Thank You, Thanksgiving

I had a really great time today catching up with two different far-away friends who were in Portland visiting family for Thanksgiving.

I saw Katy (and her husband Adam) and their three kids at her mom's house in Lake Oswego.  It was a short visit, but fun nonetheless, as they have added a baby boy to the two girls in their family since we moved away from Bend.  Her girls are close in age to my boys, and she is one of the few full-time stay-at-home moms I know, so we have common challenges and concerns in our lives right now.  For example, our deteriorating ability to have a conversation with an adult.  I was also somewhat relieved to see their almost three year-old daughter revel in her crabbiness and create a lot of drama.  I am not alone.

When we got back to Camas, we had a visit from our friend Kylee from Boise.  She was an art student of our friend Amanda's and a babysitter extraordinaire.  The only non-family babysitter our boys had ever had.  Kylee is at a very different place in the life experience spectrum--she finished her undergrad last year and is in that interesting and sometimes frustrating (well, for me it was) season when one tries to gracefully navigate the big unknown of what comes next.

It was truly a pleasure to spend time with these two women today (or yesterday now, I guess) and to be let into their lives a little bit, even though we don't see one another very often.  I hope it's helped motivate me to be more proactive in making friends here, and to take advantage of the connections we already have in the area.  Blogs are nice for keeping in touch and all, but they're a poor substitute for conversation over tea, or watching Nels and my friend's daughter stretched out on the floor reading a Disney book together. 

Nothing Much Going On Around Here. Hooray.

It really is a slow news day, and that's a good thing.  I introduced the boys to Malt-O-Meal this morning.  It was a hit with Willem, a gag-inducing miss with Nels.  

We showed the movie Wall-E to the boys this weekend, and they are both officially obsessed with it.  I thought the sounds were genius (it was the first time I ever even noticed sounds in a movie) but the story was so weak as to spoil my enjoyment. 

Something I DID enjoy was an interview with director Spike Jonze about the movie of Where The Wild Things Are on Ain't It Cool News.  The article is really long, but they cover a lot of ground.  They discuss everything from the laborious process Jonze used to create the Wild Things to the true wildness of childhood, as opposed to the sanitized version we're often presented with.  Lots of food for thought.  If you decide not to slog through the entire article, be sure to scroll all the way down to the end for two images from the movie.

I also ran across this article on Slate about the lolcats.  I don't know what's more embarrassing--that I never heard about the website "I Can Has Cheezburger" before reading the article, or that I find it hilarious.  Only about 1 in 50 submissions is really funny, but I love how it creates its own little universe.  Read the article and then check out the site if you haven't already.  It takes a bit of familiarity before you can really appreciate how good the good ones are.  

I leave you with an example:

more animals

Show and Tell

I thought I'd post some photos from the past week.  I'm leaving out the gruesome ones (no ICU pictures at all), so no need to proceed with caution.  The last one is of Willem at home showing off his battle scars, just so you know.  Being a huge crybaby myself, that's the kind of thing I tear up over when I'm not expecting it.

Here's Willem in the "holding room" before the surgery.  They give the kids some medicine to make them tired and loopy before they take them in and administer the general anaesthesia. We shamelessly got some video of Willem giggling in my face in a very drunken manner.

Prior to the surgery, Willem's heartbeat ALWAYS elicited raised eyebrows from everyone (except cardiologists) who heard it.  The chief anaesthesiologist on the case was no exception.  In fact, he asked if we minded if he told some of the med students to come have a listen.  We didn't mind, and the comic sight of the students lining up to chat up Willem before springing their stethoscopes on him was a welcome distraction.  That's what the assisting anaesthesiologist is doing in the photo above.

After Willem was almost asleep, they had me carry him down the hall to just in front of the doors of the operating room, where I handed him off.  I found this to be a far more humane procedure than having them wheel him away from us in a bed.  The sight of him in someone else's arms made me feel like they would be caring for my child, rather than making it feel like a purely scientific/medical endeavor.  Gotta love my "trying not to freak out" face.

A grape Popsicle made an excellent early meal.  Here is Grandma looking through the book that Nels's preschool made for Willem.

Willem's Auntie Kim and Uncle Cory got him finger puppets for his birthday, figuring they would make convenient hospital toys.  Here are Grandpa, Willem, and two of their animal friends checking out the glow-in-the-dark moon and stars built into the ceiling before the four of them settle in to watch a movie.

A barbershop quartet came around and sang to all the patients.  Willem listened intently to a medley of American tunes and then proclaimed, "I don't want to go home."

I didn't get great photos, but I had to put these up for those of you who've never seen OHSU.  Pictured here is the "sky bridge" that runs from Doernbecher's to the VA hospital.  I ventured over it once.  I have a minor fear of heights.  At least the views are spectacular.

Here's the view from the hallway outside the surgery waiting room.  It's a pretty good distraction.  Just to the right of center, you can see the aerial tram.  Which I rode.  Unhappily.

The doctors warned us that Willem would be grouchy (check), disobedient (check), and likely have nightmares (check) upon his return home.  They told us to encourage him to express his feelings about his experience through things like role play.  He needed no encouraging from us:  Me-ma's book light was immediately employed in a thorough examination of her mouth.  The boys have been performing surgery (with lasers) on me all week, and I have been informed that Spiderman had his heart fixed.  It's been really interesting to watch Willem work through it all.

