Check Up

I know I have said it before but let me repeat... Elijah is amazing. Brave. Strong. We had our cardio check-up today. These are incredibly long, tiring, and often frightening days. It's not just the doctor's exam. It's the X-ray. It's the echo. It's the vitals. And the EKG. and let's not forget about the waiting. For hours we wait. And through all of that Elijah was a trooper. And you know what? He is doing great! The doctor was impressed by his attitude and his strength even so far as to tell us that he believes that this is the strongest he has seen Elijah. 

Elijah is in the 5th percentile for weight and on the chart, barely, for height. His echo looked good and his pulses were great. His pulse ox continues to read between 82-84 and his lungs are clear. It was a good day. Dr. Sklansky wants us to return in March for another check up and Elijah will most likely have a cath in April or May. We are looking at having the Fontan in the summer, although that depends on his growth and the opinions of Dr. Sklansky and the CHLA doctors. 

All I know is that I have already gotten a great Christmas present (besides the iPad my mom bought me 😉). My baby is doing well, thriving actually. And in truth, that is all I need. 

So So Long

I guess in this world, no news is good news! I made it a goal to update this blog over Thanksgiving. It has been so long. We had a great, although short, summer. The boys got to explore and travel a little. I got a promotion to Assistant Principal. That has been an adjustment, but overall the boys have handled the new routine well. Elijah, except for a few colds, has been well. They are projecting his Fontan, the last of the three stages, to take place in the Spring or Summer. I dread even thinking about it. He is active, vibrant, and feisty. This kid knows his mind and isn't afraid to tell you. He is currently throwing a ball at me and telling me that he is going to "play basketball and then football." He is amazing.

Home sweet home!

I realized, after a friend pointed it out, that I had not updated the blog to let everyone know that Elijah came home. We had an intense, but short stay at CHLA. Elijah did not like staying the night and he gave Dion a really hard time. No one slept. But once the doctors came by and did their rounds in the morning, they gave us permission to leave! Elijah is doing well, although I am a little unsettled by his breathing. He still pants when he moves around and I thought that would be better after the cath. Hopefully it is just a side effect of being intubated and it will get better with time. We have a follow up appointment with Dr. Sklansky tomorrow. Wish us luck!

Post Cath

Elijah is out of the recovery room and in his room. He is sleeping comfortably. They ballooned his stent and coiled quite a few collateral arteries. For some reason his body fights the coils and figures out how to go around the coils, so they had to add coils to arteries they had already done in the past. He still has a bunch of collaterals, most of which are too small to coil. The doctor described them as a nest. Elijah has a major one that is also supplying blood to his stomach, therefore it can't be coiled. Overall, it seems like things went well and we are on a positive path. His pressures were good and he still looks like a Fontan candidate.

Pray for a good night and discharge tomorrow!

Cath Lab

I hate days like this. I hate getting my baby up in the middle of the night. I hate driving in the dark to the hospital while he cries in the backseat. I hate going to admissions and signing all the paperwork. I hate the multiple waiting rooms they filter you through as they get vitals and ask the same questions over and over again. I hate trying to keep a scared little toddler distracted. I hate trying to smile through everything I hate so that the scared little toddler thinks everything is okay.  I hate taking him to the surgery room and handing him off to the nurses. I hate waiting in a silent room for someone to come in and give me an update. Ugh.

And yet through all of my hate, I do smile. I do laugh and play and sing. I do because I have to. Because that is what that little boy needs. But man oh man is it hard. Please keep our little boy in your prayers today. He went into the cath lab about 20 min ago (7:30am) and he will most likely be there for the next 7 hours or so. He will be spending the night at CHLA.

May Fun!

As the weather gets better (was it every really bad???) we find ourselves out and about a lot. This month has been full of weekend festivals and backyard fun. Elijah has definitely come into his own and has a great personality. He adores Noah and follows him everywhere. Elijah has no idea that he is not a "big boy" like Noah. Elijah now goes to school with Noah and the teachers report that Elijah is fitting in very well. However, he is constantly harassing Noah. I guess that is what little brothers are for!

Noah played on his first T-ball team. He liked the game, but not the amount of time it took to play. I think Dion and I have decided to let sports wait for a few years. When they are only four, they lack the maturity and stamina to play a two hour (yes that's right) game. Elijah hated every minute of baseball because he did not understand why he wasn't allowed on the field with his brother and his dad. Yet another reason to wait a few years.

