a normal, hum-drum kind of miracle

something very strange has been happening around here lately...

Asher is growing up.

he's six-and-a-half now; he'll be starting grade two in september. and in december, he'll turn seven.

seven.

WHAT?!

i know. i can't believe it, either. *shakes head*

this time two years ago, i couldn't bring myself to say, "in a few months, he'll turn five." i suppose this is what "stable" feels like...

what normal lives like...

he was sitting next to me the other day, as he often does. he was playing on the computer, as he often does. and something about him in that moment...

he was playing with Bram the other day, as he often does. they were planning out lego star wars attacks on lego batman goons, as they often do. and something about him in that moment...

he was helping with grocery shopping the other day, as he often does. he ran ahead to grab the milk, as he often does. and something about him in that moment...

i caught a glimpse of him, as he will be

when he's older

when he's grown

when he's a young man.

and in those moments, those massive, insignificant moments, my breath caught in my throat, and i couldn't move, and i couldn't speak, and i couldn't take my eyes off him. there was such magic in those moments.

in the ordinary, everyday, inconsequential miracle of those moments.

in the day-to-day, ho-hum of life.

and in the living room, and in the play room, and in the grocery store, i knew

i knew

that Asher just might make it.

he could grow up, and live an ordinary life, and have a job, and drive a car, and break hearts date girls, and follow his passions, and make dinner, and tell stories, and hang out with friends, and drink coffee, and fall in love,

and change the world

and change a life

and live his life

however long that may be.

and it will be long enough,

however long it may be.

because, as he sat there, playing on the computer, he had no thought of his heart, no thought of his scars, no thought of his doctors and surgeon and appointments and hospital admissions and feeding tubes and meds and pacemaker.

he just wanted to beat that level of Candy Crush Saga (don't we all?). he just wanted Batman to destroy Darth Vader (for obvious reasons). he just wanted to help with shopping (because he's like that).

and this is what his life is now, and this is what his life will be like (for) now, and this is what normal life is like

all the time

for everyone.

each of us lives this kind of ho-hum, ordinary, day-to-day miracle.

the best kind of miracle.

the normal kind of miracle. when you go to sleep at night, and you wake up in the morning, and go about your day, and go to sleep at night, and wake up in the morning, and go about your day, and so on, and so forth.

that's Asher's life (for) now. and it's kind of amazing.

because it really, really isn't.

*****

i'm sure some of you are wondering what we've been up to since i last posted here. i'll post more about that on My Simple Life later, but for now, here's the Coles Notes version:

• we're homeschooling. (and Asher has been remarkably healthy since i took him out of school, so i really believe this is best for him.)
• like i said, he'll be starting grade two in september, Bram will be doing grade four, and Blithe will be in grade six, and i'll be having a mid-life crisis, because i'm not ready for any of them to be this old.
• i've started doing make-up, mostly for theatre, but also some bridal, and photography, and video. i'll be doing a couple book covers in the next couple weeks, followed hard upon by a show called DREAM, which is a re-imagining of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.
• Blithe has joined the music and drama teams in the kids' section of our church, and she's doing very well with that, especially the drama. that girl can act!
• Bram is obsessed with all things Lego.
• Asher has mastered an english accent, and uses it sometimes when he's telling stories that have more than one character.
• and the house is still a mess, and i still love cooking but not baking, and we still have two cats.

and there you have it. you're now basically caught up on our lives now. haha! i'm going to post more often here again now. i'll warn you, though: don't expect too many pictures. i wanted to share one with you today, but Asher didn't want me to, and since it's his blog, i will respect his wishes there. but seriously, he's so grown up, you probably wouldn't even recognize him! and holy cuteness!! i mean, i know i'm biased, but seriously! adorable!!!

anyway, that's it for now... talk soon! promise.

to my sweet littlest big boy,

i love you, little dude.

it's 2:30am, and you're fast asleep beside me. technically it's december 2, but you don't know that yet. to you, it's still the first. which, i suppose, makes you both four and five years old right now... five in reality, four in your reality... i wonder which one is righter.

here it is. your fifth birthday. you weren't supposed to be here. you weren't really expected to make it this far.

but you've made it this far.

i couldn't be more proud.

i couldn't be more grateful.

this truly is something remarkable. for a lot of reasons.

sometimes i wonder how we've gotten this far. i guess i could, or should say it's God, and that would be right, so i don't want to leave Him out here. i want you to know that we couldn't have done any of this without His help and guidance and strength and grace... but i don't know... somehow, chalking it all up to God just kind of makes it all seem so trivial and simple. (or at least, that's how it feels at 2:30am.)

frankly, we've gotten this far with a lot of blood, sweat and tears. literally, blood, sweat and tears. it's true, i wouldn't trade any of this for the world, because it has made all of us who we are today. but, on the other hand...

ugh.

to say this milestone is a gift... i don't know. i almost feel like it whitewashes everything we've been through... sanitizes and sterilizes it all... when in reality, you've worked damn hard to get this far. and so have i. and so have countless docs and surgeons and nurses and other workers who are too numerous to mention. and to call it a gift... i'll be honest, dude, it's not really a gift i'd put on a wish list, if you know what i mean. no offence, because i know it's your life and i know it's the only life you've ever known, and i think that on a different journey you probably wouldn't be this beautiful, radiant light dancing along beside me.

but then i think back over the last five years... and i get tears in my eyes. you've come so far. no one could wrap their heads around the fact that you were eight days old before your PDA closed. eight days old. that just doesn't happen. and yet, there you were.

eight days old, and lying in Cardiac Critical Care at Sick Kids... so far from home, in a place that would become a second home so many times over the next five years.

i remember sitting next to you for hours on end. watching you, reading to you, talking with your nurses, listening to your docs, praying to God, staring at the monitors. but mostly, just watching you. it was really all i could do. i just sat there. right there, with you. holding your hand, crying over you, smiling at you when you opened your eyes, cheering you on in your little victories... the first time they took out your breathing tube, each line they could remove, each time your sats and/or heart rate and/or blood pressure stabilized... i feared for you with every challenge, too, though... each time your pressures increased to dangerous levels, each breath you struggled to take, each time your fever spiked, each time your sats bottomed out, each time you got a new line... i cried for what should have been when they gave you formula through a tube, when i had to put you down because you were destabilizing in my arms, when i wasn't allowed to touch you or speak to you or do anything but watch, because that would stimulate you too much and could have killed you...

oh, my sweet little man...

i'm lying here beside you tonight... this morning... whatever... and you're fast asleep, mouth open, arms up over your head... and i want to tickle your underpits. yes, it's bad, but sometimes i can't help myself. you just have the sweetest giggle i've ever heard. probably because i hear it in contrast to everything else.

probably because, so often lately, i don't hear it in contrast to everything else.

i just hear it. that sweet, musical, light and rambunctious giggle that bounces along with you wherever you go. it's just there. just like it is for any normal, little boy your age.

there's a lot in that giggle. there's victory and strength and determination and courage.

and there's nothing in that giggle. no pain or struggle or fear or sorrow. just light and joy and sheer, total happiness.

i joke with people that you run on batteries. you tell people you're a robot. "isn't that sweet," they say, because they think we're joking. they think you're using your imagination, and i'm exaggerating the way mothers do about their little boys who just go go go. because, really, no little boy runs on batteries. i joke about your slow-motion setting, and that maybe next time, dr c can give you a pacer with a mute button.

but that's just because dear me, child! you're loud!

but you know... i joke that you run on batteries, and you tell people you're a robot. if they only knew...

but then, somehow, the fact that they don't know, the fact that they can look at you and just see a normal boy, a normal, rambunctious, baby-of-the-family, goofball boy...

that's the gift, right there. that's the miracle. that's the milestone.

that you're normal. that you're turning five, and you have no idea how huge that is. that you're turning five, and you're having a birthday party on saturday. that you're turning five, and you're just, "i'm turning five!" and it doesn't knock you on your ass in shock and amazement that you've made it this far.

to you, your fifth birthday is just another reason for people to lavish you with attention and love and kisses, and that you're going to get presents and you got a cheque from Great-Grandma in the mail today...

which would be yesterday by now...

because it's 3:03am right now, and you're fast asleep beside me. technically it's december 2, but you don't know that yet. to you, it's still the first. which, i suppose, makes you both four and five years old right now... five in reality, four in your reality... i wonder which one is righter.

it doesn't matter. you'll be five when you wake up. and you're going to wake up. and that's so miraculous.

because it's so normal.

i love you, dude. from here to one side of the galaxy to the other side and back, and then all over again. or, as you mumbled in your sleep a few minutes ago, "i love you more, to infinity and beyond."

love,
mommy
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo



ps - please, never say "righter." it's not a word. i just made it up because that's how i roll sometimes. i just don't want you to grow up thinking "righter" is a word. because it's not.

