Monday, December 31, 2012
(Happy) New Years!
Trevor and I have had more and more frustration over the little things here, and have looked into transferring hospitals. Unfortunately, there is a requirement that we stay here (or at a bone-marrow transplant center) for 100 days post-transplant. We would have to foot the bill for the move, and Oakley's not stable enough to move right now anyway, so we are just going to stick it out. We did get approval for medical transport on day 100, if Oakley is still in need of hospitalization-to go back to St. Luke's. We have already gotten our receiving doctor in touch with the insurance company to have the green light when February 7th comes.
We have received so much love and support from back home, that we get more and more homesick by the day. It doesn't help that we are so emotionally drained from dealing with the lack of continuity of care plans, but we miss home so much.
We have been so blessed by the people of the Treasure Valley this year. People we know and love, and strangers have reached out to us and given us diapers, gift cards, and words of encouragement. We couldn't ask for a better home to long for, and we can't wait to come back.
The Wallace Family is ringing in the New Year in a quiet hospital room in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit at Seattle Children's Hospital, and we hope to never do this again. From now on, we want, nay, demand, Martinelli's sparkling cider in hand, and kazoos. It's just turned midnight in Idaho, and we want you all to know we wish nothing but health, happiness, and goodwill for your 2013, and we hope we get the same!
Love and Blessings,
Trevor, Samanatha, and Oakley
Auld Lang Syne my friend.
Remember how you wanted to be a doctor when you grew up, then you decided that going to school wasn't fun enough for the end result? Well, you'll be in hospitals more this year than if you had a doctorate. Yeah. You'll sleep in them, eat in them, shower in them, and forget you actually have a home other than the hospital's walls. You won't get paid though. You will be working for something much more important than a paycheck. You will be diligently questing for the health, well-being, and life of your son. You will have to be articulate in your questions and in explaining your hang-ups with things you disagree with. You will need to advocate for yourself when no one else will, and you will need to learn when to listen to others when you are wrong. That's a hard one for us, Sam, but it's an important one.
You will feel like people don't listen to you, and sometimes they aren't listening, but don't give up. You will gain an instinct that you didn't have before, you will need to use your determination in cahoots with this new-found knowledge of what is best for you and yours. Oakley will inherit his bull-headed determination from you. I'm sure this will be trouble down the road, but it's integral for 2012 that he have the piss and vinegar that runs through your veins, and your mother's before yours. I wish I could give you more of a heads up, but I can't. You'll be able to navigate it though. You are Meriwether Lewis, and Trevor can be William Clark.
I would wish you a Happy New Year, but I won't. Instead, I'll wish you godspeed to 2013 and strength, because you just need to hold your breath to get through this.
Love, Samantha of the end of 2012
Monday, December 24, 2012
Merry Christmas Eve
Well, there haven't been any HUGE changes here. Oakley has continued to pee, so he hasn't needed any more dialysis. They removed his peritoneal dialysis catheter this morning. They've started to lower the pressure support on his ventilator as well.
He's still going to be intubated for. Few weeks more, but he's on the upward slope of healing.
His arterial stick line went bad, so they're poking him again. We made them switch back to his heels after coming in to his thumbs and fingers covered in blood...they poked his fingers from the knuckle up, I guess they don't know how to ask endocrinology where it's ok to poke?
His weight has been pretty steady, he was 8.4 kg's this morning after his procedure, and was the same yesterday.
We have been so fortunate this holiday, we've been adoopted by a group of people in Boise and by the NICU folks at Saint Luke's. We have been so overwhelmed with the love and support we continue to experience from home!
My parents and their international students have been in town the last few days, and Trevor and I have had good breaks from the hospital. We went to a huge outlet mall, tried to get into Canada (visa problems stopped us from going all the way in), and we're going to cook up a big Christmas Eve dinner tonight! It's been hard to balance spending tiime with Oakley in the PICU (we're limited to 3 people in his room at a time, including Trevor and I) and spending time with my family while they're here. We're going to spend all day with Oakley tomorrow, we hope to get a picture of him with Santa Claus!
We'll post pictures of Oakley with all his gifts soon, for now he's just trying to sleep, heal, and grow. We love you all and we covet your prayers.
Love,
Samanatha, Trevor, and Oakley
PS, we wish we were home with you all, and can't wait to make up for it double next Christmas!
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
8 Months Old
He didn't have dialysis today; he has done okay with just urinating, but they may have to try giving him a dose of LASIKS (a diuretic) to kind of prompt him to make his goal of being negative by 300 mL's for the day.
They were able to go down on his ventilator settings a little bit today, because the fluid loss has helped make room for his lungs to expand more fully. He did get a culture back that was positive for a bacteria (gram positive cocci) from his peritoneal fluid; but the antibiotics he's already on should fight that off just fine.
All in all, a pretty low-key day, which was so needed! My (Sam) parents are coming in tomorrow night, and it will be so nice to have some respite from our seclusion. They are coming up with the kids for the whole week!
Thanks for all your love and support, keep up the good thoughts and prayers, it seems to be working!
Love,
the kid's feet are still huge |
The Wallaces
Quick update from my phone
So, Tuesday morning (4:12 am) they ended up starting dialysis on Oakley's new catheter (peritoneal dialysis) that was put in Monday night. They like to give those catheters 2 weeks to heal, but at the bare minimum 24-48 hours of healing time before they use them. The risk for infection was very very high, because the catheter could leak, and bacteria thrive on the dialysis fluid-as it's very sugary. His blood gas showed that Oakley's pH was far too acidic, and didn't think he'd make it 24 hours if they didn't start diuresing though. He had drained over 200 milliliters with the catheter just draining excess peritoneal fluid, but wasn't peeing, so it wasn't enough. Yesterday after morning rounds, Oakley's dialysis had only been draining off about 20-25 milliliters of fluid (outside of what they put it) per hour, and they were concerned that wasn't going to be enough. His pH was still acidic (normal is 7.35-7.45 and his was 7.12) so they wanted to put in a tunnelled catheter up through his right groin-femoral artery.
For those of you who don't know Oakley's vascular background, he has a blood clotting disorder called factor 5 leiden mutation and because of the lines he's had in his body, most of his big access veins and arteries are clotted and unusable. He has a left subclavian clot (so his left shoulder), left iliac vein (the returning blood that compliments his femoral artery) clot, and his right side is currently housing his double lumen Hickman line, whicj goes through his right jugular. This would use his last good spot for lines, and if it clotted off, we'd be screwed. Clotting is a very real danger right now, because his Lovenox (anti-coagulant) had been stopped since Wednesday because of a series of bloody noses, then the ressuscitation and finally, his surgery for putting in his peritoneal catheter.
Trevor and I were pretty hesitant about using his last good artery, and thought they were jumping the gun a little. It hadn't even been 12 hours on his peridialysis and they were unsatisfied and wanting to stick another line in. We were frustrated with a couple other things too (PICU had effectively cut the pulmonology team out of Oakley's consults because they deal primarily with long term issues and not acute injury, the head PICU doc was a jerk and pretty much told me to leave rounds), and ended up setting up a care conference to further discuss the issue.
Between rounds and the care conference, the wound care nurse dropped in and consulted on how to take care of Oakley's junk-see picture from last post- and was looking at his catheter, and urine started dribbling out! He peed 26 grams worth of urine, so they thought his catheter had gone bad. They pulled it, and got another 32, so tey replaced the catheter. He had released 106 grams of pee by the time we had left for the care conference. The doctors seemed less impressed than Trevor and I had been-even though this gave them 5 hours worth of his dialysis output as a freebie. It also meant his kidneys were working a little bit. We left the conference with the compromise to look at Oakley's clotted limbs for line access options and to look into his newfound ability to pee, even just a little. When we got back, a blood gas had been drawn with a pH of 7.21, so he had improved drastically! His CO2 was looking good and his breathing was stable on a lowered pressure.
After fighting for an hour, the fight was nullified for the time being, because he was stable enough to continue his peridialysis.
He was estimated to get about 500 mL's of fluid off in 24 hours of peridialysis, and his urine output was brely significant. At around 5, Oakley's abdomen was starting to turn a little red, and his PD catheter dressing was wet. The changed his dressing, and were watching him. At 8, the nephrologist stopped by, and looked him over. He had the nurse check the leaking fluid for it's dextrose content. It was over 1,000 and Oakley's blood sugar was at 140. The fluid was definately dialysis fluid leaking out. They had a decision to make now; continue diuresing with the leak, inviting infection, they could stop the dialysis and give the catheter time to heal, or they could stop the peridialysis and put in the line and start hemodialysis. They crunched the numbers, and Oakley had given them 585 milliliters of fluid output (thanks urine) in less than 20 hours. They decided to stop the dialysis and let the PD catheter heal for as long as his body can handle. So far, through the night, Oakley's PD catheter has drained over 300 mL's of fluid and his urine out put has been over 400! We haven't rounded or seen a doc yet, but I'm pretty excited! His weight dropped from 9.7 to 8.7-a whole kg! We never thought we'd be excited about weight loss for Oakley, but his starting weight was 7.3, so we're getting back to normalcy much quicker than even the doctors thought could happen!
It's a very real likelihood that he'll have an infection in his peritoneal cavity, his Neutrophils have been acting erratic (they were 5,000 on Saturday, 10,000 Sunday, 21,000 yesterday, and are 4,000 today) and his platelets and hematocrit have dropped, so internal bleeding is likely. We've got such a long road ahead of us, but your prayers are working!
Monday, December 17, 2012
Bah Humbug
Remember how Oakley was on high-flow oxygen and it didn't work? It made his nuts disappear in a swollen, looking like a water balloon about to burst scrotum. He was working against the oxygen so hard that it sent a bunch of fluid down through the channel where his testicles descended when he was in utero that hadn't fully healed up yet. So, pulmonology looked at him and said that high-flow wasn't a real option for him anymore, and that CPAP would probably be the same story. They started his LASIKS (which is a diuretic-to make him pee and get rid of any extra fluid hanging out that his body didn't need). Being on diuretics can cause your electrolytes to get funky, can cause issues with your kidneys, and the kidneys are responsible for a lot. His kidneys have been giving him high blood pressure for months now, and he was on 3 or 4 different blood pressure reducing medications. He started to have need for them more and more often, and then his blood gas started to look bad. His CO2 in his blood was higher than they like, and this can be caused by a couple of things. It can be due to difficulty ridding your lungs of the CO2 when you breathe, and it can also be a response to your kidneys not shedding enough bicarb when you pee. Oakley's was assumed to be due to his work of breathing, so his doctors started scrambling, trying to figure out what to do.
His doctors had changed services, so the ones on right now were not present for the jewel bag blow up. They kept pushing for Oakley to go on to high flow, and we kept saying no. He worked against the pressure, and it ended up being worse for him than being on the non-pressurized nasal cannula. They kept pushing for us to go up to PICU, because they wanted to "maybe" intubate him, because that would help his blood gas. I'm all for helping his numbers, but he was physically looking fine. His work of breathing came and went, but he was happy, smiling, and didn't act like he was having much trouble with his breathing.
His oxygenation was looking good as far as his SPO2 monitoring (the oxygenation content of the blood getting to his extremeties), so the regular day to day BMT doctors said they were fine just waiting this all out, but every night when the hospitalists came on duty, they freaked out and wanted to send Oakley upstairs.
Let me clarify why we don't like PICU; only one parent can stay the night at a time. It's not cohesive to family living. It's not comfortable, and there's no semblance of privacy. We cannot eat in Oakley's room in PICU, and we never got to pick Oakley up and cuddle him while he was in PICU before. It sucks. Also, we just got our big, comfortable room back, and we put up our Christmas tree (which wouldn't be allowed in PICU). So we're partial to staying on the SCCA floor, because we get to kind of run the show in Oakley's room.
After 3 nights in a row of complete exhaustion from waking up and telling the hospitalists that Oakley was not going to the PICU because of their discomfort with his breathing (by the way, he was still saturated with oxygen, wasn't having big de-sats or anything), Trevor and I finally agreed to let them do a trial of highflow on the SCCA floor (normally they cannot do high flow on the SCCA floor, but if it's not an emergency or acute event, the rules can be bent) on Thursday. We bargained that they could try him on the high flow at 2 liters of oxygen per minute (he was at 1 on regular cannula and at 98-100% on his SPO2) and that if it didn't work, we could go back to nasal cannula or blow by (which is just a tube that we put by Oakley's face that blows humidified oxygen for him to breathe). Nothing happens quickly here, and even though this deal was hammered out at about 11 am, the high flow didn't get set up until about 5 pm. Pulmonology was notified, and though they disagreed with putting Oakley on high-flow, they were ok with a trial run. He started out at 40% oxygen running at 2 liters per minute. He dropped from 99-100% on his SPO2 down to the high 80's. They let us put the blow by next to him to give him some time to synchronize with the high-flow and try to give it time to work. We gave it a couple of hours, and then pulled the blow by. He was still in the high 80's, so RT (respiratory therapy) bumped his oxygen content up to 46% (not allowed to go that high on the SCCA floor, but oh well.) and told the hospitalist. The hospitalist was worried, came in, saw that he was working MUCH harder to breath with the high-flow, and bumped him up to 3 liters. Trevor and I were upset, told her that wasn't what we discussed with BMT, and we basically got told it was try this or go up to PICU. We shut up, because we really just wanted them to see that we weren't lying about high-flow not working for Oakley, so we figured we better let them see that high flow at any level wasn't going to work.
At 3 liters and 46% oxygen, Oakley was saturating in the low 90's, which is acceptable, but not preferred. He would cough and drop down into the 80's every now and then, and his blood gas had come back unchanged from the day before on nasal cannula and blow by, so they decided to put him up to 4 liters. By 3 am, Trevor and I were done. Oakley was working so much harder to breathe, and his stomach muscles were working all the way down past his naval. He was bowing from side to side with his breathing, and his nostrils were flaring. He was grunting. He was doing everything he could to show us that he was exhausted from just trying to breath. Trevor and I told the hospitalist that we wanted them to stop the high-flow and put him back on the nasal cannula. She told us she wasn't able to do that, but that she could send us up to the PICU. We told her no, we didn't want to go to the PICU, we wanted the high-flow off. She told us she wasn't comfortable doing that, and making that decision, so it would have to wait until the morning, when the BMT team got in. This has been so frustrating for Trevor and I; because the hospitalists are so incapable of doing anything except for writing orders to change the insulin, that we don't see the point in having them. They drive us nuts, because they don't read the chart, and they don't do what they're supposed to. We found out after the fact, that pulmonology (who had a freaking fellow on call) was not receiving the updates they were supposed to receive about them changing his high flow concentration or the increases in the pressures. UGH.
Anyway, we thought Oakley would be able to tough it out for a few more hours. We had just gone to bed, were barely starting to fall asleep, when RT came in to do therapy for Oakley. They give him Albuterol and then use a massager or their hand to pat him and break up anything in his lungs. Trevor was still awake as she started the Albuterol. Oakley started coughing (which causes him to desat) and the RT grabbed the bag to manually oxygenate him. He started puking, and instead of suctioning the vomit out, she continued bagging him, making him inhale his vomit into his lungs. She pushed the code blue button. The nurse came in and started doing chest compressions; at 5:38 he had no pulse of his own and wasn't breathing.
They did CPR, a million people rushed in, they couldn't get him intubated. They got an LMA in (which is a disc that holds the airway open so they can continue to get him oxygen, it's just not as invasive. He still wasn't breathing, so they continued bagging him and pushing epinephrine. He got compressions for a little over a half an hour, and he was finally intubated around 6:15. Oakley had technically died, and was resuscitated.
so swollen |
Brain damage was immediately on the radar for Oakley; it can take up to 3 days for brain swelling to have it's full effect. He was responsive Friday morning, flailing his arms and legs with purpose (trying to rip out his tube), and tracking people with his eyes. They wanted him to be less sedated than usual for an intubation, so they could continue to monitor his mental status. His CO2 was over 100 on his blood gas. Friday night, he was starting to swell. His arms and legs were still responsive, but his eyes were barely able to open. His blood gas had dropped significantly, down to the low 50's on his CO2. Saturday morning; 24 hours post event, and he's still neurologically looking fine. His kidneys, however, aren't looking too hot. He's got sediment in his urine, and he's getting to be more and more fluid positive because he's not urinating enough. We can't give him his diuretics, because they're so bad for his kidneys, and they really want his blood pressure to be high enough to give his brain ample blood and avoid brain damage. His blood pressure had dropped tremendously with the cardiac arrest, and was just starting to be at the level that's normal for a baby (not normal for Oakley-still low for him). His blood gas started to rise a little (63 on his CO2) and they don't know why. We still have a roommate, which is weird since he's immuno-suppressed and supposed to be kept far from other children. Our roommate has 3 sisters that don't have leashes, and they're between the ages of 1 1/2 to 4. We asked for a separate room, but they're so full that they're turning other kids from other hospitals away. Also, it's RSV season, and if a single room opens up, they'll put a respiratory case in it. (whatever, they want us to stay away from kids, but they stick us in a room with another kid with siblings-walking disease factories...makes total sense.)
Sunday morning: swelling is awful. He even has pockets of fluid between his scalp and his skull. He is so fluid positive that not only are his hydroceles back in full force, but his penis is starting to follow suite. He had some desaturations, and his blood gas is still higher than it should be (63). Noone knows why, or what to do.
They did a wash in his lungs today, they pushed in 10 cc's of sterile saline, and pulled 6 cc's of junk out of his lung. It was a little bloody, but mostly looked like clear-ish fluid and then a hunk of what looked like snot. No word back on any of his other tests.
So, the good news: Oakley's alive. He wasn't for about half an hour Friday morning, but he's alive right now. He's not out of the woods for brain damage yet, they'll do an MRI toward the end of this week to look and see how everything is working. He looks like a stuffed sausage about to burst it's casing. He can't open his eyes, his neck is even swollen so he has limited movement. His kidneys aren't looking so good. He has gained a full kilogram since Friday at midnight in fluid weight. His blood pressure had a pretty significant dip today, but is now back up in the therapeutic range. We don't know what to do right now. We don't want to get our hopes up and have them dashed. We thought we'd be outpatient by now, and now we don't even know if he'll be coherent on Christmas morning.
Not the Christmas package we were hoping for...bu dun psh! The white tube exiting his penis is a catheter. |
Sorry for having such a sobering blog post. I wish I could include pictures of Oakley on Santa's lap, but I don't think it's going to be happening this year.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Ode to Saint Luke's NICU
Stanette, Deb, Michal-you were always a ball,
I'll miss you, Saint Luke's NICU, I will miss you all!
It's pure magic, even though I'm a muggle!
Van Looey, Meyers, and Chrichton,
I needed your help to get fightin'
Thank you for your help one and all!
I really can't wait to see ya.
I'll get huge and fat,
I know I didn't cover everyone I'll miss
But I hope that you get the jist...
I miss you all so much,
I hope to touch
Everyday, I realize how awesome we had it in Boise. We miss your continuity of care, the fact that you do care, and how truly wonderful each person that makes the whole of Saint Luke's what it is. We are counting down the days until we get to come back home, until we can see you all again, and until we are again, part of Saint Luke's (with our follow ups-hopefully no more inpatient for a while!)
Thank you for choosing to adopt our family this Christmas, we are amazed at the love we continue to receive from you.
Love,
Trevor, Sam, and Oakley
Christmas Bells are ringing
he's getting so big! |
biting his lip |
Before the final ND attempt; getting a break from tubes |
Trevor and I have our diabetes training this week-which should be a breeze; our nutrition/carb counting class was today, and was supposed to take an hour, but it only lasted 5 minutes because we're so smart. For those of you who don't know; Trevor is type 1 diabetic and has been since he was 9. His younger brother is also diabetic, so is his paternal aunt, and his father was too. We actually are part of a diabetes camp family called Camp Hodia; and they do events all year long; so Oakley will be fortunate to be surrounded by adults who live with the disease and live life without letting diabetes restrict them. Our goal for discharge (and the BMT doctor's) is December 15th. I can't wait! Oakley's ND placement was awful, but is finally over. An ND tube is a feeding tube that goes from the nose to the duodenum (So goes through the stomach, into the top of the small intestine. It's held in the duodenum by the pyloric sphincter, and so there is less chance of the stuff (meds and food) going back up into the stomach and vomited. They wanted it this way so that he wouldn't have any risk of aspirating (inhaling the vomit into his lungs). It took 4 attempts. The first two, they just took the weighted tube with the guide wire and shoved it down 46 or more centimeters. Those didn't go into the duodenum, but just coiled in his stomach. We had an x-ray about 12 hours after each attempt.
doesn't he look so smart?! |
The ND |
It's hard work growing an immune system! |