Tag: GI

Procedure Today

Published on by Jamie Grant5 Comments

Sam will have an endoscopy and bronchoscopy this afternoon. This procedure was planned to be outpatient at another location before Sam was hospitalized. The only fact we know right now, is that his ENT (ear, nose, and throat) will be there to do the bronchoscopy. We don’t know yet if another pediatric GI (tummy) doctor will do the endoscopy or his GI doctor. I’m hoping and praying his GI doctor will be able to be in on the procedure and his surgeon, as this was the original plan. There isn’t a GI doctor we don’t know here, and I’m confident in all of their abilities, and there’s comfort in having the one who knows him best in the OR (operating room) with him.

Sam is doing really well and I’m trying to keep him as occupied as possible. We are very thankful for Child Life services. He has way too much iPad time when we are here, but I have to let that go and am very thankful for it. We just might have to do some iPad weaning when we get home.

I had my second PICC line training and am feeling much better about that. When the trainer told me the pump and his TPN (nutrition) will all go into a backpack Sam will wear, she…made…my…year. I was envisioning we would have to follow Sam around the house with an IV pole. Imagine my concern with that and the combination of the Energizer Bunny and the Tasmanian devil. We don’t get that luxury while we’re in the hospital, but boy am I thankful for it when we go home!

It sounds like they are working on getting his TPN down to twelve hours a day. Once he’s stable on the twelve hours for a couple of days, we can break out of jail! I’m hoping and praying this will be before Thanksgiving. High hopes, low expectations.

Prayers for a miracle that all of Sam’s doctors will be able to be at the procedure today. Prayers for wisdom and discernment for whoever is in the OR with him. Prayers we will make it out of here before Thanksgiving!

Faith Over Fear

Sam Strong

The Plan

Published on by Jamie Grant2 Comments

Ready for surgery!

Sam’s PICC line procedure went well, as we expected it would. He recovered great.

He’s been doing really well, but these four white walls get very boring, very fast for a curious, busy little boy. When the doctors ask what Sam is like when he’s healthy, I tell them he’s a combination of the Energizer Bunny and the Tasmanian devil. They always think that’s funny, but I’m actually not kidding. He’s not quite there yet, but we’re getting really close.

We love when Music Therapy comes and when Child Life brings new toys or other things to try keep Sam busy. We also improvise a lot, like playing in the sink for a while, coloring with crayons on the crib sheet, making a fort with the crib, ‘taping’ the walls with med tape, etc.

Music Therapy soothes the soul.

We’ll be stuck here until I’m done with the PICC line teaching and they get his TPN (nutrition) figured out. I had my first teaching today and will have another one on Sunday. We’ll be out on Monday, but have to go to St. Paul for his procedure that was scheduled a while ago. Then hopefully home Monday night!

That was the plan until it got changed again. Ugg. After that plan changed and my PICC line teaching this morning, I had a moment. Sometimes you just need a good cry. The bad news of having to stay longer and being overwhelmed with going home with a PICC line came crashing on my heart all at once.

In between the moments a friend sent me this.

AS YOU LOOK at the day before you, you see a twisted, complicated path, with branches going off in all directions. You wonder how you can possibly find your way through that maze. Then you remember the One who is with you always, holding you by your right hand. You recall My promise to guide you with My counsel, and you begin to relax. As you look again at the path ahead, you notice that a peaceful fog has settled over it, obscuring your view. You can see only a few steps in front of you, so you turn your attention more fully to Me and begin to enjoy My Presence.

The fog is a protection for you, calling you back into the present moment. Although I inhabit all of space and time, you can communicate with Me only here and now. Someday the fog will no longer be necessary, for you will have learned to keep your focus on Me and on the path just ahead of you.

Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. —PSALM 73:23–24

Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. —PSALM 25:4–5

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. —1 CORINTHIANS 13:12

Text From a Friend


The floodgates of tears came crashing after reading that. It was exactly what I needed in that exact moment. God continues to sustain me. It’s hard for me not to bring up my faith in these moments, because that is where all of my strength comes from.

