Drastic Turn of Events

Mark went into respiratory failure today. He's in the ICU with a bipap machine on. It creates a vacuum seal over his face and creates differences in pressure levels that help him to breathe. His acid levels were extremely high when they found him unresponsive this morning just before nine o'clock.

Did my last post even mention that he was in the hospital? I think I skipped that part. I called an ambulance for him because his speech was slurred when he woke up, vomiting. He didn't have a stroke. Just the flu, they said, but he needs extra support at this point for something as "simple" as the flu, so they kept him overnight, but just in a regular room. I called about 8:35 this morning, and the nurse said, "Oh, yeah, he's doing fine. He had some vomiting in the night, but he's comfortable now and sleeping." So I went off to church. I was just finishing up a memory/sticker game of Noah's animals with my Sunday School kids when Jason appeared at the door of my classroom. The hospital, unable to reach me, had called him, but they wouldn't give him any more information than that he had taken a turn for the worse, that he was in the ICU, and that they wanted me to come in as soon as I could. Of course, I flew! But still it was nearly an hour before I could get there.

He is doing better and better. I am wary of being TOO confident. After all he was "just fine" at 8:35 and nearly dead by 9. But all the signs indicate that he is moving in the right direction. And he doesn't seem to have any brain damage, either, or at least nothing major, which is really rather amazing. Where we go from here, I don't know. The doc said that clearly he can't sleep with a breathing apparatus, ever, from here on out. And anything sedating (like narcotics or phenergan) are really risky. How we are going to treat the pain, I have no idea. But I'm trying not to look TOO far beyond the end of my nose tonight.

A Crazy Week

This week has been a bit nutty. On the downside, Mark has been in the hospital every other day, and Brendan's bout with the flu (while over now) was long and nasty. On the upside, we got a dog!! The church bought us a pure black cocker spaniel pup, only about 2 1/2 months old. I hadn't planned on a puppy because of all the extra work that's involved in training a puppy, but he is SO sweet. He is playful but mellow and SO affectionate. Everybody here is head over heels in love with him (and vice versa). He feels just like part of the family already. I'll post pictures of him later. I haven't got them onto the computer yet. But I just wanted to come in and update you all on what's been going on here. Below, rather than writing everything twice, I've copied most of an email that I wrote to a friend this morning:


Okay. Me, at last. I slept (on the living room floor--the mattress has a leak and really isn't worth blowing up anymore) until I had to wake the kids up for school, only to find that my automatic coffee maker was flaking off on its job and there was no coffee yet. Wincing against a headache, I started the coffee and took the dog out. It was raining, but I stood out there and said, "go potty" about 15 times. Finally brought him back in the house so that he could promptly poop on the kitchen floor... No sooner had I gotten the boys up, then Brendan started demanding coffee cake. Once informed that we didn't have time for that today, he sat down on the stairs and started shrieking at me. "I hate you!" I didn't have the energy to say more than, "That's nice." Got coffee for Mark (who still appears quite foggy), waffles for Brendan, peanut butter toast for Alex. Washed down Brendan's legs after HIS peeing accident. Took a shower. (Took the dog with me so that he wouldn't decorate my carpets while I was out of sight, but he couldn't see me behind the shower curtain and started wailing.) Got out, stuffed my bloated self into the only pair of (ripped) jeans in my drawer. (Is it time to do laundry already??) Hunted for socks for Brendan. (Can they possibly ALL be dirty??) Finally found a pair. Ran the boys to school. Came home. Popped some ibuprofen. Called the junior high to let them know that Kayte is home sick today. Took the dog out again. Praised him extensively when he produced poop ON THE LAWN!!! Came in, filled my coffee cup again, and ... voila! Home free ...

Actually, it's going to be a somewhat busy day. Mark (if he can) needs to go in and help set up 15 new computers at the church. And Brendan has his first soccer game at 5:00 tonight. (And soccer pictures at 9 a.m. tomorrow, and another game at 10:30.) And I need to edit a story for Perri. I feel terrible! She sent it to me several days ago, and I comPLETEly forgot. Then, while I was busy forgetting my friend, she got word from the agent who had requested her manuscript. It's a no go. The story is "too sad." That kind of makes me mad. Hello?!? It's about grief! And she does a fabulous job of instilling the hope of healing at the end, without being sappy in the least. It's a great book! And she's worked her tail off, in between a two hour commute (each way), a job with behaviorally challenged teens, three kids under 8, AND a farm! She gets about four hours of sleep a night--consistently! I feel like sending off a note to J. Weber to the effect of, "How DARE you do this to her?" But ... that's the way the game is played. And like I said to her: it's not a matter of whether the book is good. It's a matter of finding the right agent who will share her vision. And she'll find him/her, I'm sure. It just can be a long process sometimes. I just wish I hadn't spaced her story, this week of all weeks ... Bad, bad friend. Bad ... (slinking off to my "kennel" now ...)

