Annnddd.....we're back.

The first day home from the hospital was full of relief.  I started panning our lives again, making appointments we'd missed and  checking in with other responsibilities.   My mom bought her return ticket home.  All hopes or normalcy were soon dashed. After 24 hours home, Aiden developed a fever.  After a few hours, it wasn't coming down so I called our friends, the Marbles.  Jordan Marble was a surgical resident who had actually worked on Aiden's case the week before.  He came over, did a quick assessment and told me there were most likely more abscesses.  We took him into the surgeon's office who sent us back to the hospital.  I cannot express the deep discouragement we all felt.  Aiden sobbed as the nurses hooked him back up to machines.  We felt defeated.  More MRI tests confirmed the abscesses had formed and needed to be drained.  They were in identical places as before.  We were literally back where we started.  Surgery was done on Wednesday morning.  Recovery started all over again.

Aiden's best attempt at a post-op thumbs up.

We all hoped things would be quicker this time since Aiden wasn't as sick.   He wasn't on oxygen.  He wasn't dehydrated.  Surely, this would be a quick fix.  I assured my mom that we would be home by the weekend and could handle things so she flew home.  Within a few days, it became clear that this wasn't going to be any faster or easier than before.  Brent, Aiden and I spent several days feeling very dark.  Aiden said things like, "I hate my life."  or "I hate being here, I just want to go home."  He stopped smiling.  He wouldn't laugh.  He wouldn't play.  He just laid in bed watching TV.   Brent posted the following on our family facebook groups:

     Aiden is still working through recovery. He hasn't had a fever for almost 48 hours which has the
     doctors feeling much better about things. They were starting to get concerned about their ability
     to  really tackle the infection.
     He just had one of his drainage tubes removed. He still has one in. Physically he is doing ok. He
     can't walk without serious assistance, and even then we are only going a few steps. He can sit up
     and watch TV in a chair, but that's about it.

      The biggest challenge has been the emotional recovery. This time around has been much 
     more difficult. He is really discouraged and doesn't feel like there is an end in sight. We are 
     working with him to keep his spirits up, while at the same time not getting too discouraged 
     ourselves. 

I spent a few hours with Aiden on Sunday (May 14th-Mother's Day).  Here is another facebook post:

     I was on hospital duty this morning when I casually mentioned that it was Mothers Day. Aiden's    
     eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry mom," he choked with tears falling, "the only present I can 
     give you is a smile." Then he smiled the saddest sweetest smile ever. "Thank you, buddy. That's 
     exactly what I wanted," I said. We hugged each other and cried. Best Mother's Day gift I've ever 
     gotten! 

On Monday morning, I came to relieve Brent and found Aiden out of bed, happy and smiling.  As the day progressed, I could see he had turned a corner.  I saw little glimpses of his personality.  I felt hopeful again.

One of the great programs at the hospital. Still attached to an IV, but he got to go outside and see the horses.

 Each day was better than the first.  He had more energy.  He started enjoying all the electronics and toys he had.  We had to make him earn MarioKart time by eating food.  They weighed him each day to make sure he was gaining weight. 

 Near the end, they transitioned some of his antibiotics to oral pills.  Swallowing pills had become a huge battle.  I had to coax and threaten most times (and he was taking them 3 times a day).  After making him swallow his pills and then beating him at foosball (another new favorite), he decided he didn't like me much.  This is him trying to avoid me.

Finally, arrangements were made for him to come home.  Aiden was being sent home with his PICC line so we could administer antibiotics at home.  He was pretty excited when the nurse let him pull out his other I.V. by himself. 

I felt like Aiden was much healthier going home this time than he was the first time.  I felt confident the worst was over and we wouldn't be returning.  Coming home was a bit of a transition.  Aiden hadn't been alone for almost a month and was afraid to sleep by himself.  Brent and I jumped every time he did anything.  It was hard to not treat him like a china doll.  The girls were jealous of all his gifts and attention.  Within a few days, he felt like returning to school for a few hours each day. His strength and eating weren't back to normal, but he was getting there.   He had oral and I.V. antibiotics for about a week.

