Countdown to Christmas

Trish, Rudy, Max and Livy made a trip down to UCLA yesterday.  No appointments, no clinics, no emergencies…just a chance to share some love with families who will be spending their Christmas in the CTICU this year.  The memory of our time there two years ago is sacred, profound, and yes, even joyful.  [Remember this, this, and this].  HIPA rules prevent just anyone from waltzing into the ICU to spread holiday cheer, but that’s one door that flies open for Rudy and it was special to see so many of the people who fought so hard for him during his seven months there.  Dr. Robert and Nurse Filma took the little Christmas deliveries and made sure they got delivered to the families of the little fighters on the unit.

Spreading Christmas Cheer in the CTICU

The reality of having a critically ill child is that life can be upended at any moment and can feature unplanned returns to the hospital that aren’t sensitive to holidays.  Given the way Rudy’s journey started, we’re very fortunate that this hasn’t been part of our experience.  Being home at Christmas means we get to experience special days like we did today at the Rescue Mission’s Christmas Feast–another moving effort to embrace people who might be having a difficult Christmas of their own.  Here’s Rudy enjoying the sunshine and supervising/greeting people as they came through the gift line:

 

Merry Christmas!!

We’re so grateful that it looks like many of our little buddies will be spending Christmas at home, but for those families that are gearing up for a hospital Christmas, I’m re-posting this little Rudy’s Beat tradition.  May God Bless you all, keep you safe, and bring you home soon!

 

With Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore

‘Twas the night before Christmas, in the CTICU on 5 East,
A few creatures were stirring, because they never cease;
The fluids were hung by the bedsides with care,
In hopes that all would remain peaceful there;
The children, not “nestled” but comfortable yet,
Saw lots more than sugar-plums thanks to the meds;
Dr. Ryan in his coat, Dr. Andy in clogs,
Kept quiet watch as they checked patient logs;
Far up on the roof there arose quite a clatter,
But they wouldn’t have heard what was the matter.
Nurse Susan at her station would not have noticed,
Her attention on Rudy was lovingly focused.

The flat helipad with its lights flashing on top,
Made landing much easier than most other stops,
The touchdown was simple, but the rest was quite hard,
For patients and visitors with no proxy card,
But this one was different and he knew some tricks,
The card readers and elevators were no match for St. Nick.
He stuffed his sack fuller than he ever had yet,
For scores below worried that he might forget;

To the 5th Floor through the stairwell he came with a bound,
Right through the alarmed door with nary a sound.
Yes, dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
But he cleaned himself up because they don’t allow soot.
Into the PICU he walked without ringing,
Quietly as the pumps and the vents did their singing.
His eyes kept on twinkling; his dimples still merry,
But tender concern showed behind that nose like a cherry.
While the nurses’ attention was never averted,
Somehow he slipped into each room unobserved,

He’d given up the pipe as he’s now much the wiser,
And at each door he carefully lathered with the sanitizer.
The belly like jelly still shook only slightly,
As he kept his voice quiet and laughed only lightly;
That wink of his eye and the twist of his head,
Assured the small patients they had nothing to dread;
He spoke soothing words along with his work,
Being careful to turn with nary a jerk,
After carefully laying what he’d brought on the bed,
He’d give a small whisper and a pat on the head;
Without any rush he went door to door,
Making sure he missed no one on the entire floor;

He returned to his sleigh and offered a prayer,
That these little ones wouldn’t be much longer in there,
As he prepared to alight from this special stop,
The children were assured he hadn’t forgot.
So he loudly exclaimed as he drove up into the air,
“Be home next Christmas, and I’ll see you there.”

RSA: A Minor Medical Mystery

Leave it to Rudy, but we’ve got another peculiar issue to add to the list.  There hasn’t been much written about RSA, but our diagnosis is certain and confirmed.  At first we mistook the symptoms of RSA as a coincidence…

But we watched him closely and picked up an undeniable trend…

It doesn’t just happen when he’s lying down.  RSA can flare up when he’s seated…

He’s been known to have an RSA outbreak in public places…like Wendy’s.

That’s right, we’re talking about RSA…Right Sock Aversion.  We’ve watched Rudy closely and have repeatedly seen this pattern.  Never the left sock (which would be LSA) or both socks (BSA–Bi-lateral Sock aversion).  Why always just the right?  Perhaps some of the medical geniuses who follow Rudy might have a theory on this, but for now we’ll just start a low-profile RSA Awareness campaign.

RSA attacks seem to start like this…

Nonchalantly get a grip...

Then the behavior escalates…

Keep working on it...

And pretty soon, you’ll have that right foot all happy and free.  Apparently once you’ve got the right foot out, there’s no need to bother with the left.  You can just kick back…

Probably not as significant as some of the other mysteries we’re trying to solve, but it does get one curious.  Stay tuned for the RSA Research telethon…

RSA...It's a mystery?!!!

UCLA and HLHS in the News

Thanks for all the notes and comments.  At some point we’ll have to get on a longer “how we’re feeling/what we’re thinking” post in light of the recent developments, but in the meantime the holiday season gives us lots of things to enjoy.  We’ve got some posts coming on the fun we’re having.