Back with a new cup of hot coffee. Mmm ... What is it about coffee in your favorite mug that is so reassuring in the morning? (I think my coffee is like Alex's blue blanket, that he drags downstairs with him and often drapes over his head as he sits at the computer in the morning.)

So, about Mark ... I found out more yesterday about what had happened to Mark before I got to him on Tuesday. I guess he'd gotten worse in the ambulance. His heartbeat kept rising up until it was over 200 beats a minute, and they switched on the sirens and lights and went code three. Then when they got to the ER, he was surrounded with a whole bunch of nurses. They had to put in multiple lines in case they needed to push multiple meds. They almost put one in his neck! His veins are really scared, and he only has a few places left where they can still get a line. But thankfully they didn't have to resort to that. Dr. Rosoff asked, "So, tell me what you need." Mark told him what medication worked, what dosage, how fast to push it. Dr. R said, "You heard him, people. Do it. I'll put it in the computer." No wonder he was agitated when I got there!

Yesterday's "event" wasn't as big of a deal. I think Mark was just spooked. But he WAS having TERrible chest pain and his heart kept trying to kick into SVT. We called an ambulance again. As soon as they pulled out with him, I loaded the boys and the pup in the van and raced off to Brendan's soccer practice. Yes, I realize that seems heartless! but ... well, I've talked about this so many times before, the struggle between being there for Mark and allowing the kids to have as normal of a life as possible. And I'm glad I took Brendan to soccer practice because he had a BLAST! Then I took the dog home to his kennel, checked in with Kayte (whose team had creamed the opposition at their volleyball game), and took the boys over to Jason and Becca's. Then I went in to Newberg and found Mark a little agitated (not overly so) but physically stable. His triponin levels were up there, which indicates some damage to the heart (although mild), and his EKG showed some abnormalities. His ... dang. What is it called? Hematocrit. (Couldn't think of the word there for a bit) His hematocrit, which indicates the thickness of his blood, is off the chart. They can only measure up to 70%. It's somewhere above there. They have no way of knowing how high it actually is, but basically his heart is trying to push around sludge, which would explain why it is keeps flipping out! They were going to admit him, but the ER docs consulted with the OHSU docs and they decided to watch him for four hours and repeat the enzyme test. After four hours, his enzymes were gradually starting to decline, so they let him go. As I walked out to get the van, one of the nurses called out, "I'll see you tomorrow." Then we both laughed/groaned and said, in stereo, "I hope not!"

I met the sweetest little boy though yesterday. Actually, he was there with his two older sisters, but it was the little guy who stole my heart. He must have been about four. They were waiting in the lobby when I went to get some peanut M&M's from the vending machine. Their mom was in the ER, and they had nothing to do. One girl had her stuffed animal clutched to her chest, and one was leafing through a magazine, but they looked pretty bored. So I went out to the van and some books and games out of our hospital bag and brought them in for them to use. I squatted down and was talking to them when the little girl with the stuffed animal asked what was wrong with my husband. I said, "He has a bad heart." She said, "Oh, my brother had a hole in his heart." I said, "Really? Well, that's what wrong with my husband. But he was born a long time ago, before they could fix stuff like that so now he has a lot of problems." The little boy looked at me. "My name is ..." He started spelling in sign language. "C ... O ... L ..." I asked, "Is your name Cole?" Yes. He was SO adorable! I loaned him a dinosaur puzzle and went back to be with Mark. A couple of hours later, his dad had him return it because they were about to go home. I wouldn't have cared if he kept it! But the dad was clearly trying to teach him about sharing and returning other people's property so I didn't insist he keep it (even though I would have preferred that he keep it, just because he was such a sweetheart, and any kid who has already gone through open heart surgery deserves at LEAST a dollar store dinosaur puzzle!). But his dad made him give it back, which he did (reluctantly), but when his dad prompted him to say thank you, Cole said, "I can't. It hurts my mouth to say that." :) I think the ER needs a toy box. Some coloring books and crayons and puzzles, at least. Maybe I'll see what I can do about that, down the road here soon.