The PICC line teaching felt like a lot. The nurses keep telling me if you can do a trach, you can do a PICC line. Very true. I still have another teaching and am incredibly thankful for home care nursing. I’m hoping, and guessing, I’ll feel better after another teaching. I got this!

The new plan is to go from here to the St. Paul campus for Sam’s endoscopy with his GI doctor and surgeon, then a bronchoscopy with his ENT. We have to stay a few nights in St. Paul until the pharmacy gets his TPN (nutrition) figured out for at home. Bummer. They tried to switch the procedure on Monday to Minneapolis, but couldn’t find any open OR (operating room) times.

Every time I have a minute to write, the plan changes! And now another new plan. They were able to get an OR time here so we will not have to transfer to St.Paul!!! Although we will need to be here for four to six more days for them to figure out his TPN (nutrition), not having to transfer to another hospital was the best news!!!

Prayers the plan will not change unless it involves us going home sooner. Prayers they can get his TPN figured out soon. Prayers for continued wisdom and discernment for Sam’s doctors. Prayers for healing for Sam’s gut. Continued prayers for peace, comfort, and strength for us.

Faith Over Fear

Sam Strong

It’s so good to see that smile again.
Thanks for making me better Sam!

He Made It

Published on by Jamie Grant13 Comments

It was a rough weekend, but he made it. He’s been needing some oxygen support, but we still have room to go up. Nice job, my little warrior.

Now, prayers for his procedure today! Pray for the doctor involved. She knows Sam, but is not his primary GI doctor, which isn’t unusual for Sam when he is having a dilation. Pray for the anesthesiologist and the rest of the team who will care for Sam. Pray for no complications and that we’ll be able to come home today. Pray there is an easy fix and nothing else is going on. Pray for peace and continued strength for all of us.

Faith Over Fear

Sam Strong

Prayers to Stay Home

Published on by Jamie Grant8 Comments

They were able to schedule Sam’s next procedure with his GI doctor, surgeon, and ENT for November 21st. Unfortunately, his little esophagus is seeming like it won’t wait that long.

After this last hospital stay, Sam’s respiratory doctor agreed it would be a good idea to keep him out of school until his next procedure. I get it. As much as I want Sam in school, I think the risks outweigh the benefits at the moment. We don’t need anything else on top of what’s going on medically.

Sam is really miserable right now, but we are home. His symptoms are indicating he needs another dilation. Hopefully, that’s all it is.

We called the weekend, on call GI doctor. Thankfully, instead of telling us to take him to the emergency room, she got him on the surgery schedule for Monday morning. I cannot tell you how happy I was about that. My heart was really dreading another hospital stay.

For whatever reason when Sam needs a dilation, he doesn’t tolerate his feeds. We are running Pedialyte at the lowest rate possible to hopefully keep him hydrated enough until Monday morning and avoid a hospital stay.

Please pray Sam will tolerate the Pedialyte and be able to stay home until Monday. Pray there is nothing else going on. This poor little boy could really catch a break.

Prayers for our stamina as we are tired. This fall has been hard. Prayers to calm our hearts as questions and concerns are hard to push aside right now.

I’m thankful to believe in a God who loves my little boy even more than I do, and that He will comfort and sustain all of us.

Faith Over Fear

Sam Strong

When Bad News Almost Feels Like Good News

Published on by Jamie Grant6 Comments

When bad news means fixable answers to questions you’ve been pondering, about your child’s health, sadly, it almost feels like good news.

I have to start by saying, we didn’t even get asked for Sam’s name when checked in at the surgery desk. I don’t think that was the first time. Many of the staff in surgery are on a first name basis with Sam. It is the most lousy and endearing feeling all in one.

Today was not so great, but it could be much worse. Sam’s ENT told us, “Most kids go one, two, and maybe three, but Sam goes one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…”

In order for me not to write a book, I can tell you…

…Sam’s last surgery did not work. They did part of the surgery, but the rest will not get done until all the GI (tummy) stuff gets figured out.

…his esophagus needed to be dilated, AGAIN.

