The one where Lu has a baby and Sean wrecks a car...

Yes, all at the same time. That's so not the phone call you want to get from one child when you're in the delivery room with the other child. But let's start from the beginning.

On Sunday, the 17th of July, Luke and I painted the master bedroom blue w/brown polka dots to match the nursery stuff they'd got for baby Dylan. Lu kind of helped, but mostly just watched. I know we were late getting to it, but if you read this blog regularly- you know things have been crazy busy. We were moving into Lu's old room so they could have the larger room w/space for the crib. (It also has an attached bathroom which enables them to stay in their room at night when the baby wakes up- thus creating less noise and more sleep for grandma & grandpa). It turned out beautifully!

About four o'clock Lu started having contractions. She'd had some off and on for the last week but they never got regular. Well, these ones didn't either. Some were 3 minutes apart, some 10, and so on. So we decided just to go to bed. I told her if it was real labor, they'd wake her up and told her to wake me up if she needed anything in the night. We got up Monday and she said they'd kept her awake most of the night, but they still weren't regular. So we started moving stuff into their room and Luke put the crib and changing table together (let me just say here that the rest of my house looked like a hoarder's paradise because we'd moved our things out, but not into Lu's old room because I wanted to shampoo our disgustingly old carpets. So we had no less than three dressers in the living room along with a king size mattress). At 11am Lu's contractions started coming every 3 minutes. So she took a shower. And then I did. And then she refused to go to the hospital until the room was finished. That's my Lu!

We finally got to the hospital around 3:15 Monday afternoon. She was dilated to a 4 and 75% effaced. They told us that first time mothers have to thin all the way before the dilating really gets going. They hooked her up to monitors, she filled out a million pieces of paperwork and at 5 the doctor came in to break her water. As anyone who's ever had a baby will tell you- that's when the contractions get more painful. Lu had decided she wanted a drug free birth, no painkillers, no epidural. She was getting more and more uncomfortable and having a load of back labor. The nurse showed us a more comfortable position and how I could press on her back to offer some relief. I was in charge of back pain relief while Luke held her hand and tried to help her stay strong and calm.

Breathing through a contraction

About 7pm she got to get into a whirlpool tub (where the hell was that when I was in labor??). It helped with the pain alot and she stayed in there for an hour. By this time, contractions were much stronger and she debated on a painkiller shot. Luke and I both told her it was her decision. The nurse checked again and 8pm she had completely thinned out and dilated to a 6. Things were moving rapidly. Back in bed, the pain was worse, much worse and I called the nurse back in at 8:30. She had dilated to an 8! 2 centimeters in half an hour! The nurse explained that that was why the contractions were so strong and close together, because she was having a lot of rapid movement in the cervix. We asked for a shot of Nubain (a mild painkiller). Lu had debated on an epidural but decided against it and by then it was too late anyway. The next hour and a half were filled with more strong contractions, but thankfully the tiny shot had helped take the edge off. The nurse came in at 10:45 and asked Lu if she was beginning to push during contractions. Lu told her she couldn't help it. The nurse checked and she was dilated to 10 and completely thinned! Time to push! The nurse called the doctor who didn't believe Lu was already ready to push. She thought the pushing would take longer.

Luke decided he'd stay by Lu's head and I'd be the one holding her leg and seeing the birth. And what a sight to see. The doctor barely arrived in time. Lu only pushed for 18 minutes and part of that time was the nurses telling her not to push because we had to wait for the doctor and them trying to keep the baby's head in the canal! Lu was a trooper and baby Dylan was born at 11:16pm on July 18, 2011. He weighed 7lbs 10 oz and was 19 inches long. Lu had no ripping or tearing or bruising. Unbelievable.

!

Baby Dylan♥

I've never been on that end of the birthing before and it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. Luke and I both cried at the absolute awesomeness of the miracle of birth. And I'm so proud of Lu for sticking to her guns and pushing through the pain to have the birth she wanted. The nurses were amazed too and kept praising her.

The very next morning she was up and about, showering and even wearing makeup. That's my Lu!

The very next morning!