WOW!!! has it really been 2 months since i last posted?! CRAZY!!!!!

i can't really explain why it's been so long since the last post. not a whole lot going on, i suppose. just regular, normal life stuff, i guess, and really, who wants to read about the days passing in their swirl and whirl and swing and song... that's what My Simple Life is for (please don't click that link yet, lest you see how long i have neglected that blog, too! HAHA!) ok, on to the post!..

like i said, life has been moving along fairly normally over the last couple months, which has been delightful, to be honest. sure, there's been some blips, but nothing that had me in a tizzy or running to the blogosphere for support, so i think it's ok. ;) so i'll give you a bit of a recap:

the kids started back at school, and they're enjoying it. blithe is in grade 4, learning french now, and loving every minute of it. her goal for this year is to get A+ in every subject, and to get into a special arts school in the area for next year. :) she has been really enjoying being on the music and drama teams at our church. she's really blossoming into a beautiful person, and i'm really proud of her.

bram has started grade 2, and seems to be doing fairly well. his reading is really improving, and he's really working hard on focusing and paying attention. his goal for this school year is to "get the exact same grades as last year." his sense of humour, his gentle spirit and love of life are really endearing and inspiring. and in case you're extremely curious, yes, he still has a mohawk. he lets me shave the sides, but not the mohawk itself, which he also won't let me spike. his hair is now almost as long as blithe's at the front! just another one of his little quirks which make him so lovable.

as for asher... well... he's back at school, in senior kindergarten this year. he has the same EA (educational assistant) as last year, which is wonderful. we've all really enjoyed working with her, and asher thinks she hung the moon, so we're all really pleased about that. asher has a different teacher this year, which admittedly caused me a bit of uneasiness initially, but after speaking with the principal and after seeing how asher is doing in school, my concerns are all gone and i'm really happy with how things have gone thus far.

with one exception, which actually has nothing to do with the school itself. asher has already missed about half of the school year due to chicken pox. not that he had them, but in an effort to keep him as healthy as possible, we want to minimize his exposure to these viruses and illnesses. so, home it was for the littlest man. and while i really enjoyed getting to spend so much time with only him, it is so sweet to send him to school, to let him enjoy time with other kids his age, to study butterfly life cycles and learn to read and paint and play at the water table and so on. i am so thrilled that he has this opportunity.

he, however, isn't always so thrilled. i know that, once he gets to school, he enjoys himself and has a great time, but he's really beginning to notice that he's different than other kids. he knows they don't have pacemakers. he knows they don't have EAs. he knows they go to gym. he knows they don't ride on a special bus. he knows. what he doesn't understand is that all of this is to protect him and keep him healthy and safe and give him the best possible school experience, and that we all work as hard as we can to give him as normal a life as possible. he doesn't understand the risks. or he does, and he doesn't like them, so he wants to pretend they don't exist. either way, it's hard to explain to him so that he accepts the situation for what it is. and what it is, is a lot of people who care deeply for him doing everything they can to give him a full, beautiful, Love-filled life. one day, he'll understand, and this, too, shall pass, and we'll get through. we're all aware of his PTSD and other emotional issues.  but when he's crying in the mornings because he doesn't want to go to school, that's really tough on me, especially. but this morning's tears only lasted about 15 seconds, so i'm hopeful it's getting better. when he's been in school for a while, he does better, but since he's missed so much this year, it's rough. he'll adjust and get back into the swing of things, too, and that will help.

as for us as a family, we are now official members at the Y, and we have been enjoying this thoroughly. the four of us go swimming at least twice a week (we try for three, but it doesn't always work out), and we're loving that! we're all in better shape, we're happier, and the kids are all becoming increasingly comfortable in the water. monday afternoon, we went swimming together. blithe and bram put on life jackets and swam all over the pool. asher, who grabbed himself a floaty-belt (don't remember the real name for them LOL), clung to me most of the time. in fact, he's attached to me every second that he's in the pool. but on monday, he relaxed a little, and actually held onto my outstretched arm, put his feet out behind him, kicked, and "swam" while i walked around the shallow end. he's making so much progress in the water! i'm so proud of him!!

blithe is taking Creative Dance, bram is taking Tae Kwon Do, and they're both enrolled in swimming lessons. i had thought of putting asher in swimming lessons, too, until... we went swimming together... and he had an absense seizure on the stairs. while i'm holding him in the water, there isn't a whole lot of risk. but if no one is holding him, and he's in the water, and that happens... yeah. he's not in swimming lessons. :( but i figure, if we go often enough together, he'll learn on his own. he may never be the most fantastic swimmer, but he'll do well enough. his endurance is getting better now as a result of this activity, so who knows. the seizures don't happen very often, so maybe in a few months, once i'm a little more comfortable, i'll sign him up again. because, to be honest, it was his first seizure in several weeks, and it had been a while before that, so i'm probably being overly-careful right now. but this is a new situation for us, so i'm holding it as "caution" and not "paranoia." haha we'll just wait and see how this goes for now, and just have fun all together, like we're doing. :)

um, what else has been going on around here?... well... i had been working quite a bit over the last few weeks while my boss was away on vacation, so that was good. exhausting, but good. i also took some giant steps to pursue one of my dreams. i was the "make-up designer" (that's what it says in the program above my bio!! yes, carrie, i have an extra copy, if you're interested) for Tuesdays With Morrie, which was put on in London last week. it was a beautiful production, and every show got a standing ovation. it was an incredible experience, i can't really say enough about it, and i'm thrilled, honoured and humbled that i was given the opportunity to be a part of it.

ok, now that you're all caught up on the normal real-life stuff...

asher had two clinics yesterday: nephrology and gastroenterology. nephro was awesome! as for gastro... well... nephro was awesome!!! ok, it's not that gastro was terrible. just a bit discouraging. so i'll cover it first, and then we'll part on a renal high note, shall we? (wink)

so, we saw gastro because asher is still suffering from chronic GERD (aka reflux, aka heartburn). it is bad enough that he actually says it hurts and prays that God will "help me feel much better." yeah. he's on meds, but they are really only dealing with the heartburn itself and i'd rather address the cause of the GERD, to be honest. so, off we trekked to the clinic.

what began as "simple" GERD (in quotes because, well, it's asher we're talking about, so "simple" is relative) became GERD with chronic constipation. now, since asher has potty trained, i'll admit, i don't keep track of his BMs. but... when doc asked how often asher poops (hey, it's gastro. what do you expect?! haha!), i stopped and thought about it, and i realized... asher rarely poops. and i mean... maybe once every few weeks. and then i started thinking even more... that would explain why asher doesn't eat much... and probably why he doesn't gain weight very well... and doc reminded me that, if he's full of poop, everything gets backed up and there's nowhere for the stomach to put anything, and that causes more reflux. i reminded him of the vagus nerve damage asher had had, which i believed had healed. but he confirmed that the vagus nerve could still be a factor, since it enervates the esophagus, and if the esophagus isn't getting the signal to send things back down into the stomach, reflux will be a chronic problem.

and the longer i think about this... asher has had issues with his esophagus from the get-go. he had a swallow study done when he was 4 weeks old, just days after being discharged from SickKids the first time. they found a total lack of swallow reflex. sure, stuff went down, and he wasn't gagging very often, but we all watched as the formula (the thickest formula) just kind of spilled down his throat as opposed to being pushed and prodded by the muscles. i mentioned to him that resp had done a CT scan recently and they had found "stuff" in his lungs. this might be due to infections or something, granted, but it's also possible that asher's throat issues have not, in fact, cleared up as well as we'd thought and this is, in fact, evidence of aspiration. sigh...

he prescribed increasing asher's lansoprazole to twice daily, which should help, but again, doesn't address the cause of the GERD. he also recommended a laxative, which might help, as well. if everything is cleared out and keeps moving (the laxative would be an on-going thing), we hope to see a decrease in reflux and an increase in appetite. so, we go back in january for follow-up.

the other issue that came up was one that i have actually wondered about idly over the last couple months: celiac disease. doc seems to think it's a possibility, but he would like to investigate the other queries first before looking into a radical life-style change. which i appreciate. haha but i just might begin working some gluten-free foods into our diet over the next little while, in case this is the issue, and then the change won't be quite so dramatic.

all that being said... as we were walking to the desk to book a follow-up, doc asked, "has asher ever had a study done to see how things work in there?" i told him about the swallow study at four weeks, but there really hasn't been anything further since then. he thought for a moment, then said, "sometimes kids with congenital heart defects can also have a twist or malrotation in their bowel. when he got his G-tube, did they look for that?" i said, "not that i know of. no one said anything to me about it." he is going to be talking to Interventional Radiology (they're the ones who put in the GJ-tube and then changed it to a G) to see if they ever looked, or noticed anything. if they haven't, we're going to look into this right away.