…they couldn’t check to see if his nissen surgery came unwrapped, which would be for the fourth time, because they weren’t able to pass the scope through. They will likely do other testing to check on this.

…we will wait to see what the biopsies tell us.

…Sam will likely get a more complicated feeding tube placed when they dilate his esophagus, AGAIN in four to six weeks.

Although there was quite a bit of heavy news, everything is fixable and that is the good news. The other good news is we were able to find answers to the elcalated retching and aspiration episodes. What’s another surgery when you’ve had more than thirty and you’re not even three years old yet?! I’m close to forty and I haven’t even had one people!

Even more good news, Sam recovered amazingly, once again. He makes anesthesia look easy. He makes surgery look easy. He makes hard stuff look easy, period. Maybe he really is Superman. He’s our Superman, that’s for sure.

“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.” James 1:2

The Appointment

Published on by Jamie Grant6 Comments

I called Sam’s ENT to find out when we were going to schedule his bronchoscopy, the test they decided to do instead of the swallow study, to find out if his last surgery worked or not. I figured since I had already talked to Sam’s ENT previously, he would just say to go ahead and schedule the bronchoscopy. I was wrong. He wanted to see us in the clinic first. What?! Usually, during cold and flu season, Sam’s docs try to keep us out of their offices. You see, I’ve known this doctor for over two years now. He doesn’t give bad news over the phone. What bad news could he give us though? It didn’t make sense to me. My mind was racing on why he wanted us to come to the clinic.

I didn’t make up too much in my head. Here’s where my thoughts went. They would do a bronchcoscopy and if the surgery didn’t work, Sam’s ENT would send us to Cincinnati. I’m sure you’re wondering why in the world I would think that. A little history…

When Sam was first diagnosed with a Type II Laryngeal Cleft, the day after he had his third code, his ENT told us if Sam was a Type III or IV, he wouldn’t touch him and would send us to Cincinnati, the pediatric airway hospital of the world. We now know Sam’s cleft is a severe Type II, very close to Type III. They range from a I to a IV, a type IV being the worst case scenario. Kids with a Type IV don’t generally make it. If any of that makes sense, that’s why I made up he might send us to Cincinnati, which if I thought a lot about it, felt very overwhelming. I couldn’t think of any other bad news he might give us. I wasn’t even sure he was gong to give us bad news. I was only assuming.

I know they say, never assume, but I have to say, in this situation, I’m glad I did.

We waited about a month from the time we scheduled the appointment to the day of. Like Dr. Sues says, the Waiting Place is “a most useless place”. For the most part, I was able to stay out of the Waiting Place.

Appointment day…

We learned, Sam’s ENT did have us come in because he was going to deliver, what he thought, was bad news. He told us they would do another bronchcoscopy to see if Sam’s surgery worked. If it didn’t work, they would do the surgery again. Whew. I told him what I had made up in my head. He laughed and said he could send us there if we wanted. Nope! I know, without a doubt, our ENT has Sam’s best interest in mind, and if he did not feel qualified, he wouldn’t have done the surgery. I’ve been told by more than one person, and it’s evident, he holds a special place in his heart for Sam. Every time we see him, he reminds me how sick Sam was. He is always amazed at how well Sam is doing now.

His other bad news was that it will be highly unlikely Sam will be decanulated this year because of all of his aspirating episodes. In other words, it’s not likely Sam will get his trach out until next year. Also, not a big shocker for us. We had already suspected that was going to be the case, knowing he has been aspirating a lot. Again, I’m glad I assumed, better yet, mentally prepared myself for this appointment.

In the meantime, like I mentioned in my previous post, Sam has been having some new GI (tummy) issues. Next Monday, Sam will have a bronchcoscopy with two ENT surgeons with the possibility of surgery, and now they have also added an upper endoscopy with a GI doctor, to hopefully be able to answer questions on Sam’s GI stuff.

Pray for Sam on Monday. The older he gets, the more aware he becomes. He will be put under for the thirty somethingth time and that doesn’t mean it gets easier for him or us. Pray the last surgery worked and they will not have to do it again. Pray we will get easy, fixable answers to his GI issues.