Both mother and baby are doing great a week and a half later. In fact Dylan has already surpassed his birth weight and is up to 7lbs 14 oz. He's thriving. And he's a super chill baby that doesn't cry or fuss much at all. He doesn't enjoy diaper changes or being really hungry, but other than that he's a quiet happy baby who seems to really take in his surroundings. He loves to be talked and sung too. And yes, I am a very proud grandma!

Sleepy baby & sleepy mommy

What a cutie, frowny face and all!

Now for the other child...

Sean has been working for Camp Callahan again this year and feels his responsibilities keenly. He knew Lu was in labor but couldn't get away until he'd gotten his campers to bed. So he was headed to the hospital at 10pm that night. We'd told him to drive Lu's car because he had a taillight out on his truck and we didn't want him to get a ticket. He called me at 10:45pm to tell me he'd had an accident and was pretty sure he'd totaled Lu's car. He tried to give me details but he was shaken up and hard to understand and Lu was starting to push! So I told him to call his Dad (who was in the waiting room, not in the thick of things!). It seems he was going way to fast on the little blacktop road that runs from our gravel to the highway. He was trying to make it to the hospital in time. Apparently Lu's headlights aren't that great and it was a dark night. Somehow, he managed to miss the stop sign that is where the blacktop meets the highway. He ended up flying across the highway and up a 5ft embankment, coming to rest in the yard of the house that sits there. 6 inches to the left and he would have hit a tree. Another foot and he'd have hit the water meter. I have no idea how he did it.

In typical Sean fashion though, he knocked on the door and told the girl who answered he'd parked his car in their yard and could he borrow her cell phone? Apparently his was dead. After he called us, he sat on the porch with the girl (the house owner's girlfriend. the house owner wasn't home). He had a first aid kit in his bag which he used to bandage his hand- it had gotten bruised and burned by the airbag. (Thankfully that was his only injury) He also had oatmeal cookies and Gatorade which he shared with her. He ended up getting a ticket for "failure to reduce speed to avoid an accident". He could have ended up with three tickets and a suspended license. We are still waiting to see if the insurance company totals Lu's car or fixes it again. Sean's insurance just went way up, I have no doubt.

Lucky for Sean, we all had something to distract us, so he didn't get in to too much trouble.

Uncle Sean

What a night! Here's a few more of my favorite pictures:

Happy Family♥

Could they be more beautiful?!

Grandpa & Dylan

Isn't life grand?

♥Spot

The one where we change rooms...

We made it to intermediate care!! Room 3410 for anyone who still wants to send an ecard. Last night was a rough one. He was running a fever again and was super restless. When you're the ice chip giver and your patient keeps waking up with a sore throat, well you aren't going to get a lot of sleep. There was also the worry and the steady stream of vitals checks.

This morning was rough. I started it by missing the Surgeon's visit. Can you believe I slept right through it?? He was standing 3 ft from me! He woke Mike up but not me. I'm sure he thinks I'm a pest with my gazillion questions. But if it weren't for my perseverance, he would never have gotten the breathing treatments that now make it easier for him to breathe. Then his Internist came in. He mentioned yesterday that I was the "chest x-ray girl" because I always ask about them. Well, pneumonia is a big fear. So today he checked them BEFORE he came in. He's learning. He ordered a CT scan to check things out because of the fever.

After he left, I noticed that the stuff coming through Mike's NG tube (the one that runs from stomach to nose and sucks out the stuff in your stomach) wasn't algae green like usual, but brown. When I looked closer I saw some bright red blood. Can I just tell you how badly that freaked me out?! I immediately got Bertha (the amazing super nurse) and the CT got upgraded to "stat". Luckily, the results came back okay, except for increased swelling and fluid in the left lung. Which is likely the cause of the fever. The doctor decided it would be safe to move Mike to IMC and before too long we were ensconced in our new room, on a new floor. It's a step down from ICU, a step up from a regular hospital floor. It's much bigger (he has to have private because of the compromised immune system). I now have a fold out couch to sleep on and we have a private bath (haha that only I use). It seems like the Hilton compared to what we had in ICU.

He got to lose the NG tube and is now on a clear fluid diet which means Jell-o. Lemon at that. He ate four bites. He also got rid of the catheter. He got up and sat in a recliner for 45 minutes and also walked about 10 steps. He has to be supported on both sides of course, but this is still progress. Also, he's now helping them to roll him over and change positions in his bed, he's no longer just dead weight. He was much more himself today, joking with the nurses, and Hildi. The nurses love him because he will try whatever they ask and is so laid back. They even told him how proud they are of him.

