing off the walls, we checked into our hotel but then headed down to the riverwalk to try to burn off some of his nervous energy with a stroll along the Missouri. It was really dark. And it took a really long time for Patrick to settle down. But eventually, he did. And it made him tired enough to sleep pretty well that night.

The next morning, it was cold. Especially for us, coming from Utah’s record-breakingly warm fall. We tried to go to a playground but got too cold. So then we went for a drive just because. We decided we were hungry and Patrick asked for chicken nuggets. So we drove to McDonalds and Patrick discovered McNuggets. I discovered that Sweet and Sour Sauce is made with peaches and so there really are no Patrick allergy-friendly dips available and we settled for ketchup.

IMG_20151015_122642

Finally, it was time for the appointment. Patrick hadn’t finished lunch so we brought it along and as the team came in, Patrick was munching on french fries. He then decided he was still hungry, and we added on a lunchable.

The appointment was mostly routine. They recorded his vital signs and growth, went over his medications, asked if anything big had changed. Then the surgoen joined us and looked Patrick over. He said Patrick looked great. He said to go ahead and discontinue one of his antibiotics. And we talked about when and how to decrease his immunosuppression one more level. Then I asked some questions I had. Patrick played with the doctor and his cell phone. And then they went on their way.

Posing with some statues at the zoo
Posing with some statues at the zoo

The dietitian came in to talk to us next and we decided to go ahead and stop Patrick’s tube feeds and see if he can keep up with his nutrition orally. That doesn’t mean that for sure this will work. It means a really focused effort to make sure he’s eating and drinking enough. But it also means some new comfort and freedom for him.

Not doing tube feeds means having to figure out some other things. Like teaching him to take a chewable multivitamin instead of giving a liquid. It also means that we have to figure out a way to give him 1 teaspoon of baking soda in divided doses throughout the day. Right now, that can go along with his meds in his g-tube. But one day, they’d like a goal of him not needing anything by g-tube. They’d even like to remove his g-tube. And so eventually we’ll need to find a way to get him to take baking soda in food.

A few weeks ago, the hospital’s PR department called and asked if we would be willing to let a news crew come to Patrick’s appointment. So there was a cameraman there filming the whole time. (Well, except when the dietitian came in. She is camera shy.) And then we went and did interviews afterwards. It’s so hard to capture this big story in just a few words. I hope we did it justice. We tried taking them upstairs for Patrick to visit with some nurses. That just ended up being really awkward. Oh well. One day, the story will air and I’ll share it here. We hope it gets people talking about organ donation. And maybe express our thanks to Patrick’s donor’s family and also the amazing medical team who got him this far.

IMG_20151016_111133
Couldn’t resist this photo op.. given that these two missed wearing their matching minion costumes last Halloween.

We stopped tube feeds that same night. Patrick was really restless in his sleep, too. I don’t know if that was because of the missing tubes. Or if it was because I snore. Or because he discovered how truly heavenly comfy sleeping in down pillows is and spent the whole night trying to figure out if he wanted to sleep in the down pillow more or sleep snuggling with me more. I finally told him I didn’t mind him sleeping on the pillow. He said, “You won’t get mad?” And I said, “No. It’s a soft, soft pillow” and he snuggled down and went to sleep. He’s asked for a down pillow for his bed at home.

After the appointment, we had 24 hours before our flight home. So we did our best to find some family fun. We went to the zoo both days. The first, Patrick wanted to just play outside. We got jumbo pretzels that we ended up sharing with some very demanding peacocks.

 

And we let Patrick play on the zoo’s playgrounds that we’ve mostly shied away from in the past year. Then, we went to find dinner in Omaha’s shopping district called Old Market. We ended up at a family italian restaurant called Spaghetti Works where Patrick got to experience his first salad bar. He ordered grilled cheese, which turned out to be a very disappointing sandwich made of two pieces of cheesy garlic bread stuck together. So instead, he ate my spaghetti.