This kid sure likes to keep a lot of really smart, highly educated people, and his family guessing. He might be adding some gray hairs, but he is definitely worth it.

20190311_180428

Pseudomonas

Published on by Jamie Grant5 Comments

Well, it’s been a bit since my last post. If you can imagine, life gets a little busy juggling a complex child and three other kids. Not too long ago, someone bought me a journal. The cover reads, “There are no ordinary days.” So true, for all of us, really. Although, if I’m being completely honest, I can think of countless ordinary days before Sam. When I talk about my ordinary days to my close people, they would tell you my days are not so ordinary. I’m okay with that. We usually laugh and I say, “You can’t make this stuff up!” Laughter, for sure, is the best medicine. Thank you to my besties for listening about my not so ordinary days. I couldn’t do this journey without you.

We did end up having to spend Sam’s anniversary in the hospital, but thankfully we did not get admitted. It couldn’t have been more than an hour after I posted my last post, we were instructed to take Sam in. Bummer. He was a pretty sick little guy. Poor buddy. Although, it was the fastest trip to the Children’s ER we’ve ever had. Like any of our ER visits, they did blood work, a trach culture, and x-rays. Round trip, it was only five hours. That’s record time!  The nurse in the ER congratulated Sam on his anniversary. We all laughed, agreeing he had to pay a visit to his alma mater for his anniversary. Laughter, the best medicine.

Okay, so how many of you Googled that one? Pseudomonas? It is the type of infection or type of tracheitis Sam had growing on his trach culture. It’s not the first time Sam’s had it. It’s a scary one and we do everything on our part to keep it away from Sam, but unfortunately there’s only so much we can do. It’s not something us normal people have to worry about. You’d have to have an artificial airway, like Sam, or an open burn wound, or be in a hospital hooked up to a bunch of stuff. Thankfully, we were able to treat it this time and once we knew what it was, we were able to treat it quickly.

I’d like to say things have been going really well for Sam since then. Let’s just say, we’ve had an eventful February. Sam’s has some GI stuff going on. Pray we can get it figured out and get him back on track, or at least back on “his” track.

There’s no doubt, this kid keeps all of us on our toes!

Sam’s been walking since November and I’ve been meaning to post a video since then. Here it finally is! Click here to see Sam walk!

Sam strong!

Sam Update

Published on by Jamie Grant5 Comments

Sam continues to keep all of us on our toes, but he’s had a really good, very healthy, last couple of months.

We did have one trip to the Children’s ER in November, but that’s only because we don’t have any other place to go. Sam decided to eat the heck out of a purple colored pencil, yes folks, a colored pencil. You don’t eat food, but you’ll gnaw on a colored pencil?! My thoughts exactly. I had no idea he was even chewing on anything. He was standing in front of the TV, watching who knows what. He coughed. Like normal, I went to suction him. Oh boy!!! Purple colored pencil everywhere! And then the scary part. Purple was literally spilling out of his trach. Not good folks! I had to suction him a good ten to fifteen times before his secretions were clear again. Kinda gross, I know. There were actually small specks of purple colored pencil in the suction tubing. Oh great. My first thought, aspiration pneumonia. After we finally suctioned all of the purple out, Mr. Superman went about his normal mischievous behavior acting as if nothing had even happened.

I went to bed mentally preparing myself it could be a long night. Nope. He slept great and showed no signs of aspiration pneumonia. Whew. It wasn’t until his speech pathologist at feeding clinic reminded us of the three day a week antibiotic Sam is on, which has been a God send for Sam this past year, that it dawned on us. Oh yeah, it’s highly likely the antibiotic kicked anything that may have tried to brew. Thank goodness. Aspiration pneumonia is not pretty.

The next day, I wasn’t worried at all. One thing I’ve learned about aspiration pneumonia is it comes on very quickly. Sam’s doctor still wanted him to be observed and x-rays done to be safe; hence, a very long, eight hour trip to the Children’s ER. It felt a little silly to me, but I can’t complain about an overly cautious doctor, right?! No, we are incredibly thankful for this doctor who has saved Sam’s life more than once.