His Internist caught up with me in the hallway this morning and said~

Dr: Honey, you need to go home and get some sleep.

Me: I will. When he's better.

Dr: Don't you have a day job?

Me: (laughing) No. I'm a freelance writer and fiction writer. I have my laptop here and I work after everyone leaves and he falls asleep. I do think I might not make the deadline to get my novel to the editor now though.

Dr: A novel? What's it about?

Me: Well, it's a horror novel set in rural Illinois. About a family who moves from Chicago to the wrong town. It has to do with the Pied Piper fairy tale.

Dr: I know someone famous!

Me: Um. I doubt I'll be famous, but if I do get famous, I'll totally mention your name.

How am I holding up? I'm frazzled. I'm tired, I'm still worried and sometimes the close call takes my breath away. But I'm holding it together. I have the most wonderful support system. I did cry today, but it was tears of relief when the CT scans did NOT show some new horrible thing to deal with. And I cry every time my husband pulls my head down to his chest and rests his hands (poor slashed up sutured hands) in my hair. I know that he's trying to give me strength. But all I can think is how close I came to losing him. And how much I took him for granted before the accident. And how lost I'd be without him.

As we left ICU today, amidst hugs and promises to stop by and check on him, our "super nurse" Bertha told us it had been a pleasure to meet and work with us. That it was quite obvious how much we loved each other and our kids. That we had a great family. And you know what? We do.

Goodnight all,
♥Spot

PS- thank you again for everything. The cards, comments, ect really make our day. You all are our wonderful support system. I hope all my blogbuds will forgive me for not making it to their posts to comment. I would love to catch up as soon as I can.

The one where we almost get to leave ICU...

Sorry I didn't blog yesterday, but honestly, I was so exhausted that I started to doze off while writing my facebook update. My hands kept going though and typing random letters. It was weird. Mike said just to type "still alive" and let it go, but I know people would like more than that. Again thank you for all of the well-wishes, offers of prayers and support. It is helping just to know you care. I read Mike all the wonderful wall posts and comments on Facebook and the comments on the blog. I know he appreciates them.

Last night was our first really good night. Mike slept through the whole night. Which means I got some much needed rest as well. He awoke in good spirits and looking better. Some of the facial swelling has gone down and the bruises and abrasions are looking better. He still looks like hell, but compared to Friday night, he looks great.

His hemoglobin is rising, so the theory is that the adrenal laceration has clotted itself and no surgery is required. They told him he could try getting out of bed today. Moving around will help in so many ways! About 11, he fell in to a very deep sleep. Nothing woke him. In fact, the nurse had to yell to get him to wake up. At first we thought it was the pain shot he'd gotten. He managed to get up and then sit in a recliner by the bed. But he just seemed off to me. Very quiet and withdrawn. He said he had no energy. It was because he had spiked a fever again. The order for room transfer was scrapped and we remain in the ICU battling what could be an infection. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how serious that could be for someone who just lost their spleen. And so, I will again be keeping the midnight vigil. Monitoring his vitals and his fever. And hoping that it's not serious.

Some days it feels like he comes one step forward and then we take one step back. I know that he will recover. I know that he will survive. But we have a long road ahead of us.

Hildi is coming tomorrow and I can't wait. It will be so good to have her here for a bit. The kids are holding up well. I'm not sure what I'd do without them. I am getting tired of sharing a restroom with 50,000 strangers. Um. Ew. But the shower room is not so bad. Especially when our favorite nurse tells housekeeping to clean it for me and there's hot water. But of course, I won't leave him and go home. So I just tell myself "it's like camping, right?"

On watch again,
♥Spot

Sorry this was short, but I'm exhausted!
Here is a link where you can send Mike and e-card and the hospital will print it out and give it to us. http://www.blessinghospital.org/egreeting

The one where we have a rough night...

Again I'm sitting here on the wrong side of midnight, keeping vigil. Tonight he is resting well, finally comfortable. I am watching the monitors which tell me his vital signs. I have learned what every line, every abbreviation means and what the allowable deviations are. Currently, they are all looking good. But I'm waiting on the Doctor's call about lab results we just received. You see, last night was not so peaceful.