so, what started as "simple" GERD has become something much bigger. and my heart hurts a little bit more today. :( i know it's not the end of the world, but things had been going so smoothly, and then to find out that he might have further issues just leaves me feeling sad. so prayers/vibes/crossed crossables would be very much appreciated.

and now for something completely different.

after gastro and a quick trip up to Tim Horton's (we hadn't eaten all day - stupid ultrasounds! haha), we saw nephro. asher's BP was low by all standards except nephro, because they like low BPs (81/55, anyone?). they say that's "perfect." ok... i'm going with it, since there really isn't much you can do to make his BP go up, so whatever. haha doc looked over the ultrasound from that morning and said, "wow! this is dramatically improved over last time! if you didn't know to look for anything, this would be taken as normal!" i picked myself up off the floor, resisted the urge to hug him, and said, "really?!?!" apparently, there is a small cyst in the left kidney, but it's been there all along, apparently, and hasn't changed size, so doc's not worried about it. in fact, i suspect he would have discharged us completely but for the UTI asher had a few months back, so we go back in a year. that's right, 2012!!!! i don't remember the last time i was so happy leaving an appointment!!

so, to recap, gastro was upsetting but eye-opening and at least we have a plan, and nephro was AWESOME!!!!

and now you're caught up.

have a wonderful day today! i'm so sorry about the length of this post. i'll try to post more frequently to avoid posts like this in the future. :S

you are Loved.

wow, where do i even start?!

it's been quite a month around here...

um...

we met with our CCAC case manager who was, in a word, the best CCAC case manager i've ever met! so nice, so helpful. she actually listened to me, and she offered supports and services that no other case manager i've ever met has offered. simply incredible! total gift!

she set us up with a social worker. actually the social worker was here this afternon. she is so nice. she's going to look into things like respite care for asher, a YMCA membership for the kids and me, some funding, and she offered to come with us next Tuesday for our respirology appointment. how wonderful is that?!

in fact, over the last month, it's just been one blessing after another. it seems like every day God shows up and dumps goodness onto us. sure, asher's still sick. his energy level is decreasing, and he's occasionally short of breath for no reason or with very little exertion. so yes, that sucks. but let me tell you about a couple other things that have come about that i would never believe if it weren't my life!!

• i'm going on vacation. much needed, i might add. i'm going to florida for five days in february with some friends. and we're all leaving our kids at home. i'll admit, i was an emotional mess a week ago, but once i decided to do this, i haven't cried nearly as much, i've been able to cope with life's little challenges... just knowing that while all you suckers poor saps walking popsicles gentle readers who live north of the border or in other winter-prone locations are shovelling snow and shivering and complaining that you're out of marshmallows and how can you have hot chocolate without marshmallows this isn't cool for the love of everything holy and good this isn't cool!!!!!!!!!... i'll be in miami, sitting by the pool with a book and window shopping with the girls. i can't wait!!! i haven't been on vacation since before blithe came along, and before that it had been... wow... years. so yeah. i can't wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! {happy dance}
• yesterday after church, i was chatting with a friend. i was telling her about our upcoming appointments and how nervous/scared i am... anyway, yesterday evening, her husband, one of the pastors at our church, saw that i had posted asking if anyone would care to join me on friday morning while asher's in having his CT. he, then, posted this on his profile:  There is a mom in our church community who needs someone to sit with her at the hospital while her son undergoes tests this Firday- if you are available please contact Heather Heywood I know that she would appreciate it very much. i kid you not, within five minutes, a friend offered to join me and she will be the coffee wench and we shall drink coffee and i shall not worry about asher being put under to undergo a test that could very well lead us to yet another horrible diagnosis. anyway, the whole point of this is... community. it's such a gift. and as i said on FB yesterday, the support that the kids and i have received has been overwhelming and humbling and beautiful and the picture of grace and Love. 

um, i can't really think of anything else going on in our world right now... blithe and i picked out her outfit for the first day of school, and let me tell you, this girl has some kinda style. also, we're trying to figure out where to go on a wish trip... so far, the choices are "wal-mart and mcdonalds," the island of sodor, take a train to toronto and take the subway to a hockey game, or disney world. so far, wal-mart and the hockey game are winning. HAHA

so that's the world according to asher... as told by me... for today, anyway. haha 

you are Loved.

it's the afternoon of our resp appointment...

and here i sit, pretty sure of how i actually feel about it all.

i want to cry.

i know we needed to go. something isn't right and it needs to be investigated and what not...

so here's the deal:

it's not asthma.

it's not nothing.

apparently, i "said the right things" and doc believes asher has some kind of chronic bronchitis. the CT will give us a better idea what we're dealing with. then she added, depending on what the CT shows, we may need a bronchioscope. this would involve a camera in his airway and maybe some samples of whatever they find in there.

and for those who are wondering... plastic bronchitis was mentioned and discussed. for now she's calling it possible chronic bronchitis, and we're taking it all one step at a time, but not taking our time. she's definitely on top of this.

pre-admit clinic (when we'll meet with the anaesthetist and give consent) is at the end of july, and the CT is friday, august 12. then we see doc again in clinic on the 16th (that's a tuesday) to discuss what the scan showed.

she also sent home some specimen jars. even though, up until now, asher has been swallowing anything he coughs up, she wants samples of anything he does get out. she's not holding her breath for this, though, since she said that it's not uncommon for kids his age to swallow whatever comes up. even a cast (the little bits produced by PB) would more likely be vomitted out from excessive coughing, rather than to actually be projected with a couple coughs.

i'm not going to lie, i'm scared. i don't really know what i was hoping for today. nothing good could have come from this appointment. (and yes, "it's not respiratory" would not have been good news. because if it's not resp... then what is it?!?!) but "fortunately" it is respiratory.

and i want to cry.

because even "run of the mill" plain ol' chronic bronchitis isn't good for a heart kid... the interactions between the heart and lungs... ugh... let's just say, what happens in one affects the other, and of course, never in a good way...

in the meantime, she put asher on flovent, a steroid inhaler. we're trying it for a month, to see if it will help.

please pray that it helps.

ok, i'm gonna go now... the littlest man remembered that i promised to buy him something if he went to sleep last night and behaved at his appointment this morning. boo!!! haha

ps - for those who want to know: 100.8 cm tall (which explains why he ate as much as he did the other week!), and 15.7 kg. (for the non-metric readers: that's 39.6 inches and 34.6 lbs.) his sats were 95% (the highest they've been in a while!), heart rate was 85 (slightly higher than pacer settings, so that's nice), and BP was 105/53. he was also very active, a nice warm pink colour, and only slightly puffy around his eyes. he didn't cough once. haha but she was happy that he looked so good, because now she knows his norm.

pps - i like our doc. she's very nice, pleasant but takes it all very seriously. easy to talk to, and she really listens, and she's not taking asher for granted. yup, i think this will be very, very good.

ppps - please hold us in the Light, especially me. the last few weeks have been really rough for me, and all of this now isn't helping. i just feel a little sad and overwhelmed and i don't want to lose my baby but for the life of me i can't shake this feeling that we've now started that slow decent toward the end... basically, i don't have a whole lot of hope right now. i'm weepy and tired and scared and lonely, and all of this compounded by the several other stressors i have right now, including much needed repairs on my truck and house, and the lack of funds for either. sorry, just needed to vent... thanks for "listening."

it's the morning of our resp appointment...

and here i sit, not sure how i actually feel about it all.

we're adding another specialist today. asher's been wheezing for a while now, he has a nasty wet and crackly cough, his sats are dropping. nothing much shows up on x-ray, but maybe the CT scan will show something when the time comes.

it's all so strange... it almost feels pointless, going to see another doctor, hoping they'll fix my baby, since they can't. sure, maybe they can fix his resp issues...

but they can't fix him.

because

"given that the fontan is palliative, he's doing as well as can be expected."

yes, i know that, technically, that is all good news. he's doing as well as can be expected. hooray!! but...

at the same time...

there's that p word.

why has that comment hit me so hard? i mean, it's completely true. the fontan is palliative. they can't fix asher's heart, but they can make it keep beating for a little while longer. and that's what they've done. but it's not a repair, and it's not permanent. his circulation can't last like this.

it is the very truth of the statement that hurts. i suspect i'd let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, asher will grow up. i mean, he's made it through so much already, right? he should have died so many times by now, and yet here he is, right? maybe he'll beat the odds and he'll finish high school and college and he'll get married and have kids and have a great career and he'll live to be 107.

given that the fontan is palliative, he's doing as well as can be expected.

