Sounds of a Sleeping Child

I'm sitting in Parker's room watching him sleep, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, and feeling quite blessed that there are no other sounds except the noise from the table top fan which is a constant presence. There are no beep, beep, beeps and click, click, clicks of the heart monitor. No whooshing of the ventilator he was hooked up to when his lungs failed last year. And on this floor there are no bugle sounds which means another patient has stopped breathing. Just the sounds of my son sleeping peacefully.

The surgery went as well as they had had hoped. Before the surgery he had a 13" circle where the skin graft and mesh covered up the opening in his abdomen. (See April 12-May 21st posts for all the gory details of his surgeries last year). Two surgeons worked on him yesterday, Dr. Garcia who was his primary surgeon last year, and Dr. Turner who was the plastic surgeon who did the skin graft in July.

Yesterday they removed the old mesh, cleaned out the scar tissue from all the procedures last year, sliced his six-pack muscles horizontally and slid them over in front of his stomach. They used a collagen mesh material (no, they ended up not using the pig and human cadaver dermis), pulled his abdomen back into place and stitched it all up from the inside out. So now instead of the big circle of skin graft on his belly, he has a 1" wide scar down his front about 15" from top to bottom. Kind of like a zipper.

He is still sad over the loss of his belly button, but maybe we can make one for him like you do for a teddy bear. Parker said only aliens don't have belly buttons. But to be honest, what he has now is going to be so much easier to look at than the huge skin graft he's had since July.

And there I go sounding so ungrateful, worrying about appearance. I'm not ungrateful. In fact, I am so grateful he lived I have changed my entire life. This event has changed me, changed my life (www.literacyforhope.org), changed both my sons, and I am told has changed almost everyone who knows Parker. It is a miracle he is alive, a miracle and a blessing.

Yesterday when he first got up to his regular room from post-surgery, he got teary eyed and his first words to me were, "We did it Mom. It's over! We're done!" We both cried. It has been such a long journey.

His second words were, "Oh *#$%!!! This hurts!"

Yes, it is going to hurt. A lot. But he is alive. Thank you God. My son lives.