Last night was rough. His breathing was very labored. His oxygen sats were low. His heart rate was way above where it should be and he was complaining of pain in his back. The nurse was worried about a possible heart problem. She kept the vigil from her station (right outside his room, she can see everything from her window into his room). Around four AM I finally dozed off. I was awakened by a sound I couldn't place. It was wheezing. I got up and put my head closer to his mouth to listen. Sure enough, I heard the tell tale sound. Wheezing and I are old enemies. But I'd only once before heard him wheeze. I checked his forehead. Yep, running a fever. I poked my head out the door and conferred with the nurse. I suggested that perhaps the back pain was pleurisy. She took his temp. 101.6- not good. She called the doctor. They administered Tylenol in a most unconventional way. They also took blood and did a chest xray. The xray showed some possible lung congestion. He was switched to a broader spectrum antibiotic. That seems to be working.

Unfortunately, the labs told a story of their own. His hemoglobin had dropped overnight. Not in a severe range, but not good. The surgeon ordered a an abdominal ct scan. The scan showed that one of his adrenals had been nicked in the crash. It was still bleeding a bit. A urologist was called in. He wants to wait and see if the nick will clot on it's own so they don't need to do further surgery. He has labs drawn every six hours and reported to the doctor. His hemoglobin continues to drop. He is also now confined to bed. No more trying to get him up. He will be in ICU for several more days.

His arm was unwrapped today. I was mistaken on the sutures. They used surgical staples. 53 of them in his arm and shoulder. The palm of his left hand and fingers have regular sutures. Lots of them. The chest tube is bothering him. We found tons of new bruises today. The pain is still bad.

The midnight labs are back, the numbers are still dropping. A call to the doctor calls for a transfusion of blood. He sleeps on and for that I am thankful. I will explain when he wakes up.

I must give a special thank you to all of the doctors and nurses we have had. His surgeon is amazing and doesn't mind hugs. His nurses have been caring and compassionate and on top of things. The nursing supervisor for tonight rocks my socks. She got me a chair that actually lays down. I may get some sleep tonight after all. I'm going to include a couple of pictures of the truck he was in, so you can see how lucky he is to still be alive.







Thank you all,
♥Spot

The one where I almost lose my best friend, my love, my husband...

"How can you stand to just sit here and watch him breathe?" a tearful Lu asked me earlier this evening. Her father was lying in his hospital bed not a foot from where she sat, perched on my lap. His breathing was labored and shallow due to the lung that had been collapsed, the chest tube, and the broken ribs. The severe pain also hampered it. My only answer was "because I have to". How do I explain to her, my still so young daughter, that it's my sacred duty. How to describe for her the vigilance that's based on the absurd thought that by sheer force of will, I can keep him breathing? The fear that if I look away for just a minute, his chest will fail to rise and the monitors will begin that ceaseless bleating.

As I sat alone last night, in the post midnight quiet, it all overcame me. The phone call from the neighbor telling me about the accident, the mad rush to the hospital, the countless phone calls to family and friends, the illegal rush into an ER trauma room, the agonizing hours he was in surgery, and the relief that he came through alright, the calm demeanor that had held me through those things dissolved. And silent tears ran down my cheeks as I held my husband's hand and thanked whatever powers that be that he was still with me. I watched the rise and fall of his chest. Kept a close eye on the monitor where the data from a myriad of tubes and cuffs and wires printed out. And it occurred to me that this same scene was being played out in countless hospital rooms across the globe. I was not alone in my vigil. Not alone in my hope, fears, or irrational phobias. And again, I counted my blessings that we had been so lucky. That while he was still in danger of infection or pneumonia, he was whole and in one piece (give or take a spleen and some skin). And he will recover and I will get to spend the rest of our life together letting him know how much he means to me.

You see, that's what popped into my head on the way to the hospital. Why am I so mean? Why is the garbage that big of a deal? Or the fact that he forgets to do tasks I ask of him. Really? In the grand scheme of things, what more are these than minor annoyances? Why should I let them color our lives so? When faced with the all too real prospect of losing my best friend, they seem so small and petty. And I fervently hope, that after this reminder, I will never let it play so much a part of our lives again. And we will honor the rule we made a long time ago, that you never leave the house in anger or after harsh words are spoken. Because you never know. And I know how relieved I was that the last words I'd said before he left were "Drive safe. I love you."