i can almost hear the clock ticking.

this morning, like the last few weeks, i've been wrestling with the seeming futility of all of this. why bother taking him to emerge? why bother seeing cardio? why bother starting with a new specialist? why bother with tests? if this is the best he's gonna do, then what's the point?!?!

but...

what if these docs can give him just a few more years? then again, what if he still has a few more years, and they can give him ten more years? what if they can do something that will allow him to not only start high school, but to finish high school??

what a horrible thing it is to hope against hope that your child will live long enough to go to high school.

and yet, this is my reality.

there's no denying it: HLHS is a death sentence. given asher's extensive list of diagnoses, and his history, and his present, the odds aren't in his favour for a long life. he's not actively dying right now, thank God. but there are the little things that pop up and add up and take their toll on him...

and on me...

and sometimes, it's just a little much.

and sometimes, it's not nearly enough.

don't know why it's taken so long to update here...

maybe because it's all just so "meh"... not bad, per se... more like... um... wow. "meh" really is the best word. go ahead, say it out loud. you'll understand when you hear it.

on tuesday, asher stayed home from school because he wasn't 100%. other than a cough he's had for the last few weeks (yes, he still has it, and it's wet and gross sounding and it just seems to be getting worse, actually), i couldn't quite put my finger on what was wrong... he was just off... his colour wasn't right, his mood wasn't right, he slept in, i don't know... a bunch of little things that added up to me keeping him home so i could keep an eye on him.

we had to get some milk and eggs, so once blithe and bram were on the school bus, asher climbed into the stroller and we headed off to the store.

we decided to get a quick little bite to eat from the coffee shop first, though. he picked out his muffin and headed over to the table. and sat down. quietly. with his head on the table.

i got my coffee and our muffins and sat down with the littlest man. we munched, we chatted, we people-watched, we turned blue... well, ok, he turned blue. i watched.

and called our paediatrician.

and off we went to her office.

where she assessed him.

(the deets: BP was 100/50, which is weird for him; liver was large and 3 cm down; and his colour was "asher pink" to grey with blue undertones. yeah. lungs were wet and crackly, and he had a murmur.)

see, since he's been refluxing almost constantly for the last several weeks, one of the concerns was the possibility that he has been aspirating (stomach content/juices going into his lungs). granted, it seems somewhat unlikely, since his throat has been working so well for so long now, but he has quite the history with this sort of thing, so it needed to be investigated.

so, she sent us to emerg for sats, chest xray and ecg.

which asher did himself. no, seriously. he stuck out his finger for the sat probe (92% in triage, up to 95% before we left), attached his leads for the ecg (yes, he knows where they all go), and in xray, he hopped up onto the stool, arranged the lead apron, sat tall and still and took a deep breath without being told, then turned sideways and put his arms up for the second picture. all without being told. no one could believe he was doing all that. i said, "when you see his pictures, you'll understand how he knows all this." and they did. it's not often our local hospital sees a 4-yo with that much extra hardware in their chest.

Asher and Farkie Malarkie, both gowned and waiting for x-ray.

in the end, it was decided that he probably had "viral bronchitis" and we were sent home. a long day... for nothing, basically. :S

and speaking of long days... we had cardio on thursday.

it was the usual: pacemaker, ecg, echo, doc.

everything was uneventful. asher was paced throughout the appointment, and when they tested his heart during the pacer check (basically, she turned it off for a moment), his own heart rate was 60. that was his active heart rate, after running around and playing for half an hour. yeah. no wonder he was pale!! and no wonder he has a pacemaker! haha

k, so the pacemaker is working properly (no comment) and still has 8 years left in the battery. he's also about 75% paced (75% of his heart beats are initiated by the pacer).

now, because i know some of you are wondering... here are his vitals, etc:

• BP was 117/65 in his left leg, and 99/64 in right arm.
• sats were 94 to 95%. (asher's norm is 96 to 98, so this is lower than usual but only marginally so.)
• HR was 80 to 86, paced.
• liver was still low (3 cm) and enlarged.
• no mention of a murmur.

when doc came in, she said that he's doing "ok" right now. she also said that, since he's had his "fontan palliation" (anyone else wanna vomit at that term??? i know it's true, but she usually just calls it the fontan. {wave of nausea}), as long as function is good and the pacer is working, he'll be "ok" and "i looked at his echo and everything seems to be fine, no coarc or leaking and function is good. basically," quoth she, "he's doing as well as we can expect at this point. but you know, the fontan is palliative. but any problems that come up will be slow to develop, which will give us some time to deal with them. but right now, he's doing as well as we can hope for at this point."

k, all of that is true.

and all of that is good news.

but um... it's just that... usually... she puts it all very positively. "he's had the fontan, therefore he is doing very well. i'm happy with him. we'll see you in 6 months." in all the time i've known her, i've never heard her use the word "palliation" or say "as well as we can expect"... i don't know... yes, it's good news... and yes, all those phrases and words are true... 

maybe it's just that... it's one thing to know those things, and it's another thing entirely to hear the doc say them...

and when you're trying to ignore your child's odds, the last things you want to hear are the words "palliation" and "as well as we can expect." 

i'm trying not to get too upset by it. sure, it was pretty rough on thursday. but i handed it over to God and i'm now feeling a lot better... just holding the truth of it all, instead of the pain that truth causes... 

but some days i feel like the clock is ticking, you know? and thursday was one of those days, i guess. that's probably why it's taken me so long to post any of this... but on the other hand, i know it's all true, and really, he is doing "as well as we can expect at this point," so i cling to that truth, and if/when anything else comes up, we'll deal with it then. meanwhile, i'll enjoy that asher has spent the last week eating (a delightful change!) and even in the heat, he's doing "as well as we can expect."

maybe it's just that i'm sick of docs and i'm sick of cardio and i'm sick of tests and i'm sick of hospitals. and i'm sick of asher being so comfortable with it and i'm sick of asher doing his own ecg's and i'm sick of asher sitting so nicely for xrays and i'm sick of seeing asher lie still for echoes and i'm sick of seeing him with leads and a blood pressure cuff. 

it's weird... i'm not actually feeling as down as this post seems to imply. i'm just really, really tired of heart stuff, you know? and really, it was a "nothing" week, even though a bunch of stuff happened... so what if he's back to "asher pink" and not actual pink lately. i've seen him worse colours, to be honest. it's the humidity that's doing it, i'm sure, since, frankly, i don't like the humidity, either, and i wilt just a little bit during a heat wave, too, so really, i don't think it's really anything to worry about. i don't like his colour, but he's doing ok, so i'll just let his mood be the deciding factor. if he's his usual spunky self, then i won't worry.

and lately, he's his usual spunky self. so i'm not worried. 

sorry for the absence...

but believe me, you didn't really miss anything. haha

we see cardiology on the 16th for a complete check-up. echo, ecg, pacemaker check, and a holter. i'll fill you in on all of that when the time comes.

as for asher...

he's fine. haha

no, seriously. he's fine. if you watched him, you'd swear nothing happened. he bounced back from this latest episode in no time at all.

physically, that is.

and even emotionally, too, for the most part. PTSD only came out for a little while, and only in a small degree: some scary dreams and disturbed sleep for a week or so, and he's still insisting he's a "little boy" and not a big boy, even when he does distinctly "big boy" things. he did regress a little bit and is back to loving his sucky and "needing" it most of the time, and ok, i'll admit, i was humouring him (read: spoiling him) and letting him have it. but like i told a friend recently, "if he had been breastfed, he'd likely still be nursing, since i believe in natural weaning, and this is a form of stress relief for him, and God knows asher has more than his fair share of stress, so i'm letting him use it for now." i have been taking it away from him for a few hours every day, hiding it in high places so he can't find it and grab it back. haha

but in the meantime, asher's been at home for the last couple weeks. and it's been wonderful! :) we've been baking and gardening and shopping and napping and generally hanging out. and i gotta say,

i've loved every second of it.

maybe it's selfish on my part, but he's just such a delightful little boy! he's so much fun, and he's hilarious, and he's so smart and playful and bright... the last couple weeks have been an endless stream of hugs and kisses and giggles. probably the best couple weeks i've ever had with him. ever.

we were out grocery shopping one day last week, and he was so funny. i don't even remember what he did, but i looked at him and thought, "wow! i'd forgotten how magical 4-year old boys are!" and then it hit me: i never really got to enjoy bram at this age, because asher was in such rough shape. so i was saddened by that. and then i thought, "well, i know a 4-year old boy is very different than a 4-year old girl..." and then i realized that, when blithe was 4, i was dealing with a rough pregnancy, then asher's diagnosis, and we spent most of the next couple years in hospitals and clinics with asher... so i never really got to enjoy blithe as much at this age as i would have liked to, either.