IMG_20151015_182928

The next morning, we packed up, ate breakfast, did laundry. Finally, we had to check out and so we went back to the zoo. Brian splurged a bit and bought all-day ride passes and instead of looking for animals, we spent the day riding stuff. We rode their steam-powered train. (Makes all other zoo trains seems like a huge disappointment.) We rode the carousel. We rode the “ski-fari”, in other words, one of those ski-lifts made amusement park ride.

The ride passes included admission to the stingray encounter which actually turned out to be awesome! They have trained their stingrays to take a piece of fish from the back of your hand with a certain command. And therefore, because they know this command, if you put your hand in the water they right way, they’ll swim over and put their mouth over your hand and suck. They call it a kiss. Also, because guests feed them, the stingrays will come to guests looking for foods. So instead of gathering hoping to snag a quick touch, you have stingrays coming up and reaching out with their fins to get your attention. It was really cool.

It took us all day to figure out how the zoo tram worked and we happened to go exactly opposite the most efficient way. However, that did earn us nice walks through the aviary and lemur island exhibit, which we didn’t do much of in the winter. And then we had a nice long ride to end our day at the zoo.

IMG_20151016_112902 IMG_20151016_113147

We went back to Old Market for lunch. Brian remembered that I’d heard of and really wanted to try a restaurant/bakery called Wheatfields. They have a reputation for being really allergy conscious. We caught them 5 minutes before close so we made a hurried lunch decision. But it was delicious, nonetheless. I ordered Patrick his first cream soup. (New option without a dairy allergy.) He had the creamy chicken and rice. Ok. We both did. I ate about half of it because it was huge. But he did great with it, which gives me courage to try more. If you have a great cream soup recipe, sent it my way.

And then, we caught the flight home.

I am super, duper proud of Patrick who made it the entire trip in underwear and without any accidents.

In fact, I’m just extremely proud of Patrick. He discovered this old video on his tablet taken a couple of years ago. It’s of him and me playing at the table. Nothing much. But I can see so many changes.

Patrick’s speech has come SO far in the past year. In the video, he is licking and spitting out fruit snacks and asking me what happens if he swallows. Now he is eating full meals. In the video I’m telling him not to drink too much water so he won’t make himself sick. Now the only concern is if he’s drinking enough. He’s still himself. Dramatic. Adventurous. But without the limitations.

He has come SO far.

IMG_20151014_192354

Getting ready for summer

It is disorienting to realize that next week is kindergarten’s last week of school. We only just started and it’s almost over again. I feel really bad to be just gearing up while teachers are working to try to take care of the mountain of things that need to be done for the end of the year, I’m here trying to squeeze every last drop out of the few weeks that we have available to us.

I am amazed at all that they ARE doing for him, though. For example, I noticed that Patrick’s class was at recess every day when we arrived. So I asked and they revised his IEP to allow him to go to recess with his friends every day. He is in HEAVEN getting that extra time with his friends. And I understand that he is doing better in class, too, as a result.

Also, I’ve been working all week with his special education teacher on getting the forms completed for him to be able to participate in Extended School Year (a.k.a. summer school). They hold 3-day weeks on 4 weeks during the summer. He’ll attend in the morning. The goal is to keep up the momentum that has just started again.

They did offer one amazing thing that I hadn’t even imagined as a possibility. There is a therapy pool at the school. And, because by the time summer school starts he won’t have a broviac line, Patrick’s doctors have given him the ok to work in the pool. It feels like this little piece of normal… my son being able to be in the pool during the summer. Even if it came about in the most abnormal possible way.

Speaking of doctors, we had a follow-up with Patrick’s GI this week. His dietitian came in, too. It’s the first time we’ve seen her since transplant. I wondered if she was amazed to watch him eat a kids meal while we talked. His growth charts look amazing. I think it’s the first time I’ve really looked at one post-transplant. He’s growing at a normal rate. He’s in the 50th percentile.

They ordered some labs to check to make sure that his vitamin levels and overall nutrition are still good as he’s learning to eat on his own, but doesn’t exactly have a traditional balanced diet yet.