***For those of you who don't know...my husband left our house Friday evening to make a trip to Lowe's in town. As he slowed to make a right hand turn off the blacktop, another pick up truck, travelling at a high rate of speed, ignored (? missed? blew through?) the stop sign and slammed into his drivers side door. My husband's truck was propelled headfirst into a telephone pole, then impacted once more near the back of the bed. The other truck rolled several times. As it happened on a country blacktop, there were no witnesses, no one around. The impact was heard for miles. Everyone (or so I hear) with houses near the intersection and the nearby town headed to the scene. My husband was trapped in his truck while rescue workers tried to get him free. He was then helicoptered to the nearest city. A neighbor called and told me there had been an accident and they were taking him to the hospital. I have never been so scared in my entire life. I made a mad dash to the hospital, phoning family on the way.

When I finally arrived at the ER, husband's mother, stepfather, sisters, brother and Lu were already there. They were in a family room because the hospital wouldn't let them in the trauma room. I made an illegal dash through the doors, nearly mowed down a priest, and got to his side. It was gruesome. I only got to tell him I was there and that I loved him before they whisked him away to CT scan. I was literally shaking from head to toe. After CT, emergency surgery was performed. Another agonizing three hour wait. He had a collapsed lung, three broken ribs, a completely demolished spleen, internal bleeding and severe and numerous lacerations. They put a chest tube in his lung to re inflate and keep it re inflated. The spleen was removed, the bleeding stopped and over a hundred stitches put in his left arm. He was given two units of blood. No bones were broken.

Today, he is still in ICU. He's in a major amount of pain. He runs a risk of infection and pneumonia. He is battered and bruised. But I have seen the pictures of his truck. He is lucky to be alive at all. It took hours for them to clean up the scene of the accident. The only part of his truck that still looks undamaged is the passenger door, the one they had to finally take him out through. The other driver was not so lucky. He was not wearing a seat belt and was ejected from his vehicle. He did not survive.

We have had an overwhelming wave of support, offers of everything, prayers, food, cards sent our way by family, friends and people we don't even know well. My husband apparently impacts way more lives than he knows. And even the kids have been overwhelmed with friend's and acquaintance's outpouring of love and sympathy. We thank everyone so much for everything they've done and for reaching out to us. Please spare some prayers for the other driver's family. He was at fault, but paid a high price and I sympathize with his family.

If you guys could send us positive thoughts, him to heal quickly and well, me strength to keep my vigil and my sanity, it would be greatly appreciated.

from the wrong side of midnight,
♥Spot

And sometimes bad things happen...

So this last week has been rough. I say rough instead of sucked the proverbial monkey balls because things could have been worse. The feeling at my house is "if the police didn't come and nobody died" it really wasn't that bad. Being sick has sucked but it's not that unusual for me. I wasn't life or death sick, just sick enough to be listless and irritable. Then on Thursday, Sean had an accident on his way to his Civil Air Patrol meeting.

It's an hour's drive from our house to where the meetings are held. He stops in the town half an hour away to either meet or ride with his friends. Sometimes the one guys dad drives, or the guy drives, sometimes Sean drives. Well, this time Sean was driving. And he was driving my car because it gets better gas mileage than his truck. The exit he takes comes down into a double left turn lane. He pulled into the farthest left lane and stopped at the light. A semi driver, with a double trailer, pulled into the lane next to him. He was on his cell phone. The semi driver changed lanes in the middle of the intersection. Sean managed to slow, but was forced into oncoming traffic. Luckily, he didn't collide with the oncoming traffic. However, the last set of tires on the last trailer of the semi clipped the front of my car. The semi driver did not even get out of his cab or get off his phone. He yelled and asked if Sean and the other boy were alright. Then he drove off!! It being Sean's first accident, he wasn't thinking clearly enough to get the guys license plate number or name of the trucking company. Or insist that they call the police. But luckily, he and his friend were unharmed and the car is driveable. There is some body damage though. But all in all, it could have been way worse. And the damage to my kid would have been far worse than any damage to my vehicle.