so that's been a bit of a downer for me.

but! i get to enjoy this age now, and it's truly wonderful. not just for the delights of the age, but also... because i have a 4-year-old boy. and that is magical and delightful and miraculous and wondrous and beautiful. when i think back over the last 4.5 years, i am truly amazed and grateful that he's still here, bringing so much light and happiness into our lives. even when the kids are all fighting, and asher's crying because bram grabbed back the toy that asher had taken from him and "brammy doesn't like me anymore!" it's still beautiful.

we've spent the last couple days in the backyard working in the garden (asher was only outside for little bits at a time, due to the humidity). asher had gotten some carrot seeds at mcdonald's (?!?!) the other day, and he was so anxious to plant them... which meant... i had to go find the garden. haha so i've spent two days pulling out weeds and grass, discovering things like onions and wheat (thank-you, birdies), and getting him to "help" me (mostly him pointing to weeds for me to pull and me telling him to watch where he steps because there's a plant right next to your foot no asher the other foot sigh you just stepped on the onion no worries it'll be ok). we've enjoyed the cardinal that lives around here, and asher had fun showing it to the "callapidder" he found and named elmo (surprised? haha). it's been so cute watching him with "elmo callapidder" and "mr squirmy" (a worm... or more accurately, several worms, but when you're 4 they all look alike, i think. haha). "don't be shy, elmo, it's me, ashie!" and "here's some dirt for you, mr squirmy, isn't that nice? now you can eat that all up!" see? adorable. {blissful sigh}

last night, there was a muffin sitting, untouched, on the coffee table. i asked asher to put it back with the other muffins, on top of the freezer. "but i don't want to," he said, and started to walk off. "asher, please put it away now or you'll get a time out and then you'll do it." "ok, mommy!" he said, with a smile (????). he grabbed the muffin and ran off to the kitchen. he came back and said, "ok, mommy, i put da muffin away." somewhat skeptical, i asked, "where did you put it, sweetie?" "in da fridge." ok, so it's not exactly where i'd told him, and i showed him where it was supposed to go, but he was just so cute!!!

i think it's safe to say that i've fallen in love with that littlest man of mine all over again.

now, all this being said about how much fun i've had with him at home for the last couple of weeks....

asher's back at school today. he said he didn't want to go back. in fact, he'd been saying that for a few days. and even this morning, it was, "i don't want to get dressed! i don't want to go to school!" but i got him dressed (in the cutest little outfit! ugh! he's so adorable it's sickening!! haha). got his lunch all packed (thank-you, Blithe, for your help!), and we set off for the bus stops. asher was complaining and complaining... until his bus turned the corner onto our street. suddenly it was, "MY BUS!!!!" and he literally ran all the way to the bus and climbed on and jumped into his seat and only looked back long enough to blow me a kiss good-bye before the bus pulled away. all together now: aaawwwwwww!!!!!!! yup, that's right. he's just. that. adorable.

so, here i sit, alone, for the first time in a couple weeks, in a quiet house, with my laptop and coffee... and i gotta say, as much as i miss that littlest man of mine, it's nice to have some quiet. {wink} and so now, if you don't mind, i'm gonna go outside with my journal and a book and my coffee, and enjoy the first perfectly, beautifully sunny and warm but not humid day we've had all week.

ps - a little boy from our church, little Joshie, was diagnosed with leukemia last week. please hold him and his family in the Light. he's getting his port today, and docs and mom are hopeful that he'll be ready to go home later this week. please pray for them on the long journey ahead of them.

i heart laundry.

ok, not really. at least, not usually. but today,

i love laundry.

so, i'm upstairs, folding my way through a GIANT pile of clean clothes, and i pull out a pair of underwear. i check the size, and it's asher's.

and i smiled.

because just two months ago, he was still in pull-ups.

and he's not anymore.

{smile}

and then, i continued folding the laundry, and i suddenly realized something:

i'm folding asher's laundry.

i'm folding asher's laundry.

my littlest man produces oodles and oodles of laundry.

because he's still here.

yup. i heart laundry.

so much sweetness

today i let the morning routine slide. (yes, i know, it's only day 3, but i think it was worth it. teehee)

i got up a few minutes late, but i got dressed. came downstairs, took the fresh loaf out of the bread maker, poured myself a cup of coffee that had already brewed (mmm... programmable coffee maker...), and started pondering lunches.

i went upstairs to check on asher, who, unlike blithe and bram, was still asleep.

soundly.

lying on his back, sprawled out across his bed, mouth open with his sucky dangling precariously from the corner of his lips.

i stood there and watched him for a moment or two...

and let him sleep in.

blithe and bram got ready for school, and i watched them walk to the bus stop. they're so delightful, you know? they walk along, so young and fresh and yet also somehow so grown up... blithe has her uber-girlie walk, and bram with his little man gait. they were chatting and laughing and waving to me when they looked for traffic before crossing the street. and they got to the bus stop and chatted with their friends.

i went back inside and went upstairs to check on asher again.

he was just climbing out of bed, his crazy hair all crazy messy, sucky securely popped back in his mouth, and he flashed the brightest smile when he saw me come in the room.

i got him out of his grinch pj's, and helped him pick out his outfit for the day, and he told me all about his cozy and comfy and warm socks that he picked out a long time ago.

as he walked into the bathroom, i marvelled that just a couple months ago, he was still in diapers, and now here he is, completely potty trained.

i watched him put on his rubber boots on the wrong feet, and smiled.

i offered to help him put his jacket right side out, but he ignored me and kept working on it until the sleeves were right. he put it on by himself and made a zzzzip! when he pulled up the zipper.

he tried to open the front door, which i then unlocked, and he walked outside and waited on the porch while i locked the house.

he climbed up into the truck and plopped himself down in his car seat and chattered away while i buckled him in.

off we went to school, and we held hands as we walked through the front doors and down the hall to his classroom. he showed me his pictures on the wall and door, and told his EA all about his hospital dolly.

and as i left him there, i thought,

how is it possible to be blessed with just so much sweetness in my life?

and i smiled.

well, it was a day...

so, asher was home from school yesterday, which meant that he and i were going to have a delightful day, just the two of us. oh, i had grand plans. he wanted sushi for lunch, and i was going to spend the afternoon doing laundry and tidying up around here.

the best laid plans... sigh...

so, he was feeling fine in the morning. a little tired, but he hadn't slept overly well on the weekend, due to the diuretics waking him up a few times a night. but other than that, he was fine. chipper, funny, playful, laughing hysterically at treehouse cartoons.

we got dressed and headed out for lunch. we got our sushi, sat down, and started to eat. he ate the rice from a couple rolls, but just kept on talking and playing. (he doesn't eat much, so this wasn't unusual, so i thought nothing of it.) he started talking about some of the things he saw around us, making conversation, and pointing out things he wanted me to notice. so i noticed them.

and then i noticed him.

he was navy blue.

still chatting, but slowly becoming less animated.

and then he started shivering.

i asked him if he was cold and wanted to put his coat on, and he said no.

so i reached across the table and touched his hand

and it was cold.

and i don't mean warm with a hint of cool.

it was just. plain. cold.

i watched him for a moment, thinking (read: hoping) he'd just caught a draft and he'd warm up in a minute.

but then he started getting cranky and tired, and he was still blue and still shivering and still cold to the touch.

so i called our amazing dr b, who is on call, and she sent us to the paeds ward at our local hospital for a sat and blood pressure check.

sats were fine (97%), bp was fine (113/59). and she checked his temp. (by now he was starting to feel a bit warm, but nothing too bad....)

underarm temp was 39.2C (102.5F). 

we went off to dr b's office, where he was very irritable, very lethargic, still pretty warm 20 mins after the tylenol at the hospital), and he was complaining that his pacemaker hurt.

so she checked his pacemaker, and yes, it hurt. and the zipper there, along with his G-tube scar were pink.

they're never pink.

so it was looking like there might be an infection in his pacer site. if that happens, it's bad, because those infections tend to spread quickly and if it gets into the pacer pocket, as you might remember, it's got a highway straight to his heart. we've been through this before, and it wasn't fun, to say the least.

off we went to emerg in london. dr b called cardio and gave them a heads-up. she spoke with the NP who was quite concerned (!!) and said that they would need to do a blood culture, and a urine culture (because it's asher, and he has a long, complicated history. urine cultures are now routine for trips to emerg for him).

we were taken right in, and the doc assessed him. yup, he's sick. so he called cardio.

who sent the resident.

who called cardio.

who came down.

and assessed a sleeping and suddenly febrile asher (as in, 20 minutes earlier he was perfectly fine, playing and sitting at a delightfully normal temp. suddenly, he became flushed and warm and curled up on my lap and fell asleep. all that happened in the space of 5 minutes). his temp was back up to 38.7C (101.6F). cardio poked the pacer site, and asher winced and whined, but did not wake up. asher always wakes up for this sort of thing. the cardio poked his pacer, checked his liver, looked in his ear, so yeah, there were a lot of opportunities for my littlest man to wake up. 

and he didn't.

so cardio ordered an ECG. which asher slept through.

and then we were taken upstairs to the cardio clinic for a quick echo, just to check pump function. asher woke up as i put him on the bed, and i gave him the advil our nurse had provided. cardio gave him a tootsie pop, and did the echo, which was fine. then he gave asher another tootsie pop. and he said, "well, his heart is fine, so i think it's just a virus. you can probably go now, but check what they say in emerg."

the doc came over and said that since the chest and abdominal xrays were fine, and the echo and ecg were fine, we could go.

now, at this point, i was not aware of what the NP had said, but rest assured, when i informed dr b that we were coming home, she said, "did they do bloodwork? how was it?" ummm... "they didn't do any bloodwork."

"WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!" quoth dr b.

it was ruled viral and we were sent home... without bloodwork. no CBC, no culture. both of which are just standard procedure when asher's in emerg.

now, don't get me wrong. i'm quite happy with them not poking my boy and hurting him like that. he's tired of being poked, and i don't like it, either. but um... bloodwork would have given us some answers.

and because the symptoms came on so quickly...

and that has happened before...

in october 2007, for example, when asher had sepsis...

do you kinda think some bloodwork and maybe a culture would be asking too much??

this morning, asher still has a pretty high fever (39.5C, or 103.1F, which is pretty close to his febrile seizure threshold), but as long as the tylenol is doing its thing, he seems ok. fever comes down (he's still warm but not too bad), and he's in a better mood and tormenting poor little Mouse), so right now i'm not overly concerned. it may, in fact, "just" be viral and he'll pull through in a few days.

but still. an important test was not done.

so, i'll admit, i'm a little torn. cardio checked him out as thoroughly as they can, which frankly, is huge. the NP even said that tests were needed. and i think we're at the point now that when tests like this are ordered, i get a little freaxious.

it's good that they took this seriously and did something, so i'm not complaining about that.

but the bloodwork...

or lack thereof...

that worries me a bit. and frustrates me a lot.

i'm almost to the point of moving to another city so that we're closer to SickKids and another children's hospital. don't worry, there are a lot of things keeping us here, and i have to think about the entire family, not just asher. and our paeds can order bloodwork etc here if she wants and i have no issues driving to toronto for cardio if i have to, so we likely won't be moving any time soon... but the idea is there, and it's being considered. i'm just getting to frustrated here. i don't know what to do, frankly. i just don't know...

surrendering is NOT the same as giving up.

oh, my sweet, sweet little asher...

by now you probably know that, if he's not already failing, he's at least "flirting" with it.

and as you can probably imagine, i hate it.

i love my littlest man. but just last month i was reminded of something:

kids with HLHS have a 70% chance of surviving to 5 years.

and asher is already 4.

now, i know, statistics are not a death sentence. i know. i really do. but...

asher's HLHS is pretty much as bad as it gets. and he "should" be dead 15 times by now.

the other day, when we went to see our amazing dr b, i already knew what she was going to say. i was hoping for an ear infection or bronchitis or a nasty cold or something, but i knew. i memorized that list of symptoms when asher was four weeks old. i know what to look for, and i knew what i was looking at.

i also know about the possible ischemia, i'm watching and waiting for a heart attack, i'm pretty sure his pacemaker isn't working properly.

but the moment dr b uttered the words "congestive heart failure," it was as if someone kicked me in the stomach. i wanted to vomit. i wanted to cry. and i was just. so. tired.

call me crazy, but i don't want my precious little man to die. i don't. and i can guarantee that anyone who has met him feels the same way. he's just too amazing, too sweet, too funny, too loving, too.... asher-ish for that. i want him to grow up and grow old and have a dozen healthy kids and a hundred grandkids and a thousand great-grandkids.

but that 30% haunts me...

and yet, i know that God specifically designed asher's heart this way. i don't know why, but i know that He did.

so how do i reconcile this mother-love/fierce determination to see my child grow up, with God's will?

um... i don't know.

quite a while back, i was in a small group. and we were talking about surrender. namely, surrendering our baggage to God. here is what i said:

my son has half a heart. he's been through too many surgeries, too many infections, too many hospital admissions. he has too many doctors. and yet, i know that this is God's plan for him. and so, because of that, i have surrendered asher to Him. whatever He chooses to do, whether it's to heal asher completely, whether it's to take him from me, whether it's to keep him here and not take away this illness, i have accepted and will continue to accept that that is God's will. but in the meantime, even while i wait to find out what God has planned, i have to deal with all of this. i have to take asher to appointments. i have to watch for symptoms. i have to sign consent forms. i have to sit with him in ICU. i have to feed him according to his special dietary needs. i have to deal with his condition now, even though i've handed him over to God.

and that's that, i guess. i've surrendered asher to his Maker. thankfully, his Maker has decided that asher will stick around, though for how long is anyone's guess. but i still have to deal with all this crap.

i read something interesting today:

faith isn't necessary when we know the outcome. faith is what gets us through the uncertainty.

yes, i'm exhausted. yes, i am completely sick and tired of heart stuff. yes, i hate it.

no, i don't know how long he'll be here. no, i don't know if he'll ever get a new heart. no, i don't know what's going on in that wonky little heart of his. no, i don't know if he'll pull through this latest bout of failure-ish. no, i don't know how bad it will get, or if the few doses of HCT will do the trick.

i just. don't. know.

and i hate that.

but.

when i stop, and i mean

when i stop

and listen

and look

God is there, doing something. i don't know what He's doing, but He's in there.

and i'm ok with that.

(ish.)

but i accept that God sees the big picture and i don't and He knows what's best and i don't and He loves asher waaaaay more than even i ever could.

if He chooses to take asher at some point, i'll hate it. but i'll accept it. i'll weep and sleep and grieve and mourn and stare off into space because that's the only thing i'll be capable of doing (can you tell i've mourned him a few times already, that i'd have an idea of what i'll be like?)...

being asher's mother isn't easy. being asher isn't easy. but you know what?

every night, when asher says his prayers, he asks God to "make me feel much better." how does this 4-year old know to ask God to do that? how does he know that God can do that? and how does he not stop asking for relief despite the fact that it doesn't come and he still has chest pain every day and he still gets tired and short of breath and overloaded with fluid and he still can't keep up with blithe and bram?

somewhere along the way, asher has learned to trust God.

and somewhere along the way, asher has learned to wait patiently for God.

and it still hurts and he's still scared and he's still going for therapy on tuesday and he's still sick...

and he's still trusting God and waiting for God and looking to God for what he can't do himself.

i'll admit, sometimes i get caught up in the horror of HLHS and CHF. sometimes i mourn my child who is still here but may not be for much longer. sometimes i just hold my breath waiting for God to do something, anything.

but most of the time, i just continue to watch for symptoms and take him to the docs and give him his meds and feed him fatty foods and keep on keepin' on...

and i wait for God.

and you know what they say about waiting for God:

But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. they will soar high on wings like eagles. they will run and not grow weary. they will walk and not faint.  (isaiah 40:31)

last night i just wanted to cry when i thought about this latest bout of failure. and i almost cried when i told my friend about it this morning at church. but i also know that God is in control. God has a plan. and God hasn't forgotten about us. so we're just waiting for Him.

and tonight, sure, i still want to cry and vomit when i think about it all. but i'm not so tired. and i remembered to pack his meds tonight when he went to his dad's. and i'm going to make an appointment for him to see paeds again, and i'm going to take him for play therapy on tuesday. we're going to keep going, because we're waiting for God and trusting God, and that gives us the strength we need to get through today. today we ran and didn't grow weary. tomorrow we may walk and not faint. our pace isn't the fastest and we don't actually know where we're going, but we'll just keep on going.

and for today, that's enough.

nothing good comes from a 4 year old flirt

especially when that 4 year old flirt is asher.

and he's not flirting with anything good.

so, we saw paeds this afternoon. asher has been puffy and pale for the last few days, and pretty short of breath. as in, well nigh gasping for air after walking across a room. nice.

now, the other week i took asher in to see our amazing dr b when asher was puffy. his ear was pink, and his lungs were wet, and his liver was down and actually lower than it's been in a very long time. she called cardio, who said, "as long as he's doing well with his feeds he should be ok." ("feeds"?? is asher a baby???)

this week, asher's liver is still down, his heart rate is 100 (dead-on, as usual... sound paced to anyone else?), tachypnic (breathing fast, like 50 breaths per minute), his liver is still just as far down. he's puffy, pale, tired, not eating much, not peeing as much, sweaty and warm (not feverish), a bit irritable, short of breath, etc etc etc....

oh, yeah. and his legs are puffy.

which they never are.

ever.

ever.

amazing dr b says, "well, asher's definitely flirting with CHF. i'm going to suggest you go to hamilton and spend the weekend at your parents'. that way, if he needs to be seen, you're closer to SickKids emerg."

but, before we left, she decided to call london cardio.

but she called and spoke with the cardio on call. for the record, it's the same doc who has said, "oh yeah, these symptoms (of severe CHF) are normal for this stage," "as long as he's tolerating his feeds, he's fine," and "are you sure he's hypoplastic left?" so you can imagine what i expected.

but what he said was...

wait for it...