In all, we spent 25 days in the hospital.  It was the worst month of Aiden's life, I'm sure.  It was pretty rough for our whole family.  I have been so grateful for wonderful friends and ward members who helped with meals, rides, and play dates.  I am grateful for my mom who came down for 1 1/2 weeks to make things more normal for the girls.  I am grateful for a caring and patient husband who put work on the back burner to make sure I got enough sleep and respite.  I am mostly grateful for the power of prayers.  For the strength we felt throughout this time.  For the strength I saw in my little 8 year old boy.  It was hard to not be able to help him.  It was hard to not have control.  I became so grateful for wonderful nurses and doctors who could help him.  And for a Father in Heaven that allowed us to keep our son and helped our family survive.

So grateful for the normal life we now have!

First family dinner in a month!

Not the stomach flu

Aiden came in our room Sunday (April 23rd) night with an upset stomach.  He threw up all night.  I had agreed to substitute teach on Monday so Brent stayed home from work with him while I went to the school.  He was still pretty sick when I got home Monday afternoon.  By Tuesday night things had gotten worse.  He was still vomiting and was now having severe stomach cramps. He couldn't get up to walk and so we were carrying him to the bathroom.  If you sat on the couch next to him, he would scream in pain. I texted my friend whose family had been sick days before to ask about her symptoms.  She sympathized with Aiden and described how sick she had been and how intense the stomach cramps had been for her.  I felt reassured that this was just a nasty stomach bug.  The vomiting had subsided so I figured he'd be much better by morning. 

Unfortunately, things were not better in the morning so I left a message with the pediatrician.  Hours later, they hadn't called.  I could tell he was very dehydrated and the cramping was very intense.  He would scream, "It's killing me, mom," with a look of sheer terror on his face.  By noon I was seriously worried and took him to urgent care. After a thirty second exam, the doctor told me solemnly that Aiden was very sick and needed to get to the hospital now.  I could tell he was very concerned. I told him I would take him in right away.  He said he wanted to call an ambulance for us but I assured him I would go straight there.  Aiden couldn't walk, so we put him in a wheelchair, loaded him in the car and drove to the emergency room.

I won't go into details of the hours that followed. My fears and worry were growing with each step. Everyone who saw Aiden kept saying things like, "Oh my, he looks awful," or " He is so so sick,"  or "Wow, I am so glad you brought him in." The guilt that came with each one of these comments was heavy.  The doctors suspected a ruptured appendix and ordered an MRI to see exactly what we were dealing with. They got an IV started and quickly gave him morphine.  He slept for the next several hours but would occasionally wake up screaming in pain.  I held his hand and told him to breath through it.  I told him to hang on.  I held back the tears and swallowed the lump in my throat. I needed him to be brave, so I needed to be brave.

They started talking about his low sodium levels and how he was at a very high risk for seizures and brain swelling (due to dehydration). Normal sodium levels were about 135, scary levels were low 120's.  His level was 116.  I thought it might be helpful to prepare myself so I asked what a seizure would look like and what I should do if that happened.  Bad idea. After the nurse answered those questions, I called Brent to give him and update and broke down.  I sobbed.   Everything was suddenly very scary.  I prayed for help.  I didn't want to ask the doctors if his life was at risk because I was afraid of the answer. 

After an MRI and several other assessments, Aiden was admitted to the ICU.  His appendix had ruptured.  The surgeon guessed it had happened about 6 days earlier when he spiked a fever (103) for a few hours.  That was three days before he had started throwing up and had no symptoms during that time.  Because it had been so long, the infection was very advanced.  The doctors discovered three large (cantaloupe sized) abscesses in his abdomen.  Removal of the appendix was the least of their worries. The infection was in his blood.  He was septic.  The infection needed to be under control before anything else could happen.  The next day (Thursday), Aiden went into surgery to drain the three abscesses.  The surgeon spoke to us and informed us that Aiden would be fighting this infection in the hospital for about two weeks.  At which time, he would go home on antibiotics and pain meds while his body healed.  Once the inflammation went down (about six weeks) we would come back for appendix surgery. 