Ready, Set ... Crump!

Mark is in the hospital again. He was doing great. He hasn't had to sleep quite as much or had as much pain since he started on this new medication, and I was really starting to let myself hope that it wasn't just a random "breather," that this medication was really going to make a significant difference. I'm sure anyone who has been reading this blog for long knows that we get those. We'll have a rash of ER visits and then three or four days of relative calm. Once or twice lately we've even gone as long as a week without seeing the inside of the hospital. But today was day five, and he crumped. He had been out with Jason, picking up plywood at Lowe's. He came home, saying that he had a horrendous headache and a few minutes later, he collapsed. It wasn't neurological though. Jason came over as quickly as he could. The medics were already here by then, but J. said that he could tell by the way Mark was talking, etc., that it was probably his heart rather than anything stroke-like.

I'm home right now. I would have left the kids with Jason and gone in. He volunteered to watch them, but Brendan is getting worse rather than better. He can't even keep down sips of water and has been throwing up bile. I just couldn't leave my baby like that. When you're sick, no one will quite do the trick but Mama.

Welcome to the Weekend

Gizmo is gone. Monday evening he bit me, HARD. After that, he kept trying to bite me, but I stayed out of his reach! I called the people who sold him to us, and they agreed to take him back. I was SO discouraged. I know it's "just a dog," but ... Anyway, we're back in the market, I guess.

Mark was in the ER several times this week, mostly at night, although on Thursday I came home from Kayte's volleyball game to find that he had just called the medics. They pulled in right behind me. That was a little unsettling. You'd think I'd get used to this after all this time, but these sudden things still leave me shaken. Adam (his nurse) said it's probably better that I DON'T get used to it, but I'm not convinced. I'd really like to be able to take all this in stride.

In other news, Brendan woke up with a tummy ache this morning. I'm glad I kept him home from school because less than an hour after Alex went off to the Halls of Enlightenment, Brendan started throwing up. Kaitlyn, calling home after school, was informed not to bring any friends home because we have the flu in the house. She made me laugh. "That's it!" she cried. "I'm not coming home. I'm NOT coming home! I'll sleep on the freaking streets, if I have to!" Luckily, she has enough friends that she probably will manage to stay well away from this bug without having to spend any nights on street corners! (She called a few weeks back and said, "Can I come home?" I know she MEANT, "Can I bring a friend home?" but that's not what she said! I laughed. "You LIVE here. Of course you can come home." We do see her a BIT more now that school is in session, but she doesn't choose to hang out here often. We are FAR too boring for her!)

Abrupt subject change, here ... Alex and Brendan are both getting awards at school on Tuesday (assuming they are well). Alex is getting student of the month for Responsibility, and Brendan is getting a Pirate Gold badge (for what, we're not sure yet). If any of you locals want to attend, the assembly is at 1:00 in the gym.

I spent most of the day getting nine poems and five haiku out in the mail. By return mail, I got a rejection from Boyd Mills Press for the picture book that I submitted to them, but I was actually encouraged by it. Instead of the very general "we're sorry" that most places send out, they have a checklist, and they let you know why they didn't choose your piece. They could have chosen to indicate that the piece still needed work or several other options, but instead they said that it simply didn't meet their needs at the time. That's ALMOST as good as an acceptance, isn't it? Well, it doesn't pay nearly as well! but it was a boost to the morale, nonetheless.

Yey! There's hope!

Judy just came over and spent some time with Gizmo. She seems to think that with a couple of accommodations and some training, he could be just fine. He is a very good dog in every other respect; he just get overwhelmed when he doesn't have any way to have downtime. So we're going to try X, Y, and Z. Already I can see a huge difference in Gizmo's "state." He's much more relaxed. And we had Brendan do certain caretaking/playmate things with him, and we reinforced certain things that he is NOT to do (like pick up the dog or take him outside without permission and an adult present). And Judy taught me how to train the dog to walk away from a high intensity situation and go to "his spot." It'll take time, of course, but she thinks he's amenable to being trained. And she's bringing a baby gate so that we can keep him in the kitchen of the house is full of kids. All fingers and toes crossed ...

