The Radioathon is Here!

There has been MUCH more drama in our home since our return from the hospital, but I'll save that for another post. For now, I wanted to let you all know that the radioathon benefitting CHKD, our local Children's Hospital, begins tomorrow and goes through Friday. This is exciting for us because Emma is one of this year's eight "featured kids" and the approximately 30-minute-long version of her story I recorded at the station back in August will be aired during this time. The link with more information about the radioathon can be found here and you can click on "Meet this year's Kids" to see Emma's picture. The radioathon can be heard live online here from 5:30AM Dec 10th - 5:00PM Dec 12th. With any luck, you may just tune in as Emma's story is being broadcast!

Thank God Almighty, Free At Last

We're HOME! Here's the rest of the story...

After the samples of Emma's ooze were taken, we basically killed Saturday, Sunday, and Monday at the hospital waiting for lab results. To say that Emma was antsy and I was bored and frustrated is an understatement. Each morning, the surgeon would come into our room, look at Emma's incision and say, "Right now I don't think surgery is necessary, but let's give it 1 more day." Three days later, I was ready to throw something at him. HE should try keeping an almost-2-year-old entertained in a room the size of a closet she's not allowed to leave while tethered to an IV pole. NOT fun...for Emma or mommy or daddy.

FINALLY this morning around 6:30, a resident came back in and said that the lab results were in and the bacteria was one that could be treated with oral antibiotics at home. They took Emma off of "contact" precautions (meaning we were now free to roam about the 7th floor and play in the playroom) and promised to discharge her as soon as the surgeon who actually performed her surgery looked at her incision one last time. A few hours later, after Emma joyfully tore apart the playroom, we were told that Dr. Mahaffey was stuck in a surgery that was becoming more "complicated" than originally thought and would be at least 4 more hours. Rather than make us wait 4 hours for a two-second "Looks good!" from him, he gave the resident permission to discharge Emma herself. What a nice man.

So at noon, Emma and I busted out. We joyfully fled the building, hopefully for good. Hopefully...

One good sign - as soon as we got into the car, Emma said to me, "Fries mommy. Chicken nuggets." Five minutes before we pulled into our driveway, she said, "Apples. Ice cream."

It's nice to have my baby back.

