I just passed my nearly unconscious son into the arms of the medical team. Have I ever mentioned that this is my least favorite part of procedure days? They give Chase a small drug to relieve “separation anxiety” before they take him back to the OR and he immediately relaxes, but I still hate watching them wheel him away from me. I just do.
After almost two weeks, Chase is back in the hospital today. Right now, he is in the OR to get a new central line, remove the picc line in his arm, get a spinal tap, and receive his spinal chemo. After post-op recovery, he will be admitted for about four days of chemo infusions.
Many times, my thoughts and prayers are more general in nature, but today I have a couple specific requests: Please pray that this new central line does not infect (as his first one did) and please pray that the cancer is no longer present in his spinal fluid.
I meant to write all week and the time completely escaped me.
Here is a brief (“brief”? A bit of levity there…) update from our week.
Monday: Chase went back into surgery to have his infected central line removed and a PICC line placed (in his arm).
Some things never change. Chase, before his central line removal, explores the cupboard.
Tuesday: We finally got to go home!! …in time to meet Grandpa and Grandma’s flight. (Early bedtime? Say what?)
Wednesday: Bob and I checked Aidan into outpatient surgery at our local hospital – to have his tonsils and adenoids removed. Surgery was successful.
Having to show up for surgery at 6:00 A.M…. Well, we may recover some day. Aidan was a pro and he was genuinely excited about all the little things like monitoring vitals, the beds and the ID bracelets because he was getting to be just like Chase. Watching them compare their hospital ID bracelets was both heart-breaking and a little hilarious.
Big brother joins the surgery club…
Thursday: Thursday is our scheduled chemo day. Anytime you think of us on a Thursday, we’d so appreciate your prayers. This day meant rising early to get back to “Chase’s Hospital” (he really does call it his hospital) for his labs, chemo, and another lumbar puncture (injecting chemo into his spine). This day was INCREDIBLY encouraging to us because Chase had been able to come home for a day (something never to be taken for granted on this chemo protocol), his counts had dropped – but not as low as they’d expected (so he could come back home instead of being admitted), and despite eating almost nothing, his body was doing well on the IV nutrition and he hadn’t lost any weight since his discharge on Tuesday!
Chase, Thursday, post-op recovery
Friday: The first day in SO many days that we didn’t have to be in either a hospital or a doctor’s office. Ahhh… We ended the day with a small celebration…cuddling up on the couch in our pajamas and watching the “Apple Dumpling Gang.” Silly and perfect and all together for a moment.
Saturday: Chase had a rough night and a slight fever in the morning. The fever got higher as the morning passed and we brought him back to the hospital early in the afternoon. (fevers in a chemo patient are really important as they are usually indicative of a system issue that the body can’t fight due to it’s lack of white blood cells).
Sunday morning: I’m writing this blog post from an inpatient room in “Chase’s hospital.” Chase will be here until he completes a course of antibiotics, the fever is under control, and his blood counts start going back up.
Even though it’s hard to be back in the hospital, we have so much to be thrilled about this week… two kids through two surgical procedures in two hospitals with no complications, Chase doing far better than expected, for longer than expected after his chemo clinic, and getting a special family evening to relax in the middle of the chaos.
Chase was supposed to have been released from the hospital this morning… But it looks like his brand new central line (placed on Thursday) is infected. So, unless there is a miracle in the next few hours, Chase will go back into the OR to have the line removed.
What exactly this means for his next chemo or his ability to fight infection (as his white count is already rapidly dropping), the medical team doesn’t know. We have been told that this is the surgeon’s “call” in the next few hours.
In this moment, I have many unanswered questions about what the next few days will hold. I also miss my family and am frustrated to miss that small window to be together again. Along with this feeling there is a thankfulness and relief that they caught the issue while we were still here and that they’re carefully monitoring him.
I’ve been told that I have “every right” to be upset by this unusual “complication.” Really? Just this one? I don’t mean to be facetious, but in my mind, on some level, it’s all been a giant, graphic complication from the moment the local ER doctor walked into the room and said, “It doesn’t look good. The CT shows a large mass in his head.”
Where do we go from here?
Stay tuned …
How will we handle it? Moment by moment
“Whatever may pass, and whatever lies before me, let me be singing when the evening comes … You’re rich in love, and You’re slow to anger, Your name is great, and Your heart is kind. For all Your goodness I will keep on singing… Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find…”10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord),Matt Redman