Feeding therapy…

We’ve been going to feeding clinic for a couple of months now. This is a new, scary, and fun thing for us because it’s the first therapy we’ve been able to do outside our house. For the past two years, all the therapies have come to us, which has been and still is, awesome. Although there’s something about taking your baby, yes, I know he’s a toddler now, just let me have my moment, out in public. Sam is so darn friendly, waving at every person who walks by him. I feel like I have to say hi to people for him since he doesn’t have a voice. Most the time he’s just waving and no one sees him. Once they do, they can’t resist his sweet smile and the big, “Hello, I’m Sam.”, wave. Okay, okay, onto feeding clinic.

Although, he has a long way to go, he has made a lot of progress. In the past, even when Sam would touch different foods, he would instantly gag. Up until a couple of months ago, if food even came near his mouth, he would gag and end up needing lots of suctioning. Now, he rarely gags. In order for Sam to even be able to do a swallow study, he has to be able to drink an entire med cup (like the cup you get when you buy children’s ibuprofen or Tylenol) of a thickened liquid. Let’s just say, although he’s come a long way, he’s not even close to that. He’ll get there!

Because of the aspiration episode, Sam’s ENT has decided to do an endoscopy instead of waiting until he is able to do a swallow study. It’s kind of a bummer because it’s another sedation for Sam, but it will give us a concrete answer if the last surgery worked or not. It will tell us if the hole in Sam’s airway has been repaired.

Two years ago today, we brought Sam home with us for the very first time after living in the hospital for seven months. The word that comes to mind from two years ago…terrifying. I remember thinking… There’s no code blue button at home. There’s no button to push where thirty something people will immediately rush into Sam’s room and save his life. His life is now in our hands. I am not a doctor. I am not a nurse. I am just a mama, but we’ve got this. When Sam was seven months old, developmentally he was like a newborn. He couldn’t lift his head on his own and only moved his arms legs. Most didn’t think Sam would make it out of that hospital. Not only did he make it home, he’s thriving! He is now walking! He’s actually been walking since the end of November, but I realized I never posted this super exciting milestone. A milestone two years ago, that was not promising.

That was a bit long winded!

I guess I shouldn’t have bragged how healthy Sam has been. I’ve been working on this post the past few weeks or so, excited to publish it on his anniversary. And now, I’m sitting here, sleep deprived, with a very sick little boy, hoping and praying we don’t have to spend his anniversary in the hospital.

 

The Long Story on the Big Surgery

Published on by Jamie Grant12 Comments

I have to admit, on the inside, I was a complete wreck the few weeks leading up to the surgery. My head was telling my heart things that were not pretty. Although, they were all justifiable, I was worrying, which I means, in my opinion, I wasn’t trusting God. When your surgeon tells you, many times, over a two year period, if the surgery doesn’t go well, we won’t take our son home with us, as in he will not make it, you can probably imagine, what was going through my head.

My husband would tell you he was pretty much a punching bag the last few days before surgery. He’s right. I can only say thank you to him for letting me. Ya know the whole Yin and Yang thing? Well, l can tell you, after twenty years. It’s for real, at least with us, it is. Corny, I know, but I couldn’t do this journey as well as I have without him by my side.

The day of surgery was, of course busy, but quiet. Sam’s nurse even commented on how unusually quiet Sean and I were that morning. We had Sam’s normal six bags to leave the house and this time, my suitcase packed. His normal bags, just to leave the house, include oxygen, an emergency bag (the size of a large diaper bag), feeding backpack, suction machine, pulse oximeter, and of course, a regular diaper bag. Although you would find many things in Sam’s regular diaper bag you would not in a typical toddlers diaper bag. Sam had his nebs, meds, a bath, trach and g-tube (feeding tube) cares done. On the outside, we were all ready to go.