Elijah had his first holter monitor a few weeks ago. Although not a painful thing, it was really annoying. For those of you who do not know, a holter monitor consists of little sensors that attach all over your chest or back. The sensors are attached wires that connect to a small machine that records your heartbeat for 24 hours. Keeping that thing on a two year old is a feat in and of itself. We visit the cardiologist next month, so hopefully we will hear the results of the test then. At his last appointment, the doctor was concerned that his heart wasn't beating as fast as it should have been considering that he was crying. Hopefully that was just a fluke.

Elijah goes in for another cath on June 12th. I'm hoping everything is fine, but I have a feeling that they will need to coil a few more arteries. His breathing has been fast and heavy. I think they will also need to expand his stent a little.  If everything checks out between the holter monitor results and the results of the cath, we should be waiting until next spring/summer for the Fontan. Keep the prayers coming!

Fontan Postponed

For the last year or so the plan has been for Elijah to have his third open-heart surgery, the Fontan, this fall. We were all set to have a cath in June to prepare for the surgery. Monica was going to come and stay with us again and we were ready.  I should know by now that in the world of HLHS nothing is certain

A couple of weeks ago I got a call from Dr. Sklansky, Elijah’s fantastic cardiologist. He had seen Elijah the day before and the visit was very positive. Elijah’s sats looked good and he was continuing to gain weight. His echo was the same. Dion and Dr. Sklansky discussed the plan of action and we were ready. However, after consulting with the cardiologist at CHLA, Dr. Sklansky called me. It seems that the doctor at CHLA wants to wait a year before the Fontan.  Dr. Sklansky discussed his opinion about waiting and it seemed that he still wanted to continue with the original plan, but with the surgery happening at CHLA, it was ultimately up to them.

I have to say that the great thing about all of the doctors we work with is their openness and availability to the parents of their patients. After I talked with Dr. Sklansky, I emailed the doctor at CHLA with a list of questions and concerns. She replied immediately. She looked at his previous tests and concluded that it would be in Elijah’s best interest to wait. As he grows, his pulmonary arteries continue to grow distal branches which improves overall pulmonary vasculature. The Fontan relies on this and this may allow him to get a larger conduit. Waiting will also allow for him to gain some weight which can make for better post-op results. All of this to say that we will most likely be waiting until next summer for his Fontan. However, Elijah will be going in for another cath in June to evaluate and possibly dilate his stent.

I have mixed emotions about waiting. I am happy that this summer my little boy won’t be going through all that open heart surgery brings. However, there was a part of me that was looking forward to the freedom that the Fontan is suppose to bring. I have been dreading the Fontan for so long that there was a part of me that just wanted to get it over with so that we could move forward. However, I know that waiting is the best decision for Elijah. He is stable, growing, and happy right now. The longer we can keep him that way, the better.

Life Lessons... Painful though they be...

These are the moments in life that you will never forget, for better, or for worse. Elijah turned two years old last week. This is such an exciting time for him and for us. We have been looking forward to the day he turns two for the obvious reasons, but also because when he turns two, he is old enough to attend Noah’s preschool. Noah has been talking about this for months. Noah is so excited to have his baby brother at his school. Elijah adores his big brother and both Dion and I believe that Elijah will be much happier at school if his brother is there.

That having been said, having Elijah attend Noah’s school was easier said than done. I forget that people, not all people, are scared of little boys like Elijah. I guess I am so used to him that I forget that people may not be as inclined to work with a child like Elijah. That they may fear him simply because he is not like everyone else. That they see the scare down his chest as a sign of weakness, not a battle scar that should be warn proudly. They lack understanding, and instead of asking for the knowledge in order to understand, they judge and make up excuses. I forget these things sometimes and when they are shoved in my face I am so shocked, and hurt, that I retreat.

While I was fully prepared to get on this blog and blast the woman who made our lives that much harder last week, I am taking a different path. I am trying to be empathetic and understanding that this person who caused my family heartache is from a different generation and she acted out of fear. I need to learn to speak out and be aggressive in situations like this. I was so blindsided and I allowed myself to get run over. I didn’t speak out until it was almost to late. I need to know that this will happen again and that it is my duty, my charge, to be Elijah’s voice and to teach him that it is okay to have a voice himself. So instead of blasting a poor older woman who really just doesn’t know better, I am going to take this as a learning lesson. I am going to be the voice for my child.

