Before and After

Today we are feeling a bewildering sense of gratitude. Dr. Garcia told us the man who came in around the same time as Parker last year, with the same horrific case of acute pancreatitis, passed away. We were both stunned by the news. The nameless man left the Intermediate Care Unit a few weeks before Parker and went to a regular room, presumably to prepare to go home. He didn't make it. But Parker did. And again we ask, "Why?"

The bewildering part is because it feels wrong to be grateful at the news another person passed away. Of the four people I knew who were in the ICU at the same time as Parker, the other three were the ones the doctors expected to live. They did not expect Parker to make it, but he did. All three of the other people died. What does that mean?

The photo on the top was taken shortly after Parker had the skin graft last July which covered the mesh holding his abdomen together. The faint red marks in a circle around the skin graft show where he had those incredibly painful retention sutures that held everything in place inside his body.

The bottom photo was taken yesterday, after the doctor took off the bandages. The little circle looking things at the top of the photo are the lines that feed Lydicain continuously into his body all along the incision line. That runs out tomorrow. The two square bandages cover drains between the muscle wall and his flesh inside the body that empty into little plastic pouches pinned to his gown. This is normal fluid build up after this surgery. Those will likely stay in after we have gone home, which means I'll have to learn how to empty them.

Dr. Garcia said if things continued to progress as well as they have so far, Parker MIGHT be able to go home on Monday. We still have to get past the worrisome MRSA risk, but the catheter came out today (yipeee!) and the incision looks really good so far.

Please continue to keep Parker in your prayers as we head toward the finish line of this long road to recovery.

48 Hours Post Surgery

Parker continues to recover with relatively few complications. Yesterday his white cell count was a little high, which of course brings back scary memories. But after the extensive surgery he went through that is to be expected. I hope.

This morning he walked as far as the bathroom before he had to lay back down. The pain is manageable until he starts moving around. Dr. Turner, the plastic/reconstructive surgeon, yesterday explained what he did to rebuild the abdominal wall.

Dr. Garcia first removed the mesh that was holding Parker's abdomen together under the skin graft. Then Dr. Turner peeled back the layers of his body: skin, flesh, fascia, etc. He took the six-pack muscles which were located off to Parker's side (because of the large opening in his abdomen) and sliced them in half horizontally, sliding one section over in front of his abdomen and stitching them together side by side. Then the two surgeons sewed in mesh made from pig and human cadaver dermis for added strength, pulled everything back in the front and sewed it all back in place with staples on the outside. Now instead of looking like he has an angry red basketball on his belly it looks like he has a zipper all the way up.

We had some visitors from IMC this morning, Amy, Lindsay and Alan. It was great to see them and it made Parker's day.

Dr. Turner said yesterday if the MRSA was going to cause any problems (it is a very "opportunistic" bacteria) it would be about five days before we knew. Which is Sunday. If we can make it past Sunday without an infection the odds are much greater he will pass through this final procedure with the ease he deserves. He has been through so much.

Quinn the Medicine Dog is very happy when I get home each night. I take her out to the bathroom but she drags me over to Parker's car first, looking for him. She is a really smart dog because ~ and I swear this is true ~ when I say, "Parker's okay. Parker will be right back," she calms down immediately. Okay laugh if you want, but she knows his name because when she brings me the toy and I say, "Give it to Parker," she runs right to him. Even if there are 3 or 4 people in the room. The dog is a genius, I tell you.

Parker is going to walk again at 4:pm and hopes to be able to get the catheter out today. He hates that thing. Can't say I blame him. Next the automatic delivery of Lydicain to the wound area will be discontinued (and the doctor assures him he will know when it has run out because he will feel it), and eventually he needs to be able to control his pain with pills only, before he can go home. He has two drains on either side of his body that are keeping the fluid from building up under his skin, and those are putting out less and less every hour. Today they had to take out one of the IV's from his hand because it was starting to swell. Not sure why, but I am glad they took it out.

Will keep you posted. Please continue to keep Parker in your prayers, as well as James who will be making the trip back down here soon.

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.