Two nurses, or maybe they were angels, came from the BMT team (bone marrow transplant). Now don't panic, Colby does NOT need a bone marrow transplant!! Since we were unable to access his port yesterday, I only wanted the BEST people around to try it again today. Obviously people in the bone marrow/cancer ward access ports all day long. Colby's nurse must have warned them that I'm a completely insane, about to lose it mama, because they came in with their game faces on. They walked in and I said, "Are you all rock stars?" They just looked at me kind of funny. I said, "Are you rock stars at getting port access because I don't want just anybody trying this, I want the rock stars doing it and getting it done." They said, "Yep, we're rock stars." Good enough for me! It didn't go perfectly, what ever does in Colby's world? But Colby's heart rate stayed low. He did not need morphine and he didn't cry. They were able to both flush and draw 1 of the lumens. Thank you Lord. We decided to leave the other one for now. It's good and shouldn't need to be accessed for another 23 days or so, I think anyways.
Port access accomplished. Then the doc came in and took out Colby's IJ. Another item on the to-do list accomplished. I've gone over it 100 times in my head what we need to do to get ready for tomorrow. The BIG challenge is still ahead, the one word that absolutely makes me nauseous, EXTUBATION. I know Colby is in the best shape he can be in to try to "E". Have to try it some time. Let's get this done. Let's get home and enjoy what's left of Spring.
I have to share this story. Last night when the failed port attempts happened, I was pissed off at the world. I mean mad, frustrated, irritated, confused, flustered, all that kind of stuff. I came over to the Ronald McDonald House (we call it Ronnie Donnie) for supper. I went outside to eat by myself, as I was grumpy and not in the mood to socialize. Then this man comes outside and sits at the table next to me. Oh great, I thought, like I want to deal with this putz. Turns out I think God sent me that putz to teach me a little lesson. I started talking to him, and he is one of the sweetest, most humble, insightful people I've ever met. Get this. He and his family are from Romania. So for starters they've traveled half way around the world to get medical care for their kid. Secondly, they've been here 3 years. Yep, you read correctly, 3 long, freakin' years. Actually the mother, son and daughter have been here 3 years, the dad has been here for 2 years. That's 3 years of living away from home, being away from other family and friends, going through their son's medical treatment. And you know what? His attitude was one of thankfulness and gratitude, while we've only been here 3 weeks and only live 100 miles away and my attitude was perfectly sucky. I enjoyed talking to him so much. He told me the name of his son's disease, but I forgot, something intestinal. While receiving treatment in Romania the docs over there gave too many antibiotics and now the child is also deaf. Not once did that man complain. He just stated it simply facts how things were, just shared his story. I can only imagine the look on my face and I'm pretty sure my chin hit the table. I asked him how do you do it? How do you keep it together? He paused for a long time, looked down at his plate. Then he said, in broken English, "It's my son. That's what we need to do, yah?" Then I got tickled because he looked at his plate again, pointed at his fork and said, "What do you call this?" I just chuckled and answered, "It's meatloaf." Guessing it's not a big entree in Romania! That's my warm and fuzzy moment for the week. I don't have a lot of them, but I'm so glad I met this family. When you pray tonight that Colby's extubation goes smoothly tomorrow, and I know you will, please include a prayer for Benjamin, "Benji", that he gets better and this family can return home soon. Thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment