John planned way ahead for our Valentine's Day date this year. He called a babysitter a full month in advance. He researched and planned where we were going to have dinner. He even arranged entertainment after dinner (if the adult session of Stake Conference counts, which I am saying yes, yes it does).
Then, the Friday morning before said date, Isaac woke up with a burning fever. The same boy who had been out of school for nearly two weeks for stomach issues that we thought were resolved, and had gone back to two days of school, only to sleep through half of one. I had planned on going to the temple that morning, and John insisted that he would be fine taking Yummy and Isaac to the doctor so that I could go.
I called John as soon as I got out of the temple.
"You may want to come down to the hospital," he said. The doctor had done some blood work and Isaac's white blood cell count was alarmingly high. John and Will were waiting in the hospital now for Isaac to have an ultrasound and a CT scan on his abdomen. What they found was a huge pocket of infection, the size of a tennis ball or small grapefruit, resulting from an undetected ruptured appendix. From there, the doctors sent them on to Children's Hospital in downtown Chicago, where they could deal with his situation a little bit better.
I took Will home, John assured me that everything would be fine, and then they were off to Childrens.
Later that evening, after surgery, John called me. This is what I remember of the conversation.
They inserted a tube into Isaac's lower abdomen to drain the infection because they didn't want to open him up for fear of spreading the infection to his other organs.
They left his ruptured appendix and would take it out at a later date when his body was in better condition, because if they operated now, they would have to remove a portion of his intestines.
He had a hole in his intestinal wall leaking fluid.
They placed a PICC line in through his bicep, through his central artery, next to his heart, to pump antibiotics.
So Saturday night, I kept our long planned for babysitter, and John and I had our date in the basement McDonald's of Children's Memorial Hospital. He had a hot fudge sundae, and I had a shamrock shake.
John stayed at the hospital most nights. I found babysitters from the ward to come for a few hours each day so that I could go be with them. When John had class or work, I would orchestrate the babysitting so that Isaac didn't have to be alone. The ward members and my wonderful neighbor Karen were incredible. They cooked, cleaned, babysat and even filled our fridge and pantry.
The doctors told us that if all went according to plan, we should be out of there in about a week. Great news. Then on Tuesday they sent in the infectious disease guys to tell us that we were being moved to an isolation unit because Isaac's infection contained MRSA, a type of infection that did not readily respond to antibiotics. Hummm. It would be longer than a week, but at least we were in our own room!
Wednesday they came to take Isaac for another X-ray to see if the drain had worked and if the abscess was gone. They were hopeful that they could remove the drain and we could go home on Thursday. The doctors all assured Isaac that the X-ray would not hurt, and then we were wheeled downstairs. I had to wait outside while they did the X-ray. He was fine until they injected the dye into his drainage tube, then I could hear him screaming. The bottom line: the hole in his intestinal wall was still there, leaking fluid and creating infection, and the abscess was the same size as it was a week ago. Wednesday was a horrible day.
I drove home that night and prayed hard. Harder than I have prayed for anything. Harder than I have prayed for houses to sell, or houses to buy, or getting into business school, or Ph.D. school, or finding a job, or even for labor to stop when I was only 31 weeks pregnant with Will. I prayed for Heavenly Father to have compassion on His sweet son Isaac, who, I felt, I had failed by not paying closer attention to his body signals. And I prayed that I would feel peace about the situation.
The next day I spent at the hospital so John could come home and see his kiddos who he had not seen for almost a week. The nurse (his favorite nurse Mary), strongly encouraged him to get up and walk around, so we did. Just a little at first, and it hurt, but we kept going a little further and a little further. As we did, the infection began to seep out. Not out the tube, but out the hole around the drainage tube. I was concerned at first, but the surgeon assured me however it came out was just fine, as long as it came out. So we kept walking whenever I could convince him to get up.
On Friday, Isaac told me he was hungry. I hadn't heard that for almost three weeks.
He also laughed. A big belly laugh. And he kept laughing. Because for the first time in weeks, it didn't hurt to laugh.
Grandma Anthony flew to the rescue on Saturday! No more shuttling kids! Hooray!
By Monday, on his birthday, Isaac was sitting up in a chair to play the Wii for hours on end. He was also sitting up as the nurses brought in present after present after present. He sat up in bed to open his packages of gifts and cards from the primary in our ward. By the time he had his X-ray on Monday, the hole in his intestinal wall was closed and the infection nearly gone.
We came home on Tuesday!
Isaac's favorite things about the hospital (in no particular order):
1. Being able to watch TV and/or play video games all day long.
2. Ordering whatever he wanted from room service, including ice cream at every meal.
3. All the extra birthday gifts he received (he claims that this was his best birthday ever).
4. His nurse Mary.
5. Body Parts Bingo and Smart Spot game, televised over the hospital TVs for patients.
6. His urinal. What 11 year old boy wouldn't like to use the bathroom in bed without missing a beat on your Wii game?
7. No school!
8. Balloons and presents from Grandma and Grandpa Hema, primary teachers and leaders.