I appreciated a Rudy’s Beat fan (thanks, Christie!) who forwarded me this NPR link about a long-term HLHS survivor.  If one hero isn’t enough, you’ll probably recognize a second, Dr. Brian, who gets interviewed below.  The impasse we’re at with Rudy’s condition can give rise to all kinds of questions in our heads.  I’m glad one of them is not whether we’ve got the best team.

Discharged and headed home!

A longer post will come in the next day or so, but just wanted to quickly report that Trish and Rudy were discharged late this morning.  Rudy was cranky up until the end; but that changed the moment he got into his car seat.  Suddenly he was all smiles as he looked out the window and made his escape.  It’s OK with us if he hates the hospital–home is much better!  At the same time, we’re so grateful for the UCLA team, the careful attention they pay to Rudy and the encouraging friends they are to us [not to mention the hard-to-find hospital loot they send us off with in good supply ;-)].

Trish will probably wait out the LA traffic for a bit, but we can’t wait to see them.  It was fun to hear Rudy squawking it up in the background when she called me from the car!  I guess the ability to vocalize more is readily evident!

Bronchoscopy Update

Thanks for praying for Rudy today.  Here’s the nutshell:  Trish and Rudy left SB at 3am for a 4:45 call time at UCLA for his bronchoscopy.  Like good patients, they were there and ready but got pushed back due to an emergency case.  Rudy enjoyed the car ride and was awake for most of it, so he got a little cranky during the wait–but you wouldn’t know it from this picture Trish sent me:

Rudy's good morning to me!

Trish called around 11am and reported that they were done and she was expecting to get called up to see Rudy shortly.  Dr. Shapiro was able to completely remove the granuloma in the trachea (this is inflammatory tissue that commonly grows around trach sites), but it was a bit more work than she expected.  Instead of being soft and mushy, it was hard and fibrous.

We are pleasantly surprised to learn that she decided to downsize the trach from a 4.0 to a 3.5.  Like much of Rudy’s course of treatment, we are prepared for decannulation to proceed slowly and expected this step down to come further down the line.  So it’s fun to take two steps on the same day.  Dr. Shapiro’s assessment is that Rudy should be able to handle it, but they will keep him overnight just to monitor him.

Trish will probably give more detail when she gets settled upstairs in a few hours, but we just wanted to give an update for those who were praying.  Thanks!

GO HOME, Moriah!!!

We haven’t heard anything from our friends, Justin and Victoria, today.  Last night, for the first time in well over a year, saying good night to their little Moriah didn’t mean kissing her on the forehead, checking in with the nurse and heading home with the phone close at hand.  Greeting their little girl this morning meant simply stumbling into the next room.  MORIAH GOT TO GO HOME YESTERDAY!!!

As this week has had it’s share of tears, it feel so good to have happy ones rim my eyes as I type this.  This is an unchosen journey, but we are buoyed by having met some incredible people on the way.  As we’ve felt burdened by their struggles, we truly rejoice with them over such significant milestones.

It might seem appropriate to wish the Nelsons a peaceful weekend, but I’m inclined to pray for the opposite.  I hope they have an exhausting one.  Not the kind of ICU-exhaustion they might be accustomed to; but the kind that comes from having to read the same book seven times in a row…from taking long walks around the block to keep a little one occupied…from never-ending games of peek-a-boo behind the couch…from just plain being giddy over the goodness of God evident in the precious little girl before them.

We love you, Nelson Family!

Cutest ladybug I ever saw!

 

Has it really been 25 years?!

As Trish shared in the last post, we’ve spent this weekend absorbing the news from the cath last week.  I’d have to say we’re feeling our way through things so far as we’re not really at the stage of thinking or planning our way from here–we’ll get there–some realities take awhile to sink in.  In the year and a half since Rudy’s been at home with us, the Glenn has loomed as a monolithic milestone–a scary but necessary rite of passage; the next step in prolonging Rudy’s life…and now it’s not there.  So much of Rudy’s journey has been one of uncharted waters–unique complications and prolonged treatments, but having one of the fundamental interventions taken off the table feels like something of a different magnitude.  We’ll likely get to the point of cogent thinking at some point and will update then, but for now it’s the feelings.

On that front, it’s been a quiet weekend with enough activity to keep us occupied.  The feelings are there–sometimes it’s a heaviness, other times irritability, sadness and confusion.  Thanks for kinds words, space, company and normal routines all in good measure.

Within all of this, there is gratitude–first and foremost just for who Rudy is–how many minor miracles must there have been to sustain him through this?  We’re grateful for our big kids and there handling of this; some of the most poignant moments this weekend came during unexpected exchanges where they grappled with the reality of Rudy’s condition.

On the subject of gratitude, a helpful distraction for me this weekend was my 25th high school reunion.  Unfortunately, it was in New Jersey so I couldn’t make the trip to be with the rest of the class of 1985, but I did send this little video greeting.  Based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it probably left a more favorable impression of me than had I actually been there in person ;-).  Amidst daunting circumstances, the chance to reflect on the journey that brought me here and for the richness of life and experiences fills me with gratitude.  I missed seeing all of you Madison Dodgers!  For the rest of you, hope you enjoy it.

[warning–this may take awhile to buffer]