The Saga Continues

Hello everyone! Just wanted to post another update on the past few eventful days in Lovelace-land and once again ask for your prayers. The day we brought Emma home from surgery, she was groggy and tired off and on, just as they said she would be. We let her eat whatever she wanted to and watched some cartoons with her before putting her to bed for the night. Wednesday - Emma wakes up VERY congested with a draining nose. She's in a terrible mood all day long and has a temperature ranging form 100-102 off and on. We think two things: a) they said a fever for a few days after anesthesia is normal, and b) she's had a cold coming on for weeks now. Surgery must have brought it out. Not a big deal. She's miserable most of the day. That night, a follow-up nurse from the hospital calls to see how Emmma's doing. We tell her and she hears that Emma's temperature has been as high as 102, she says, "101.5 is about as high as we're comfortable with post-surgery. You might want to give the on-call surgon a call, just to be safe." We do. She says, in a nutshell, "It's probably her virus. Your options are to bring her to the ER or to watch and see how she feels tomorrow." (Thanksgiving) We decide to wait and see. Thursday morning comes around, Emma wakes up with a normal temp, but it begins to climb as the day continues. Finally, around 11AM, I convince my husband (who is at this point highly annoyed with his paranoid wife) to agree to the ER, just for my own peace of mind. I wanted to enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner in peace. We take Emma to the ER Thursday morning and it was essentially unhelpful. A surgical resident examines her and essentially says that it seems OK to him, but since the incision still has the bandage on it from surgery, he couldn't tell for sure. He advises us to call the surgery clinic for an appointment on Monday morning. We head home. At this point, it's 2PM and Chris is miserably sick (has been for over 24 hours) and Emma is exhausted. We opt out of Thanksgiving dinner with Chris' co-workers and decide to let Emma nap as long as she'd like. We spent the rest of Thanksgiving in our PJs on the couch while I continue to worry feel like something is not quite right. Not the most memorable holiday ever. Friday rolls around and Emma's fever is still in the mid-101s. We also notice that her wound is slowly oozing, leaving small stains on her onesies. The day continues and although she seems much happier than she has for the past few days, the fever-that-just-won't-quit is still concerning me. Later that afternoon, I beg Chris to call the on-call surgeon again. Maybe they could at least put Emma on some antibiotics just in case an infection really IS brewing. He does and rolls his eyes 80% of the time he's on the phone. When he gets off and I look at him with question marks in my eyes, Chris tells me the surgeon wants us to return to the ER so they can admit Emma to the hospital overnight. "What!?" you might be thinking. That's what I thought too. But apparently the surgeon says that if we're worried enough to have taken her to the ER already and called multiple times, it might be worth taking a closer look. "What about the antibiotics?" I ask. Chris says, "He doesn't feel comfortable with that." So all of the wind comes out of our sails as we pack for yet another hospital stay. Our hope was that they would admit Emma, look at her wound, tell us she was fine and we could go home. No such luck. We are admitted to the ER and instantly put into a room. Another surgical resident looks at Emma's incision (which is still covered by the bandage) and says, "It looks just a HINT redder than "stone-cold normal" to me. Let's admit her and get an IV going. Again, Chris and I say, "WHAT?! Is this really necessary?" Yes, she says. "The kind of antibiotic we want to give her can only be given via IV." Our poor sweet girl. She endures this procedure yet-again with grace and less tears than we were expecting, but Chris and I are weary of the whole hospital scene. We are checked into a room and since only 1 parent is allowed to stay overnight, Chris leaves around midnight wihle I do my best to get Emma to sleep in this new crazy not-my-home-or-my-bed environment. Yesterday (Saturday) the same resident came into our room at 7:15 to look at Emma's wound and declared it looked much less red (which it did). Around 10:30, the on-call surgeon whom we had spoken with finally came by. He looked at Emma's skin again as we tried to distract her with toys. He took the bandage off and finally looked at the incision itself. He looks up and says to me, "Well, it's infected." I had to fight the urge not to stand on the chair in Emma's room and say things like, "Ha! I TOLD you so! I'm not just a paranoid mom who's trying to make your life difficult! I KNEW something was wrong!" and things like that. But I didn't. I calmly said, "Well, I wasn't trying to pester you. I just didn't feel right about it and I've learned enough about my parental instincts from Emma's history to know that I should follow them." He said, "You guys did the right thing. Calling multiple times and bringing her in..." Although I was NOT happy to hear that Emma had an infection brewing, I felt vindicated. He put her on a stronger more all-inclusive antibiotic and told us that they would be taking a culture of the ooze to see exactly what kind of bacteria was there in order to better target it with antibiotics. It's now Sunday morning and we are still at the hospital without any more information. Emma was happy all day long, but is not eating or drinking well. Chris let me spend the night at home last night so I thought I'd update the blog to ONCE AGAIN ask for prayers for Emma's healing. Only about 20% of kids with G tubes need to have them closed surgically. After surgery, Chris and I were told it is very rare for an infection to develop after this particular procedure. Once again, we are in the minority on all counts, which is very frustrating. We are praying that God would heal Emma's incision by allowing it to respond to antibiotics. If it does not, they will have to put her under again, re-open the wound and clean it out. I can barely stand the thought of doing this all over again. PLEASE pray with us. I'll keep everyone updated. Thank you so much! I'm off to Starbucks and then the hospital!

A Great Success

We're home from the hospital and are happy to report that Emma's surgery was a total success! We arrived on time, checked in and let Emma enjoy the toy wonderland that is the day surgery waiting room. A nurse in triage took Emma's vitals, we met with the anesthesiologist and surgery nurse and Emma continued to enjoy toy wonderland until the surgeon came out to introduce himself and look at her incision. We liked Dr. Mahaffey right away; he seemed very kind and caring and we felt as though he viewed Emma as a person, not just a body to be operated on. He looked at her G tube site, told us what he would do to "clean it up," and asked if we had any other questions. About ten minutes later, a nurse walked the 3 of us back into the surgery hallway and took Emma away. That's always the hardest part for me, turning her over to someone else knowing that she has no idea what's coming. This time was particularly difficult as Emma starting screaming and crying immediately and I got a little teary as we walked away. The surgery was estimated to last about 45 minutes, so Chris and I ordered lunch in the cafeteria and returned to the waiting room immediately to eat. Around noon, Dr. Mahaffey came out with a smile and told us everything went very well. He gave us a few great tips on how to make the scar as "pretty" as possible for her in the future and we chatted about ECMO for a bit. Turns out, he's quite experienced with ECMO and told us that he actually started the ECMO program at Duke University, the busiest ECMO center in the country. He reiterated that meconium kids do the very best on ECMO, but still said that it was wonderful to see a survivor who is doing so well. He also has two daughters and told Chris how much he enjoyed having girls. About 5 minutes later, we were called back to the recovery area to hold Emma as she was waking up. Just like she did with her G tube surgery, she moaned and cried for quite a while. It was sad. Eventually, she setttled and began asking for crackers and apple juice, so we were sent to the stepdown unit until she was "with it" enough to go home. Chris held her while I picked up some coffee, read an article about Brangelina, and waited for her prescription to be filled. When I returned, the nurse removed Emma's IV, returned her clothing to us, and told us we were free to leave. We left the hospital around 2:30, so thankful not only that Emma's surgery is over with, but also that we feel as though we have finally closed the "ECMO/NICU/feeding tube" chapter of her life for good. We are praising God for his goodness and faithfulness and mercy and celebrating the fact that He is indeed a God who keeps His promises. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Emma's Surgery