Also this week, or maybe the end of last week, I talked to the team in Nebraska about Patrick’s next follow-up with them. We scheduled an appointment in June to replace his central line with a port. (This is why he’ll be allowed to swim, by the way. No more external central line.) We will be going out the first week of June and it will be an outpatient procedure.

I thought we’d have clinic, too, but it sounds like they feel we’re doing a great job communicating by phone and don’t need the extra visit.

So it sounds like we have a game plan for our summer. At least the start of it. Patrick’s last day of school is the last Friday in March. June 1, he’ll have end-of-year testing. June 3, we’ll meet with the school to make plans for next fall. That night, we’ll get on a plane and fly to Nebraska. The next morning, he gets his port and we come home that weekend.

The next week, Brian leaves on a business trip to Norway. And the week after that, Patrick will go to his first day of summer school. He’ll have two weeks on, then off for the July holidays. Then back again. Brian has a pioneer trek with the youth in July and another international business trip in August. And before we know it, it will be time to come back to school.

I’m trying to pull together some materials to keep working on mommy school in the down-days. I’ve let Patrick develop some lazy at-home habits this month but, really, we have a lot of ground to cover over the summer. Hoping that the extra respite time while he’s at school will give me a breath of energy to keep up with all the rest.

Transplant Day 132 and a follow-up visit in Nebraska

I am writing from the window seat of a room in the Omaha Ronald McDonald House. Today marked 1 month since they told us that he could go home to Utah. And so, today, he had a follow up visit to see how things are going.

It’s been an interesting few days. First of all, can I say how much it broke my poor little brain to try to pack for this trip? Travelling with TPN was hard. It took lots of big luggage and days of coordinating Fedex deliveries and special planning and packing for airport screening. In the past, I brought every suitcase we own packed to the 50 lb limit and also have at least 4 boxes shipped. This time, well, what I needed to bring was not iV supplies. It was formula. And food. I had to pack snacks.

i got everything gathered to put into suitcases and I looked around and I had too many suitcases. And the problem flustered me so much that I had to just go to bed and sleep on it. I had nightmares about not being properly packed. Then, I got up in the morning and I filled the extra space in one suitcase with pillows and blankets and I decided that we didn’t really need one bag as a diaper bag and another one to carry my electronics and medicines. And none of the bags weighed over 40 pounds. And it was all ok.

In fact, it was easier to get to the airport. Brian had flown in and out of this city enough times to know which flights would be fuller and have a busier airport and did a great time picking us a slow time in the airport. Patrick and I donned masked. (I wore one so Patrick wouldn’t feel so alone).. and i gave him a new pair of touch screen capable gloves. And we strode into the airport not struggling under the weight of overfilled bags.

Brian also had applied for TSA precheck status which meant screening for him and Patrick went much more easily. I still had to go through a regular line which felt, well… very strange. To leave them and go off on my own. But things were simpler. Patrick’s many medications had to be checked in the mass spectrometer.. but that is so much simpler than checking a cooler of IV fluids that they still were done by the time I got to them. They’d have beaten me had they not decided to let Patrick be screened in his wheelchair/stroller.

The flight was difficult. Patrick really has a hard time not playing with the window shade and keeping his feet off of the feet in front of him. Under normal circumstances, you can redirect this. But his steroids make it very hard to change Patrick’s mind once an idea enters them and we had a few stretches where I just had to hold onto him to keep him from hitting the seats around us until he settled down. It wasn’t all that way, though. He ordered himself a “diet water” from the flight attendant and had a happy snack time and we played with stickers and some mommy school games I’d laminated and brought along. Patrick’s desire to learn still overpowers most other things. And thankfully, the flight was only 2 hours anyway.

We rented a van and drove to the Ronald McDonald House. It was strange to be back and feel so at home here. Before out of state clinic visits were big adventures in new places. Now, well.. this is just a second home. Patrick, in fact, loves pointing out that we are coming home when we come back to the Ronald McDonald House each time we do. He is very mad at me that we are not restocking the fridge with his favorite foods and are eating out instead.

However, I like him eating out. He figured out he likes hamburgers last week and I love seeing him eat half of a hamburger plus some fries when we get him a kids meal.