Below you see the first time Willem willingly showed us his chest.  Alas, it has now become his new party trick.  A mom from my MOPS group dropped off dinner for us the other night, and Willem lifted up his shirt and yelled "Look!"  In the photo you can see his incision, the stitch where the chest drainage tube was, and the two bandaids over where the pacemaker wires came out.  The stitch came out on Tuesday and he took the bandaids off himself last night.

So, hopefully this will be the last of the medically-themed posts for a while.  I have a lot of other important things to write about, like raincoats.  

It's wet here.  But I'm not going fishing; I don't need a big yellow or green slicker.  I'm not going to be sporty; I don't need an anorak or ski/snowboard jacket.  I don't work in an office or live in the big city; I don't need a trench coat. How's a stay-at-home mom to keep dry without being dumpy(er) or overdressed?  Yep.  I've got big things on my mind.

What's the Average Lifespan of a Bulimic Cat?

We probably should have looked into that before we bought a house with wall-to-wall carpet.  Or at least budgeted to replace the carpet with something mop-able.

Ugh.

Crisis Mode is Hard; Recovery Mode is Tiring

Any time one anticipates a major event, there is bound to be a let-down period after the event occurs.  That's where I am right now.

The surgery and the critical time in the hospital were extreme, but in some ways that helped make them easier to get through.  The focus was single-minded:  comfort Willem; be with Willem; restrain Willem when necessary.

I hardly slept for three nights; if the nurses weren't coming in to administer meds or check his vitals, then Willem's fitful sleep was disturbed by nightmares.  "Mom!" he would call out in a new, distinct way, with an urgency I'd never heard before.  And I'd pop out of bed and put my hand on his forehead and soothe him back into his uneasy sleep.  That's what I was there for.

Now we're home, and the same level of vigilance is not required.  And I no longer have the "We WILL get through this" mentality to energize me.

We DID get through it.  And I am SO thankful for that.  But Willem still calls "Mom!" in his sleep in that new tone of voice.  And he has been as vigorously disobedient as the doctors warned he might be.  Nels, the most sensitive little boy you're ever likely to meet, has been alternating between losing his temper and falling to pieces by wailing in a heap on the floor every time we tell him something he doesn't want to hear.

All of these things are a little more difficult to handle gracefully once one falls even farther behind on sleep and is no longer in emergency mode.

Today I took Willem to the pediatrician for a follow-up appointment.  (He'll see the cardiologist next week.)  He did great until it was time to take out the one remaining stitch from where his chest drainage tube was.  It took 3 adults to hold him down, and all that hospital sympathy I had for him came flooding back.

If only that sympathy would last.  It's easy to rise to the occasion when the stakes are high.  The day-in, day-out love is harder.  I struggle to remain kind when Willem spends a good part of his day intentionally pushing all of my buttons.

We're all just a little beat and out of sorts as we absorb what's happened in the past week.  A little rest, a little "normal" life, and I'm guessing we'll be much better.

And what a luxury that is.  Our health issue was only an isolated incident this time.  I can't imagine what it's like for families with a member who needs ongoing hospital care, and must figure out a long-term way to synthesize the "crisis" and "everyday" modes.  It's draining.  Thanks to our experience, I'll be paying a lot more attention these days to how I can support people in that situation.

We're Home!

That's right, home.  Can you believe it?  

Yes, we're home, and just in the nick of time.  I expected Willem to be sleepy from his medication, but, instead, the hospital environment has seriously disrupted his sleep schedule and he has slept only about half as much as he usually does for the past three days. 

A tired Willem is a terrible thing to behold, even on the best of days.  Thus I find myself in the strange position of wanting to strangle my poor darling three-year old child who has just been through the most trying experience of his life.  Of course, I'm a little behind on sleep myself.  In my case this resulted in tears at the dinner table because I thought Shaun was looking at me funny.

Anyhow, there will be more tales to tell of our interesting experiences, but I just wanted to share our happy news.  If today is any indication, we will have a stressful week or two ahead of us as Willem heals up and gets his sleep back on schedule.  Other challenges include trying to remember not to pick Willem up underneath the arms for six weeks and preventing him and Nels from wrestling with one another, an activity they usually engage in several times a day.

So, that's the latest, and I'm glad the hospital portion of this latest adventure has come to a close.  I'm off to sleep on my own pillow in a room that doesn't beep.  Good night!

MAYbe Everybody Says It Because It's True

"Oh, but little kids heal so fast.  It's amazing."

You may have heard this.  I certainly have, and I've never had reason to doubt it.  I've also heard lots of stories in which young whippersnappers have heart surgery and are up and about the next day.  I believed these stories, but my mind filed them in the "anecdotal evidence" category.  It seemed presumptuous to count on such a thing happening in our case.

Well, today Willem ate a bit at every meal.  He drank a lot of milk.  He came off all the monitors.  His chest tube was removed (poor kid--I would have totally freaked if I were anticipating that, and he was none too thrilled), he went for a first walk, and he had his first poop.  

After that first little walk down the hall, he found his feet and wanted to go to the play room.  He was all OVER the place, playing like nothing was wrong.  He bent over to retrieve toys, dragged an enormous basket of dinosaurs across the room, and had to be told repeatedly that he was not allowed to climb a bench.  I had to tell him NOT TO RUN.

Now the only hardware he's left with are an IV in his hand (not hooked up to anything most of the time) for administering a few medicines and the two slim pacemaker wires that are lightly attached to the surface of his heart.  These are always put on as a precaution, and they are the last thing to be removed.

There has been talk of Willem possibly going home tomorrow, not that Shaun and I are quite sure that WE'RE ready for that.  So, yeah, little kids do heal so fast.  It's amazing.