Milestones

Back in April and May when Parker was critically ill, on the days I felt the universe was pushing me face first into a pit of darkness, I would clench my fists as I walked The Green Mile and say out loud, "One day Parker is going to walk down this hallway by my side... he is going to walk and he is going to live!" I believe once I punched the wall, just to be sure it heard me.

Today, for the first time, Parker walked The Green Mile with me. Walked, standing tall, no wheelchair, no cane. We went to see Yonus, one of the nurses who was so instrumental in keeping Parker alive and keeping me upright and strong during the darkest days. When we left, Parker leaned against the wall in the hallway and burst into tears. He didn't know it was the same wall, the same spot, where his brother collapsed after seeing him the first time.

We have so much to be grateful for.

Earlier this morning, before the trip to the hospital, we took Quinn to the dog park for the first time. She caught about 30 Frisbee throws, then we let her go into the area where the other dogs were. She wasn't interested in them until one of them, a little Boston Terrier, stole her Frisbee. Then she ran after that little critter for half an hour, not really that pressed over it, more interested in the principle. The trip to the dog park gave me a great idea for an article for Austin Magazine.

After the dog park Parker and I went to the fitness center to start our workouts back up. It's amazing how much harder it is after five days off. He is still not allowed to lift weights, and won't be able to until after the surgery to rebuild his abdomen. But he is working on the stationery bike and treadmill to build stamina and increase his metabolism. Sixty pounds in three months is a lot of weight to lose.

The photo above is of Quinn waiting for Parker to come back when he left to go buy her a new bed. She is a little like a love stuck teenager, the way she stares at him where ever he goes. So cute, and such a perfect companion for him.

Talked to my Dad on the phone a few times today. Although he sounds very confused and is mixing up his days, he sounds healthier than yesterday and the docs think he should be getting out of the hospital by Tuesday or Wednesday. I told him that was good. Less chance of his getting a disease. :-)

When we went to the hospital we literally ran into Lindsey coming off the elevator. Even with all her throwing up for the last two months, she has that glow of a pregnant woman and looked great. Went up to the 4th floor also and visited with Kim, Jeff and Allison. It was good to see them, but Parker was unnerved being there, too.

Even though I was by his side the whole time, it is hard to put myself in his place and imagine what it felt like to be the one who might die at any minute, or the one who was in constant pain for four months, who had to go through Ct Scans, MRI's, almost daily ex rays, medication changes, doctor visits, tracheotomy irritations, NG tubes, feeding tubes, picc line infections, MRSA and VRE, more throwing up bile than any human should have to endure, multiple ileus's, blood clots in the lung, wound vac changes ...... ugh. I can't go on.

Thank you God for bringing us through that nightmare, and for giving us the strength and wisdom and courage to understand the changes we need to make going forward in our lives.

Optimism

Optimism works. I just spoke with my Dad's nurse and she said he is sitting propped up reading the paper this morning, waiting for his test. Yea!

Update to Post Below

My Dad is going back to his room. There was too much blood in the esophagus to be able to see where the source of the bleeding was, so they could not fix it. They are putting the tube back in to try and continue to clean it out and they will try to do the procedure again tomorrow.

Prayers would be great. Thank you.

Death Has Come Too Close

This is my Dad, the photo was taken two years ago this month when my parents met me out in Wyoming for a wonderful four day vacation.

As I write this my Dad is being transported from the Critical Care Unit in a hospital in New Jersey to have a procedure done to look for esophageal varices, otherwise known as areas in the esophagus which are bleeding and causing him to throw up masses of blood.

This has been quite a week. Monday we went to Houston for the appointment at Methodist Hospital for Parker. Tuesday I found out I had lost my job and spent the day wallowing in my woes under the covers. Wednesday I woke up ready to slay dragons again, and Parker had his first day back at work since he fell ill in March. He only lasted two hours, but we expected that.

Then later in the day yesterday, after sending out 30 resumes and looking for job online for 6 hours, I kept trying to call my parents. They were supposed to go to Sloan Kettering yesterday for my Dad's check up with the bladder cancer doctor. there was something wrong with their phone, and of course their cell phones were turned off (which usually means they can't find them and the battery died). So I called Sloan Kettering and was told they hadn't shown up for the appointment. Panic set in.

I called a good friend of the family who lives up near them, Seamus, and asked if he was in the neighborhood could he stop by and check on them. 30 minutes later he called to tell me he walked in the door to find my Dad vomiting blood everywhere and my mother struggling to get down the stairs to help him. As much as they resist it, these are not two people who should be living alone.

Seamus called the ambulance and, to make a long story short, Dad's blood pressure was really low and his heart rate high (good God this is making my hands shake from the familiarity of it). They got him to the closest hospital and got him somewhat stabilized. But during the night he continued to vomit blood, so this morning he was transferred to the CCU. When Seamus got back there this morning Dad had what looked like an NG tube sucking blood out of his stomach. So far there had been a quart.

Dad has liver cancer, and bladder cancer. Two cancers for drinkers and smokers, of which he is neither. Bad luck I guess. Liver cancer leads to cirrhosis (and visa-versa), non-alcoholic fatty liver disease and a thing he has called portal hypertension. All of the above can cause this esophageal varices, or bleeding from the esophagus.

So right this minute, my 84 year old father is undergoing a procedure to investigate and repair if possible. I have seen my son come back from being on the verge of death twice in the last six months, so I am optimistic this will turn out okay. If not, I sure am glad I said those thing to my Dad when I saw him two weeks ago. Death has come too close to me not to know I need to say what I feel to those I love, because you never know.

Hug your family today.

A Day of Celebration!

Five months ago today Dr. Garcia looked at Parker's MRI report, called John and told him to get Parker checked into Seton Hospital immediately. Parker had already spent two weeks at another hospital, then almost two weeks at home in unbearable agony.

On that day, when Dr. Garcia sent him to Seton, he told us to expect him to be there for at least three weeks, maybe as long as six weeks. Dr. Garcia is very optimistic. It was three and a half months before Parker went home.

But he lived! He beat the odds! And today he has just left to return to his job for the first time. It is definitely a day for celebration!

I, on the other hand, will be spending my day searching for a job when I return to Maryland in less than two weeks. I am sorry to say my boss could not hold my position for me any longer. It is a truly sad day for me, as I have worked for that company for the better part of the last 18 years, and it is a company I love and respect. But, he has a business to run, and I understand that. I am sure the decision was not an easy one for him to make.

Knowing that doesn't make me any less sad. Or scared. The only other time in my life when I didn't have a job was 18 years ago. It was scary then, but scarier now for some reason. Wish me luck!

The photo above was taken at Parker's birthday party when he was in the 4th grade. The photo I really wanted to post was taken when he was two years old, but I don't have it here in Austin. In it he is standing by the back door of the house where I grew up in Houston, holding up a brown paper lunch bag, a smile lighting his face and his curly hair flying all over creation. It was his first time to go to a half day "school" at the church. He couldn't wait to get there and see what the world had to offer outside. My mother had written on the bag something to the effect of "This belongs to a very special boy ~ please take good care of him today!"

Of course when Parker left today he didn't have a brown paper bag, his hair is short and not curly anymore, he's a bit taller and has a beard, and since he is returning to the job he held for a year and a half before he got sick, he pretty much knows what to expect. But believe me, the moment was no less magnificent than that day 23 years ago. What a blessing. He made it!

Houston

Parker and I rented a car yesterday and drove to Houston for an appointment with a surgeon at Methodist Hospital. We are doing this so I know, when I leave in two weeks, that all bases are covered, everything has been checked and double checked, and if Parker ends up having to move to Houston, we are already set with a surgeon to take over and do the somewhat complex abdominal repair that still has to take place.

The surgeon was perfect, his specialty is complex gastrointestinal surgeries with a focus on diseases of the pancreas. He looked at the Ct Scans and reassured us the pancreas looks good. No worries. Yes, we have been assured of that here in Austin as well, but I am a Mom, and I sat next to his bed for four months, I was the one the doctors told I was losing my son. So there is no such thing as too much information.

While in Houston we drove past the neighborhood where I grew up from age 13 to 18 when I moved out. 142 Hickory Ridge, as seen above. The house is still lovely. Kind of makes your heart sing a little when you pull onto the road. We ran into the parents of my friend across the street, Denise, who married one of the Dallas Cowboys. Mr. and Mrs. Morales looked awesome. Just like I remembered, except Mr. Morales has this beautiful head of snow white hair. My mother always said he was the best looking man on the street. I bet he still is.

Houston is a HUGE city. Neither Parker nor I could wait to get out of there. So big, it goes on forever. When you are driving down by the Medical Center, which is near Rice University, although it is a lovely area it feels like a prison to us country folk. Like we couldn't wait to get out Interstate 10 to the stretch of highway where the only thing on the side of the road were cows and a few dead armadillos.

But the day was a success, we have this other surgeon and I feel much more comfortable going forward. Like there is Plan A and Plan B.

Parker returns to work tomorrow. 175 days later, 25 weeks, 5 3/4 months since he first left work because he was sick, way back in March. He goes back tomorrow for a few hours. Yes, he is apprehensive. Yes, he is excited, and grateful to have a job to return to. No, he did not sleep last night and I suspect he might not tonight either unless I can drug him. Which I probably will.

I am trying minute by minute to keep myself together and focused on the future. I knew this moment would come, when I started to let my guard down and all the horror of the past months would come flooding back. The flashbacks are terrifying, the dreams never ending, remembering things that are horrific to a mother, feelings of guilt for having to be tough when Parker felt like a trapped wild animal. So much to deal with, to process and go through before I can come out at the other end of the tunnel. Back out into the light.

Dr. Garcia told Parker that for every day he was in the hospital, it will take three days for him to fully recover and feel 100%. The surgeon yesterday told Parker he needed to get 60 more lbs. off before anyone tries to repair the abdominal wall, and he told Parker he thought he should get that done in 3 months becauswe of the mesh pushing through the skin graft. That's a lot of weight to lose in 3 months, but it will make the surgery and recovery much easier and more successful. Parker is more motivated than I have ever seen him before. I am so very proud of him.