"give him some lasix and see how he is on monday."

wha---?!?!?!

this doc, famous for brushing off everything, took this seriously and prescribed a med to deal with it.

oh, wait. some of you might not know what lasix is. it's a diurretic. it's job is to make the patient pee a lot, thereby removing excess fluid from the body. in CHF, the heart doesn't function well enough, so blood doesn't move through the body properly, and fluid leaches out of the blood and accumulates in the tissue, usually around the eyes, fingers/hands, and feet/ankles. this also increases blood pressure, and will cause the heart's function to decrease proportional to the amount of fluid build-up. it's a vicious circle, and lasix (and other diurretics) are designed to stop the cycle. ideally, it stops CHF in its tracks.

sounds good, you say?? well, yes... generally... which is to say, the idea is good, but the proposed med is a no-go for asher. you see, asher has nephrocalcinosis. this means that there is a build-up of calcium in the kidneys, which impairs renal function, which increases blood pressure, decreases heart function, which impairs renal function, which increases blood pressure... yup, another vicious circle. and lasix... causes calcium to build up in the kidneys.

delightful!!

but asher can't have lasix, so so i asked dr b prescribe HCT instead. HCT (hydrochlorothiazide, which i spell out merely to show off, haha) is another diurretic, albeit a milder one than lasix. so instead of one dose, dr b prescribed seven. haha

anyway, there you have it. asher's flirting with congestive heart failure. and i'm going to spend a freaxious weekend watching him and praying that the HCT will handle things and he'll feel better.

that being said... please continue to pray for him. i still have my suspicions about the pacemaker, which was supposed to get checked on wednesday in toronto, but due to horrible weather, we didn't make it. asher and i got stuck overnight in hamilton, actually. but he is still complaining frequently that his heart is "sick" or "hurting" or "feels squeezed," and he was going to tell our toronto cardio this week that he frequently gets a lot of pain in his chest, left arm, neck, shoulder and jaw. he also tells me fairly often that his heart is "burning." this has been mentioned to cardio (london)... and yet, even though they know he doesn't generally reflux anymore unless his heart is doing things it shouldn't... they brushed it off. sigh. i know the reflux will resolve when his heart improves, so i'm not concerned about the reflux itself. it's just frustrating to know that something is wrong and docs don't seem to be listening.

so please pray for me, too. i'm tired, to be honest. the fontan was supposed to be it. it was supposed to usher us into the "promised land," where hearts are stable for a very long time and we can enjoy normal life. granted, he's more stable than he's ever been in the past... but that's not saying much. so i'm tired of all this heart stuff, and asher's tired of all this heart stuff, and i'm feeling burned out, and asher's scared of doctors again.

anyway, there you go. a little update. if anything happens over the weekend, i'll let you know. and when we see a doc next week (still need to reschedule for toronto), whether it's cardio here or there, or paeds, rest assured i'll fill you in on that, too. thanks for the prayers.

um... ok...??? aka, why i'm really starting to believe in multiple universes. aka, blerg. :S

so, it was cardio yesterday. and i have to admit, it left me with more questions, confusion, a little bit of freaxia, and a touch of "WTF?!" (for lack of a better term).

but for anything here to make sense to you (haha), you're gonna need some background information:

• asher's pacemaker is set at 80. this means that his heart rate is never supposed to go below 80 beats per minute.
• when the pacer was checked in august, it was firing approximately 80% of the time and had 6 years left in the battery.
• when the pacer was checked in october, it was firing approximately 80% of the time and had 5.5 years left in the battery.
• between april (when he got the pacer) and november, asher's heart rate was always in the 80 to 86 range. never higher. which means that he was basically just riding the pacer.
• over the last couple of months, asher's heart rate has been in the 100 to 108 range. it has never been lower whenever it was checked (other than tuesday, when it was 74).

so, we went to clinic today for our pacemaker check.

so dr w checked the pacemaker.

and according to the computer,

• the pacemaker is firing 88% of the time. you'll note, that is 10% higher than in october.
• the pacemaker battery has 8.5 years of juice left.

um... wha-?!?!

ok, so i'll readily admit that i am not the most tech savvy person out there. yes, i'm pretty handy when it comes to knowing how to use a computer, but i know virtually nothing about how the computer actually works. and i'm not electrician, but i think i've got a pretty decent handle on batteries.

meaning, i know that they don't recharge themselves. on their own. without help. 

and they certainly don't gain half again as much power. on their own. without help.

and they most definitely do not gain half again as much power by working harder than ever.

and why, if it's working so much, is his heart rate so often in the low 100s? i mean, if it's firing that often, shouldn't his heart rate be in the low 80s most of the time? again, i'm no electophysiologist, but it seems to me that if his heart rate is consistently in the low 100s, that would mean that his pacemaker is firing less often, not more. but apparently it's firing more often.

oh. yeah. some of you reading might not realize this: the pacemaker is designed to keep the heart rate above 80. after a few minutes of shocking the heart, it will pause, to see if the heart can sustain its own rate. if it does, the pacer stops firing and goes into "sensing" mode. the pacemaker will not prompt every single heart beat. so it is asher's own heart that is beating 100 times a minute. the pacer has nothing to do with that.

and in addition to not being an EP, i am also not a statistician. so can someone please tell me the odds of asher's pulse being checked only during the few minutes that the pacer isn't firing? that those rare moments of non-pacing are the times when his pulse is checked? every. single. time? what is the probability that his pacer is firing all the time except when his pulse is counted and those moments just happen to be the only times he's not paced? 

you can see why i'm so confused.

dr w did offer one possible explanation, though: growing pains. makes a bit of sense, when you think about it... he's a growing boy and he has a lot of things in there that don't grow, so there can be some pulling and straining and so forth. but...

i don't understand where the jaw and left arm come into play with this theory. i mean, i remember having growing pains when i was growing painfully back in the day, and i don't remember having pain in my jaw. as for the left arm...

other than the pacemaker, which is on the left side, below his ribs and squished against his stomach... everything non-grow-able is on his right side. glenn? right side. fontan? right side. pacer leads? right side. stent in the aortic arch? center. MPA patches? center. RPV patches? just right of center.

ok, i know there's the possibility of pulling and such and that pain could radiate... but...

riddle me this...

when you have a patient present in emerg with an extensive history of severe heart disease, symptomatic bradycardia and Sick Sinus Syndrome with a pacemaker, and his heart rate is decreased (below his normal and pacer settings), and he is grey and very flushed and complaining about chest pain radiating down his left arm, are you going to think... growing pains???

i don't know...

i just don't know...

you see why i have so many questions now. i don't get it. the growing pains theory makes sense if you eliminate tuesday. the pacemaker report makes sense if you disregard everything you've observed and reported before yesterday's appointment, as well as all laws governing batteries and technology.

and this is why i'm starting to believe that, sometime in the last couple months, we slipped into a parallel universe. one where dryers don't blow fuses with every load (been having some electrical issues at home), stove burners actually heat up (the burner that hadn't worked in 3 years decided to work the other week and i almost burned the house down), blithe wants to clean her room and do as she's told the first time, and batteries recharge themselves by working harder and longer than ever.

an open letter to my sweet, sweet Asher.

sigh.

oh, my sweet boy, i just love you so much.

i love your smile and your belly laugh and the way your eyes twinkle. i love your crazy hair and your goofy sense of humour. i love the fact that you're the "little spoon" at bedtime when we cuddle. i love our "travelling kisses" and how i don't know where you came up with that name, but when i kiss you on the cheek, you wipe it off and rub it on your chest and say "de butterflies are in my heart now, mommy." i love your hugs, or rather, i love how you run up and launch yourself at me and grab onto me and squeeze every bit of love in that heart of yours into my open arms... or my thigh... whatever you can reach at the time.

i love your strength. i love your courage. i love that you have survived so much and you carry on with so much light and joy. i love that you learned to say "guten tag" to dr w, and that you were thrilled to know that Kraftwerk (your favourite band) are german, too.