Our nurse helped us pack Sam in the van and we were off, me driving and Sean in the back. Someone always has to be with Sam in the back, in case he needs to be suctioned or any other nursing duties need to be done. When we arrived at the hospital, Sean and I realized neither of us said a word to each other the entire drive, which is not normal for us. Later, Sean told me he was planning Sam’s funeral in his head. My thoughts weren’t very far off from his. My stomach was in knots. When we finally got to the hospital, we found our normal handicap spot and sat there silently for what felt like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. As we started unpacking the van, Sean suggested going home. I said, okay, with a smile. I think we were both a bit serious, but knew we couldn’t.

We unpacked all of Sam’s things, strategically placed them in their special spots on the stroller, and again, quietly walked across the skyway to the Welcome Desk at Children’s, like we have so many times.

Sam was more than ready. Per the anesthesiologist who saw him this time, you would think he would not be this happy here, especially considering how many times he has had to go through this. He’s a trooper alright.

We said goodbye to Sam for the thirty somethingth time and went to our usual private family waiting room in the surgery waiting area. Eat. Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait…

Thankfully, there was a GI surgeon to check Sam out before the surgery to make sure he didn’t need another dilation, which would have cancelled the surgery, again. Sean would tell you he was kind of hoping that’s what would have happened. When GI was done, as they always do, he came and showed us the results. I’ve seen A LOT of pictures of Sam’s esophagus, and for the first time in Sam’s life, it looked beautiful!

As soon as the GI surgeon walked out of the room, Sean and I just looked at each other with fear in our eyes. I told him, “He’s (Sam) got this.” And again, we waited. Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait. Pray. Wait…

About two and a half hours later, which really isn’t too long in our world of surgery waiting time, Sam’s ENT surgeon walked into the room with a big smile on his face, two hands in the air, both his pointer and middle fingers crossed. Whew. I’ve been told he’s not a surgeon to be nervous or at least show any nervousness. He was definitely nervous that day. In the two years, we’ve know him, I’ve only seen him nervous once. He was very happy, but told us not to thank him yet, and “knocked on wood” several times. He looked at me with sincere relief, reminding me of what could have happened, and I know, a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

The reason Sam’s ENT didn’t want us to thank him yet is because we won’t know until November 27th if the surgery worked or not. Basically they sewed the hole in Sam’s airway shut and the sutures can easily break open, especially when Sam refluxes, which is something he does quite a bit.

They will do a swallow study to make sure the food only goes down his esophagus and not into his lungs. I’m not sure how they do a swallow study on a kid who’s never eaten anything by mouth. No one else seems to know the answer to that question either, but they scheduled the appointment so someone must know the answer. We’ll see. I like to burn those bridges when we get there. There’s no sense in worrying about something I have no control over. Yes, I’m eating my words right now. ; )

We will go into the appointment with high hopes, low expectations. As some of you might recall, I wrote about this on Sam’s CaringBridge back in August of 2017. My thoughts haven’t changed…

High hopes, but low expectations, leaves less room for disappointment. Some might disagree, but I believe life is easier this way and there leaves little room for premeditated resentment. William Shakespeare once wrote, “Expectation is the root of all heartache”. I think he was pretty spot on. In life, there is very little we can control. I want my kids to see I choose happiness over hopelessness and faith over fear in every situation we face. I want them to see how attitude can change everything, even when things don’t go the way we think they should.

I hope you have a Happy Thanksgiving! I know my list of things to be thankful for is pretty long, life being my number one, right now. One of Sam’s nurses shared with me something her wise mother, in my opinion, encouraged her to do every day, ever since she was a little girl. She told her, no matter what she’s going through, each day, find three things to be thankful for. Life isn’t perfect, we are not perfect, but I’ve found gratitude can sure make the road quite a bit smoother.

Short Story on the Big Surgery Today

Published on by Jamie Grant5 Comments

Surgery is done.

We are home.

We’ll find out in four weeks if it worked or not.

Besides a few, quick scary moments, Sam is doing awesome!

We are very tired, and even more, mentally drained.

We can’t thank you enough for your prayers and meals!

That’s the short story. The longer version is coming soon…

Sam Strong!

Faith Over Fear!