The second bit of not-good-ness happened Sunday/Monday. Sean has been my company/getter of everything I need while I've been ill. He's watched a massive amount of weird TV shows with me. Made many many glasses of something to drink. Fetched everything from my book, to tissues, to my favorite blanket. He started coughing Sunday. At first, I thought it was just his asthma acting up because he forgot to get one of his meds refilled. Yesterday, he woke up with a fever and a headache and a worse cough. Did I mention he gets pneumonia at least as often as I do? Luckily, because I went to the doctor already (oh yeah, the dr. says I have pneumonia, color me surprised!) and because of his history with it, they just went ahead and called his meds in so we don't have to go back. So now we're sickies together. Talk about your quality time...it's a wonder we haven't killed each other yet...

But all of this is small beans compared to what comes next. On Friday night I got a call from my aunt. She said that grandma had been admitted to the hospital because her red blood count was low and they were giving her transfusions. She gave me some values for the count but that was really all she knew. She hadn't been able to get ahold of my folks. So I said I would call them. They were at Hildi's in Ohio. I called and talked to my dad. I said that the values she gave me didn't make sense for your red blood count (I'm familiar with blood count values thanks to Lu's disorder). But my aunt has untreated fibromyalgia and can be a little spacey. My mom called my uncle, but well, mom can be kind of spacey too and all she got out of the conversation was that grandma was in stable condition. The next morning I called my SIL, who's an RN. She said that they must mean her hemoglobin was low and yes, they would transfuse at that value. Now the doctors would have to find out where she was losing the blood from or what was causing the drop. Grandma had been diagnosed with chronic leukemia several months ago and so we thought maybe it had to do with that. My SIL gave me strict orders not to visit the hospital with my pneumonia and if I was running a temp bc my grandma's immunity is shot. So I stayed home.

My folks hightailed it home from Hildi's on Saturday. They said they would be at the hospital on Sunday. I asked them to call me from there and let me know what was up. I was still running a fever. All I got Sunday was a text from my mom saying that grandma looked pretty much the same as she had been and they didn't have any new info. I relaxed. Yesterday, Hildi texted me and asked if I knew where the heck Mom & Dad were. She'd called their house and gotten no answer and they weren't answering their phones. None of that is unusual. I said no, but I was a little miffed that I couldn't get a phone call from them the day before while they were at the hospital. She said she'd requested one as well. She didn't even get the text. We were texting back and forth when she stopped texting. Again, not unusual because she has small children. Then the phone rang and I saw my Dad's cell number. I thought he was calling to check on me. (Selfish, no?) But the tone of my Dad's voice put me on instant alert. They were at the hospital. They'd found tumors in my grandmother's pancreas, gallbladder and liver. She is not a candidate for surgery due to health concerns. They are doing a liver biopsy (needle) today to be absolutely certain, but they are 95% sure the type and aggressiveness of the cancer. The recommendation is hospice care. No prolonging measures. The prognosis is for weeks, maybe months. But the goal is only to make her comfortable and pain free.

This is my mother's mother. My father's mother passed away when I was thirteen. Breast cancer. But my father and mother have been married for 43 years. He loves my grandmother like he did his own. He was in tears. I've only seen my big strong Daddy cry twice. Once, when his mother died. And the night my sister got married. (Of course, he was way drunk then). I cried too. My grandmother and I have been very close. I was the first grandchild. But I immediately asked if he talked to Hildi yet. He had. But she was home alone with the kids, her hubby at work. I called her immediately. She was doing okay. She'd called her hubby and he came home from work. The girls were patting her back and stroking her hair. But she was frantically trying to figure out whether she should come right away or wait. And if she came, how would she manage it. Her oldest daughter can't miss any more school. What would she do with the youngest if she brought her? We figured most of it out, but she's waiting for the needle biopsy results that we'll have on Wednesday to make a final decision. My father implored me to stay home one more day and give my meds time to work. So I won't be going to the hospital until tomorrow.

The only bright spot in all of this, is that my grandma has dementia. She's not really lucid a lot of the time and I have to think this is a blessing. She doesn't comprehend that she's got cancer. She continually asks why she's in the hospital. And so she doesn't know what she's in for. I can't help that think that's a good thing. You can't fear the reaper if you don't know he's coming.

I'm sorry this has been such a downer post. But it's been a downer week...

♥Spot