We are aiming for a more vacation-like trip. Last night we went out and explored a shopping district called Old Market that we heard about but didn’t brave in the cold. It’s kind of a cool atmosphere. Like a toned down Pikes Market in Seattle, but with fewer people. And well patrolled by police. They allow street musicians, but not others begging on the corner.. so you could enjoy that ambiance of that little addition. It is warm here and nice to be out.

We did stop at the store for a few snacks and staples (and some sugar-free soynut butter that I haven’t been able to find in Salt Lake). And we stayed up snacking while waiting for meds time, even though Patrick was far too tired and overexcited about being here.

Today’s been a really nice day. In the 70’s, so we have been able to be out in short sleeves. We have never caught nice weather in Omaha before. We got up with the sun, as Patrick always does.. and made it out to go to the zoo early. We really love this zoo and find something new each time. This time it was the otters that caught his fancy. He didn’t like the sea lion training, though we did. And he was tired and wanted to go back to the room early, but we didn’t let him.

I’ve been tired today. At midnight last night, as I refilled Patrick’s formula feeds, I noticed that I’d left the charger for his feeding pump home. And I tossed and turned worrying about it all night. Trying to think who I could borrow from and what it would take to get homecare set up again in this city for just a few days. It was top priority this morning. It wasn’t hard to fix. I made a call to our homecare company who said that they often will lend chargers to people in a similar situation. So I called Children’s Home Health, the company we used while we were here, and explained the situation. They said no problem and to come pick up a pump. I signed a form saying we’d pay if it wasn’t returned and they gave me an envelope to return it in since they won’t have open offices the day we leave. And that was that. Easy peasy and why did I worry so much?

Oh well..

Patrick’s clinic appointment was this afternoon. That was also easy peasy. We checked in and there was some confusion about insurance now that we are more than 3 months after transplant.. but they voted in the end to leave that for the financial folks to sort out. We weighed Patrick in and he’s gained again.. and even 22 kilos, or almost 50 pounds.

The doctor we saw today was the surgeon who did Patrick’s transplant, Dr. Grant. This made me very happy. Not only does she, literally, know him inside out but we really seem to click as far as philosophy of care. She said that he was doing remarkably well and to keep on this same path. They were happy to hear he was eating and the dietitian adjusted his feeds again so that he’ll have 8 hours without tubes in a day… I had to promise to keep him drinking in that time so he stays hydrated.

Dr. Grant asked what we were doing about school. We confessed that we hadn’t dared send him back yet and were setting up home school instead. She actually seemed pleased with this answer.. she kept saying “It’s only been 4 months.” Pointing out that it’s easy to overlook how new this all is because he doesn’t have an ostomy or a feeding tube in his nose as most kids do this short time after. She started out recommending summer school or back to school in fall.. then conceded that maybe sending him back sometime after spring break so he can finish this year with his same friends and teacher would be a good idea.

After his physical exam, she pointed out some stitches we could have removed next time he’s sedated. And she said that she doesn’t think he still needs any physical restrictions. Monkey bars here he comes.

And then she said the words we’d dreaded. “So what do we do with this central line?” I decided to just speak my mind. I told her that we were ok with him not needing a line, but worried removing the one he has given how hard it was to put in and the chance of losing that access. I said this once before to another surgeon and was told I was being overly conservative. But Dr. Grant suggested just what I had imagined as the best solution in my mind: A port. This is a central line but one that stays under the skin except when it’s needed. There’s a small disk that can be accessed with a needle.

The nice thing about it is that it isn’t as prone to infection as a broviac line. It won’t need a dressing and he’ll be able to bathe and swim and get dirty.  Also, it means that Patrick’s labs will be easier to draw and less painful, since they can numb the site. The disadvantage is that it’s still a central line and runs a risk of infection and needs careful monitoring for fevers.

We made a plan to come back after the end of the school year and have them change Patrick’s broviac line for a port. We’ll leave that for a little while longer till we know it’s safe, and then remove it.

We won’t need to come back to Nebraska until then. Oh, and labs can now be once a week.

So overall.. still good news.

