Day one post-op was not great, but anyone who has a major surgery would not be great on the first day. He had a really rough first night. Sleep was at a bare minimum for both of us. He needed a lot of suctioning (his trach) and had a lot of retching (throwing up).
Day two was rough with some good sleep periods, but he was miserable when he was awake. Overall, he slept good that night. Progress.
Day three he showed a glimpse of hope in the morning. He melted some hearts with a few smiles. He went downhill fast later in the morning. At first, it looked like a curve ball, but then as I payed more attention to his symptoms, a light bulb went off. Intussusception. Ugh. Poor guy. I prayed the intussusception would resolve on its own so we wouldn’t have a real curveball.
We tried so hard to stay away from the morphine, but by late afternoon I caved per his nurse’s gentle nudge of encouragement that’s it’s probably a good idea. It was a good idea. It definitely helped. Intussusception comes and goes in waves and is apparently very painful. Your small intestines are not suppose to telescope in and out of each other. The only thing to do is wait and hope it resolves on its own. With a few more doses of morphine that day and throughout the night, he slept really well. It was looking like Sam would hit this curveball out of the park.
Day four, he woke up happy and sat up for the first time! He was playful in bed the whole morning and had fun with music therapy. Music therapy. It gets my heart every time. She started singing the “Hello” song and the tears dripped down my face like a faucet. I couldn’t control them if I tried. It’s the same song I’ve heard the last six years from several different music therapists. Moments of Sam’s little life flash through my mind like a trailer for a movie. I feel every emotion possible in a matter of seconds so deep in my soul, I can’t control the lump in my throat and the tears that follow. After it’s over, they are good tears, the ones that have to happen once in a while to keep me going. I’m thankful for a God who meets me right where I am at.
In the afternoon Sam got a break from all his cords. I decided to try get him out of bed. He didn’t want to. He sat on my legs as I knelt down to the floor, but once I stood up with him and held his hand, he had an ear to ear smile and walked to the door. He played in the hospital playroom for about an hour before he tuckered out. My heart was full and I know his was too. He fell asleep early tonight. Overall, it was a great day.
Here comes the curveball. Sigh. It’s 9:30pm and the nurse is about to start his TPN. I take an overdue shower while there is someone in the room with him. I step out of the bathroom and a few moments later I hear, “It won’t flush.” Crud. A PICC line that won’t flush is not a great thing to hear. Now we hope we can clear the line that is likely blocked by a formed blood clot. The good thing is that it’s highly unlikely we won’t be able to clear the line.
So, prayers the PICC line will clear and flush easily.
I believe it will and I’m also very hopeful Sam will sleep good tonight and we will get to go home tomorrow.
Sam Strong
Faith Over Fear