Synagist

We have had a good couple of months. At times, we have forgotten that our little guy is even sick. He goes to preschool, plays with his brother, fights with his brother, and giggles like nobody else. However, it's days like today, that I am reminded. Every month during the flu season Elijah gets a shot called synagist. This shot is a vaccine that prevents a severe lung disease called RSV. This is a fairly common disease during the winter that in little guys like Elijah can be deadly. So once a month, every month, we drive to Healthcare Partners in Granada Hills and get his shot. It doesn't sound that bad, right. It's awful. Dion has been taking him for the past few months, but I got the luxury of taking him today.

We pulled up and got out of the car. As we entered the building, Elijah's demeanor started to change. When we got on the elevator, he curled up to me like he was frightened. People on the elevator tried to talk to him, but he just put his head down. Once we got into the waiting room he started to fuss. I pulled out the iphone and let him play a game. This helped distract him. Once we got called into the room, all hell broke lose. Just walking into the room set off uncontrollable tears. He didn't want to let go of me and he wanted nothing to do with the nurses. He cried the entire time, but he cried the most heart wrenching tears when the nurse who eventually gave him his shot came into the room. Those tears were from his gut. He recognized her. He knew that she was going to hurt him. My heart broke. Here I was, doing something that I know rationally is best for my son, but I also know that it will hurt. And I know that he is scared. And I know that I am the one bringing him that pain and that fear. I am suppose to be the one kissing the boo boos, not causing them. I should be the one wrapping him in my arms and running away from pain, not toward it. It's one thing to take your child to his periodic vaccine appointments. They don't understand what is happening and it only happens maybe once a year. It's an entirely different thing when your child knows the pain they are about to feel and the fear is tangible. All I know is that if this is a preview of what is to come with the Fontan, I am in trouble. I like to think that I am strong enough... that I can be the rock, the foundation. But I just don't know. You would think, after all we have been through that a little shot is nothing. It should have been nothing. But it wasn't. Today kinda rocked my world and not in a good way.

I try to end these posts on a positive note, but today I got nothing. Nothing except for the fact that Elijah is doing well and laying on me tonight and watch his favorite show Yo Gabba Gabba (otherwise known as baby crack). I am once again reminded to live in the moment. Not the past and not the future, but the moment.

UCLA Pediatric Heart Center

When we first started down this CHD path, we immersed ourselves in research. Many of you remember when we had to decide who our surgeon and cardiologist would be. It felt like a life or death decision. And it very well may have been. In the end, after looking at data, talking with parents, and consulting with doctors we decided that Dr. Starnes at Children’s Hospital would be Elijah’s surgeon. But we were still left with the decision of a cardiologist.  We were overwhelmed with all of the information and details and neither Dion nor I were prepared to make that decision at that time.

It wasn’t until after Elijah was born and had survived the Norwood that we made that choice. We called Dr. Sklansky and humbly asked if he would be Elijah’s cardiologist. Now mind you, Dr. Sklansky is an incredibly busy man who runs pediatric cardiology at UCLA. As in this man is the man. The man.  Everyone at CHLA loves him and there was not a person there that was not sorry that he left. When we went to Dr. Sklansky for our consult before Elijah was born, he treated us, Dion and I, like humans. Like parents grieving the loss of the child they thought they had. And he prepared us for Elijah. For the sweet little baby with half a heart.  He sat with us for hours when I was pregnant making sure that we understood what was happening.  We wanted Dr. Sklansky.  And Dr. Sklansky responded in kind. I remember that phone call. Dr. Sklansky was happy to be Elijah’s cardiologist and he was honored that we had chosen him. You need to understand that this man is amazing. He is perhaps the best cardiologist on the west coast (I know I know I know, I may be a little bias).  And he was honored to be Elijah’s cardiologist. I have never met a more humble, kind, brilliant man.

The point of this post isn’t just to sing the praises of Dr. Sklansky, although those praises are deserved. The point of this post is to celebrate. A couple of days ago Dr. Sklansky called and invited our family to the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new pediatric heart center at UCLA.  This has been a very long time coming. You see, before the new center, you had to travel all over the hospital for all of your different procedures and appointments. This meant coming into contact with all kind germs and very, very long appointment days. Under Dr. Sklansky’s inspiration and vision, they have renovated and created a “one stop shop” for children with CHDs.  The place is awesome.  We were honored to be a part of such an amazing event to celebrate such a needed facility. However, it isn’t the facility that makes the place what it is. It is the people. Dr. Sklansky, and our nurse Ashley, have been nothing short of a God send. We are incredibly blessed to have them in our lives guiding our son down this often scary and uncertain path.