Within 24 hours Aiden had two drains attached, a PIC line, two IVs, oxygen tubes, and a catheter.

We called family, posted to friends and asked for prayers. Brent gave him a blessing. His low sodium was the most immediate concern.  They pumped a high sodium concentrated saline into his IV.  The next morning, his levels were up out of the danger zone.  Brent and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.  However, he still looked like this.

He continued to have a fever. His electrolytes were monitored very closely.  His breathing was shallow and labored.  They continued fluids, antibiotics, morphine, and anti-nausea medication.

His whole body went from dehydrated to retaining large amounts of fluid. He gained 14 pounds in water.   His body swelled.  His left lung became completely full of fluid.  His oxygen levels were low.  They scheduled surgery to drain his lung on Monday morning.  We prayed that he could avoid another surgery during a time when he was so weak and sick.  His name was put in several temple rolls.  On the morning of surgery,  they took one last x-ray to check out the fluid levels.  His lung had improved and the operation was canceled.

I could feel divine power blessing him.  Each challenge could have become life-threatening.  Each problem could have become a huge issue.  But, none of them ever got that serious.  God was blessing Aiden.  He was blessing the doctors to anticipate problems, and implement solutions.  He blessed the amazing nurses and hospital staff who knew how to make him comfortable, when to hug me, and when to advise the doctors.  He was blessing Brent and me to be able to handle the stress.  He was watching and guiding and blessing.  Things could have been so much worse.  We were so blessed.

During this time, I posted to following:

Tonight Aiden has been pretty loopy. He's actually been hilarious to watch as he slays pretend dragons and talks to friends who aren't here. Then he opens his eyes and says "what the?!" A few minutes ago, however, he opened his eyes and said very loudly "Mom, I want a kiss on the lips". I happily obliged and then he smiled and went right back to sleep while I cried in the chair next to his bed, grateful I could do something for him.

Four days into our hospital stay, Emma decided to turn 13.  Brent and I worried about making sure she felt celebrated even in the midst of our ordeal.  I took her out to lunch, bought her balloons and we opened presents with as much fanfare as possible.

  Then, we took her to visit Aiden.  This was kind of a big deal because only people over 12 could visit the ICU.  Thanks to some generous hospital staff,  Aiden had a few presents and a banner waiting for Emma when she came.  

This was about as excited as Aiden could get.

As the days progressed, all the tubes started getting removed.  His body started waking up again and the real recovery started.

 After 7 days, he was moved out of ICU.  Finally, Sydney and Taylor could come visit.  Grandma Robertson (who came to help out) brought the girls up.  It lifted everyone's spirits and Aiden finally started to smile.

His pain episodes slowly became shorter and less frequent.  He started having friends visit, which he loved.  His appetite was slow to return and I found myself begging him to eat a cookie or some soda.  The irony was not lost on him.  These were hard days for Aiden.  Walking was extremely painful.  His feet and legs felt like they were covered in needles whenever he put pressure on them.    The infection inside created lots of gas bubbles which were very painful and had to just be endured.  He learned to swallow pills (thanks to the child life staff who taught him with candy).  He was tough.  He did hard things.  I was so proud of him.  I started to see my sweet boy come back again.  He started joking and laughing.  The doctors monitored his input an output carefully.  Finally, Sunday, May 7 (12 days in the hospital), they agreed to let him go home. 

We loaded a wagon full of gifts in the back of the van.  This boy had a major fan club.  His school class had made cards.  The entire ward primary made cards.  His aunt and uncles sent packages, grandparents sent gifts, his friends dropped of oodles of activities and goodies.  The hospital provided all sorts of busy bags, quilts, pillow cases, and books.  I was overwhelmed and so very grateful for wonderful people in my life.  Not to mention the food and goodies being brought in at home, the countless phone calls, texts, and messages of encouragement.  Aiden and I cried many tears of gratitude for our sweet support system.  Finally, we were home again.