And now it is on with our mini-vacation. We have had a snack and a nap and are now headed over to the hospital for movie night.. then back here where some nice church ladies are cooking us a turkey dinner.

I don’t want to delay the fun, so pictures will have to come in a later post.

Transplant day 96 and snow days

A shot of the snow Monday morning after it snowed all day Sunday. Before this, there wasn't any snow on the ground.
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.

Transplant Day 94 and still here

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.

 

Transplant day 86 and Sick, sick, sick

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.

Transplant Day 84 and norovirus

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.

Transplant Day 72 and Discharge Again

I just tucked Patrick into his bed at the Ronald McDonald House. Tonight, at least for part of the night, I will sleep in a bed by myself. The spot on my arm where Patrick likes to snuggle all night that is beginning to be deeply bruised is very grateful for this development.

It’s been a busy couple of days. Yesterday, I got up early and started begging often for them to find a volunteer to come sit with Patrick so I could fix the battery problem with my car. It took till afternoon, though, to find someone. So I was a nervous wreck all morning.

Finally, I explained to Patrick why I was acting frustrated and suggested maybe I should pray to calm down. Well, the next thing I knew, Patrick folded his arms, bowed his head, and said a little prayer that a “vodateer” (volunteer) would come so I could fix my battery. Not 10 minutes later, one walked in.

So then I made a mad rush to get it done. I called my insurance policy’s roadside assistance. (Thanks to my mom for pointing out that I might have that service on my policy.) They sent “Rescue Rangers” to come give me a jump start. Because I was in a parking garage, the guy showed up in just a regular sedan. (Tow trucks don’t fit in this garage.) And when he hopped out with a jump starter, I was pretty doubtful. But his was better than mine and the car started right away.

I drove to AutoZone and told them I thought my battery needed replacing. He grabbed his tester, but one look at the battery told him that it was gone. (I kind of knew that.) So he sold me a new one, then installed it, cleaned up all the corrosion, oiled my screws, and checked my other fluids. I expected the help putting in the battery, but not to that level.

With the car now happily starting despite frigid temperatures, I drove back to the Ronald McDonald House to get Patrick’s feeding pump so he’d be ready for discharge.

He had a pretty good night, as far as hospital nights go. And this morning, we slept in and laid around in bed being lazy. But eventually they came to clean his room and check his vitals and look him over.

Rounds were a little bit late. That actually helped a bit because it made the rest of the day seem to go faster. They confirmed our plan from yesterday that he could leave the hospital today.

A couple of hours later, they had a problem with Patrick’s feeding bag and I suggested that we just switch to his home pump. From that point forward, I couldn’t get him to stop running and running away. He was so happy to be free. (And feeling so much better.)

While they worked on getting orders, Patrick and I went for walks, ate soup, played in the playroom. It got late enough in the day that I called Patrick’s school teacher to tell him we wouldn’t make it back to the Ronald McDonald House and ask him to come to the hospital instead. And just as we were wrapping up with school, they came to say they were ready for discharge.

We left the hospital about 3:30 and stopped at Jimmy John’s so we’d have some food for dinner. (Patrick loves Jimmy John’s bread and with his new appetite, happily dipped and entire 2 foot long day old loaf in bread and sucked the broth out of it.)

Getting settled here again was more work than I wanted. It takes time to unpack, do laundry, put away a month of medical supplies, etc. But eventually, I got it all done and we wandered downstairs for a late dinner. Patrick is so happy to get to walk away from me a bit and to visit with his friends here. That felt really REALLY nice.

The new formula is easier to make, which I’m especially happy about. Doing meds again was much more second nature. And we even managed to change the dressing on Patrick’s incision with minimal fuss. I got him into bed by 10 and asleep before 10:30.

I’ll admit, it was kind of sad to come back here. When we were here last, we were still in that post-Christmas happy state. Brian was here. It was lonely coming back and knowing we need to put away Christmas is kind of hard. I’d leave it up, but really this room is tiny and with all the new toys, I need to get the Christmas decorations out of here.

Here are some pictures from this hospital stay. I wasn’t really great about uploading them so they cover a few days.