Happy Monday morning! We just wanted to again ask those of you who might happen to read this today to pray for Emma's surgery tomorrow. The hospital called this morning to tell us her surgery is scheduled for 11:15AM. We are to be at the hospital just after 9AM and can expect to be there until about 2:30 or so. The surgery itself is only an hour from start to finish, including anasthesia, but there's the customary meeting with the anasthesiologist beforehand as well as follow-up procedures to review afterwards.

Please pray that her surgery will be safe, effective, and free from any difficulties or complications. We are so thrilled to finally close the final chapter tying us to Emma's challenging start! She is doing so well - growing, talking, laughing, playing, eating, and bringing us more and more joy on a daily basis. Thanks for all your love and support!

A tick just changed my life

I just had a life-changing moment. No kidding. My husband is out of town until Friday, but I found a tick on our dog after dinner tonight. Now a tick on your dog is always a horrible discovery, but finding a tick on your dog when your husband is out of town is infinitely worse. Infinitely.

Panic. What do I do? Where's Chris? Oh noooooooo! Quick. Call Gail. She'll know what to do. Gail's response, "Ooooh. Gross. I don't know. Sorry. Good luck." Something like that. Darn. She didn't even offer to send HER husband over to deal with it and left me here all alone with a tick-infested dog in my house and germs and diseases running rampant and...OK Jen. Settle down.

I know! I'll call the vet! HE'LL have to deal with it tomorrow! I call the vet and leave a message. Done. Problem solved. HE can take it out. Good night Oslo.

OK no. This thing really should come out. Emma? Not a feasible solution. But I'm pregnant. What if I get a disease? That's what gloves are for Jen. (I really am having this coversation with myself. You think I'm kidding. I'm not.)

I return to our couch and stare at Oslo with intense dislike, WILLING the tick to come out and leave our home immediately. It's not working.

I do some research online. I find this: http://www.instructables.com/id/How-to-remove-a-tick/ I think, "How absurd. I'm NOT doing this." I continue to stare at my dog who is wondering why I keep shooting him dirty looks.

An hour passes and I begin to imagine Oslo dying a slow and painful death from paralysis or lyme disease or some other transmitted-by-tick disease while I sleep peacefully in my bed tonight. And I decide that I couldn't live with myself if I killed my own dog, so I sigh, throw on a pair of orange cleaning gloves, pray for the safety of our unborn child, and decide to give this slightly insane-sounding online tick-removal method a try.

My stomach churned. I had to keep stopping and giving myself pep talks. Oslo wanted to wiggle. The tick was stubborn, but I prevailed AND (drumroll please)...it came OUT!!! All by itself, just as the website promises it will if you give its slightly insane-sounding tick-removal method a try.

After the tick fell onto our carpeted floor, I responded by immediately shoving Oslo out of the way and jumping back about ten feet to search for its whereabouts. No luck. I (harshly) banish Oslo to his bed, pull out the vaccum, and proceed to vaccum my entire family room three times. Overkill? I think not. Have you ever had a tick loose in YOUR house?

It was only after returning our vaccum to its rightful spot in the front hallway closet and staring at my dog (with only slightly less nausea) that I realized what I'd done. I removed a tick. From my dog. On my own. Without Chris, Gail (or her husband), the vet, or the medical team of experts I'd tried to conjure into existence in my living room. Me. I did it. I am woman. Hear me roar.

Who knew one little tick could have such a life-changing impact on one's self-esteem?

A tick-free but slightly confused Oslo just before receiving permission to vacate his bed

Prayers for Emma

Just wanted to let you all that Emma's G tube site has not closed properly and is still leaking. I contacted the surgery clinic today and they've scheduled her for surgery to close it on November 25th. We're really disappointed that the site did not close on its own and that she has to go through anasthesia again, but thankfully, the surgery is a simple and quick outpatient procedure. If you all who pray will please keep Emma in your prayers on November 25th, we would be very grateful. Please pray for a smooth and effective surgery with no complications, side-effects, or infections. Thanks so much!