and as much as i hate to admit it...

i love your scars.

honestly, littlest man, i think they're beautiful. they tell a story. they tell your story. each scar, from the tiniest IV scars on your hands to the zippers all over your torso, each one is a badge of honour from yet another battle you survived.

but oh, my littlest man, i hate

hate!!!


that you have had to go through all of this. the surgeries and the appointments and the caths and the tests and the IVs and the intubations and the broken ribs and the admissions...

i think of your broken heart,

and my heart breaks.

i know all this is hard for you. believe me, i know. i've seen it in your eyes. i've heard it in your voice.

i'm glad you're so strong. and i'm glad you know that mommy is always right there with you, fighting this horrible battle alongside you. and when you're tired and weak, i'll fight for you. i promise.

but that being said...

i've told you before... during a couple brutal admissions... sigh...

if you ever get too weak and tired...

and you just. can't. do it anymore...

i'll understand.

i've had to let you go so many times already. it's not right. no one should ever have to let go of the child they brought into this world. but i've done it. i've handed you over to strangers, and ultimately, i have handed you over to God.

the thought of losing you haunts me more than you will ever know.

the thought of losing you hurts me more than you will ever know.

i don't want to lose you.

i don't want to lose you i don't want to lose you i don't want to lose you i don't want to lose you.

and honestly, the way you live your day-to-day life, i probably won't any time soon. and that makes me happy. that heals me and holds me and carries me through. and i know that it does the same for you.

you're a beautiful person, little man. you're like... gloopy globs of glitter glue smeared across the shiny side of crumpled tin foil. that's how sparkly and shiny you are. you're the painting i hang on the fridge, the stickers on your shoes, and the night light that scares away the monsters under the bed.

please stick around for a long time...

because those monsters under the bed are nasty.

CHD. a most beautiful gift.

yes, you read that right.

CHD is the most beautiful gift.

now, don't get me wrong. i invented the word "freaxious" for a reason. it's how you feel when you agree to an experimental shunt being placed in your newborn's heart. it's how you feel when you consent to strangers freezing your baby to death so they can slice and dice his heart. it's how you feel when a doc says, "on paper, this will work." it's how you feel when a cardiologist says, "i'm frightened now, to be honest." it's how you feel when your child turns blue and grey for no apparent reason. it's how you feel when a doc says, "yeah, this can't wait. i'll see him in my office tomorrow."

so, yeah, sometimes (ok, a lot of times) CHD really, really sucks.

but then again...

when i had blithe, i missed her first steps. she'd been cruising around and using chairs to walk for so long (literally, months!!) that it occurred to me one day that she was walking, and she had been doing this for days, and i hadn't even noticed when she started. (yes, bad mom, i know. haha)

but here's something:

i missed asher's first steps, too. same deal: he'd been cruising on furniture and playing with blithe and bram at the coffee table and holding on to his little riding car for a few weeks, and one day it occurred to me that he wasn't using anything else to walk anymore. he was just toddling around with his little backpack and laughing and babbling away. i have no idea when he started walking.

but my point is... asher walks!!!!!

here's something else:

so, asher doesn't eat much. he'll eat the inside of his sandwich, or half his banana, or drink some of his milk...

but look:

asher eats. he'll eat the inside of his sandwich, or half his banana, or drink some of his milk!!!

i know we, as moms, tend to complain about dirty laundry scattered across our 4-year old's bedroom floor. it's annoying. i mean, seriously, how hard is it for them to put their clothes in the hamper?

but CHD makes me stop.

and look at the dirty laundry scattered across my 4-year old's bedroom floor. and smile. because it's not all that hard for him to put it his clothes in the hamper.

in the grocery store, when he's throwing a tantrum because i won't let him sit in the basket of the cart, but (terrible mother that i am) i make him sit in the seat so that he doesn't run off and so that i'll have room for the groceries, i get frustrated with him.

but CHD makes me stop.

and sit him down in the seat of the cart instead of the basket. and smile at my own frustration.

in the hospital cafeteria last week, everyone saw two little kids dancing.

my friend and i saw dozens of little miracles in those two little kids dancing.

asher's got crazy hair and a wicked short temper. he shrieks and only dogs can hear him. this morning, on our way to his classroom at school, he cried and told me that i'm mean and i don't like him anymore because i didn't zip up his coat when we left the office. yesterday, he threw a dinky car across the living room. on saturday night, he turned grey in his sleep.

but!

last week, asher got a hair cut, and he looks so grown up. and he got a time-out for yelling at me. and he shrieks when he's happy. this morning, he went to school. yesterday, he was playing with dinky cars. on sunday morning, he woke up.

yes, thanks to CHD, i live in fear of the day a cardiologist discusses turning off asher's pacemaker. and thanks to CHD, my baby's torso is covered in scars. and thanks to CHD, i worry that i'll brush off the wrong symptoms because, meh, i've seen him worse.

but thanks to CHD, i breathe through the tantrums. i enjoy walking him to his classroom. i live for half-eaten lunches and pictures on the walls (literally, on the walls... he isn't always a fan of paper).

asher should be dead 15 times by now. because of CHD. this disease has brought more pain and fear and suffering into our lives than should be allowed by nature. but this disease has also brought more miracles and love and life into our lives than should be allowed by nature.

today is the first day of CHD Awareness Month. so i wanted to focus on the good that has come our way because of asher's heart. it's too easy to get stuck in the crap, to focus on the surgeries and the meds and the appointments and the complications and the fears and the dread and the anxieties and the nausea. and yes, i'll be happy when CHD doesn't exist anymore, or when the course for HLHS is no longer "palliative" (meaning, "let's try to keep him alive as long as possible, but it's still terminal."), or when everyone i know and everyone i have yet to meet gives money to CHD research, or when no more families lose their babies to the most common birth defect, or when CHD no longer kills more children than all childhood cancers combined. i will be deliriously happy when that happens.

but in the meantime, CHD has taught me this:

CHD has taught me to enjoy life. to cherish the little things. to see the bigger picture.

CHD has taught me

to live.

How CHD messes with your head... or maybe just how Asher does... hard to tell sometimes...

So, last night, asher was grey.

And i remembered another time when he was grey in his sleep.

Last spring.

When his heart rate was in the 20s and 30s.

As soon as i saw him, i flashed back to those nights. Those scary, scary nights.

Those freaxiating nights.

Those heartbreaking nights.

I didn’t think he’d survive long enough to get the pacemaker. I don’t think i ever put that into words, either spoken or in writing, but that’s what i was thinking at the time.

And so, when i saw him last night, sleeping, grey...

I thought about taking him in to emerg. Because... you know... what if...

His heart wasn’t beating fast enough...

But i looked at him, lying there, so grey, so peaceful.

Not short of breath,

Not sweating,

Not indrawing beneath his ribcage,

And rousing when i moved his arm.

And i thought... well, i can rouse him, so that’s good... and he doesn’t seem distressed right now, so that’s good...

But he is grey.

And he really shouldn’t be.

I called amazing dr b because, honestly, i didn’t know what to do. Should i take him in? Should i just brush this off? He can’t have a slow heart rate anymore. It will always be at least 80.

But then i thought... what if his pacemaker isn’t working properly???

But then, wouldn’t he be sweating? Or short of breath? And un-rouse-able?

But he’s so grey.

This is what this life does to a mom, after a while. He’s been through so much. And i’ve been through so much with him. and i’ve learned a lot. I’ve learned to listen to my instincts, but i’ve also learned all the clinical things to watch for.

So now, whenever he has a symptom, i begin to wonder,

Should i take him in for this? I’ve seen him like this before, and it was bad... but he doesn’t have any other symptoms. Just this one. So should i take him in?

I just don’t know anymore.

It used to be so easy. When he was very young, if he had any symptoms at all, even “just” a runny nose, i took him in. And they always found a problem. Which always ended up messing with his heart in one way or another.

See, he’s had all these symptoms so often, for so long, it’s gotten to the point where i’ve built up a tolerance for some of them. Even his colour wheel, i’ve become so accustomed to it... I can brush off pale (for a few days). I can tolerate blue. But any shade of grey makes me want to vomit. 

So what do i do? Do i listen to the same advice i gave my close heartmom friend, “better to be paranoid than indifferent, because the paranoid mom will be right once in a while.” But what if i’m reacting to something that really is nothing? And now that everything is different post-fontan...

What if i’m brushing off all these things, and they actually are something... but “i’ve seen him worse, so, meh.”

Sometimes, I don’t know how to tell anymore.

On the other hand, i’m tired. Maybe some rest. Or better (and more realistically) yet...

Caffeine!!!!

(have i mentioned i’ve become hooked on lattes?? It’s true.)