An Unexpected Turn of Events

So, get this. Our lovely dog drew blood on Brendan last night (after also nipping at the little neighbor boy). It looks like we're going to have to return him. Brendan is energetic, for sure, but he's not mean. He wasn't hurting the dog in any way. He just picked it up and ... got a set of teeth in his hand. The doc on call said that he should be seen and Urgent Care was already closed so she "highly, highly recommended" that we go to the ER. Well, I had Gabby and JP and couldn't get ahold of Becca so it was 9:30 before we were able to set out. I wanted to wait until morning, but Mark said, no. He didn't want to take any chances. So off we went. Signed off on a $100 dollar copay only to have the doctor tell us that it was fine, that we should, of course, have it reevaluated if it started oozing pus or something but that for now he recommended soap and water and maybe neosporin. So ... back home we went, to pick up Alex at Becca's and Kayte at a friend's Sweet Sixteen party. By 11:30, we were all in bed.

I got up this morning hoping that maybe, just MAYBE yesterday was a fluke and our sweet little dog would be back. Um, no. He didn't bite (thank goodness) but he growled his definitive displeasure at Brendan the moment he started playing with him. I don't blame the dog. Apparently being raised with one 7-year-old girl is NOTHING like living with my boys (and their multitudes of neighbor friends and their cousins and ...) But if we are going to have a dog, we have to have one that can handle that kind of busy, bouncy lifestyle with kids, kids, kids everywhere. It's so discouraging. I'm finding myself debating whether I should give up this quest for a dog and get a pair of hamsters or something. Although ... can you imagine my boys with hamsters? Sigh ...

Gizmo's Here!

We got our dog!!! He's a 2-year-old Lhasa Apso, very sweet and playful. He seems to feel right at home here. Much, much thanks to Rod and Billie and Shawn and to Judy Herring who all contributed QUITE generously so we could have this special little guy in our lives. We appreciate all of you, so much!

Home

Mark's home. I went in to get him after I got the kids off to school. He was snoring so loudly that I could hear him out into the hall! His heart rate is still high--around 100, even when he's asleep. And he's panting and shaky and all shades of purple and gray. But his rhythm is regular enough to come home.

I feel such anger this morning, such a feeling of desperation. I had a friend (who happens to be a therapist) tell me recently that anger is just fear in disguise. I don't feel afraid though. I feel helpless and hopeless and so, so tired. I find myself wondering today if modern medicine is always such a wonderful thing. It's a two edged sword, I guess. Without it, he would not be here at all, and neither would our three beautiful children. But now? When there's no hope of a cure or even of significant improvement? When the procedures and medications are just keeping him sick and in pain that much longer? Are we really doing him a favor? I don't know.

Good (?) Morning!

The medics just left with Mark. He woke up about a half hour ago with his heart in PSVT (i.e. racing really, really fast). He came downstairs, woke me up, and panted, "I need you to call the medics." When they got here, his heart rate was jumpy but reaching around 180. Oxygen brought it down to about 117. He was shades of purple and gray and SO clammy. But he's in good hands now.

I feel a little stoned right now. Well, actually, I've never been stoned, so how would I know what that feels like? I'm sitting here, trying to decide if I should see if I can find someone to come stay with the kids so I can go in with him, or if I should sleep some more and go in once I get them off to school? Trying to think feels like swimming in molasses.

Whee!

Long night last night. Mark's pain was BAD. It was pretty awful the night before, too, and he asked me to stay with him in case he needed help, which I did, but that meant I didn't get much sleep. But he didn't end up needing to go in to the ER. I guess last night's pain was worse, or maybe he was just too exhausted to deal with it effectively. I don't know. All I know is that he was in a great deal of pain and distress. It was late though, and Jason was at work so I had no one to stay with the kids. I called an ambulance about 11:00, hoping that the ER would keep him until morning. They didn't. I got a call about 3:30 to come pick him up. I didn't want to get all the kids up, especially since they have school today, but I can't leave Brendan once Kaitlyn is asleep because she just doesn't hear ANYTHING once she's out. So I brewed some coffee, dallied until I felt semi-awake, got Brendan up, wrapped him in his yellow fleece blanket, and set off. We were back by 5:00, and I got a couple more hours of sleep, thankfully, before I had to get the kids off to school, so it wasn't THAT bad of a night. And Mark had Dr. Rucker, who was willing to give him the meds he needed, so there's that too be thankful for, too.

Whew!

What an adventure the boys and I had today! Either that, or we just wasted five hours of our time, but I'd rather see it as an adventure. A learning experience. Whatever.

The animal shelter in Hillsboro has four dogs on their website that looked like they might work for us. I didn't want to drive all the way in there for nothing, so I tried calling them several times, left a message and a call back number, waited ... for three days. Finally I decided I was going to have to just take chance. I didn't particularly want to drive all over Timbuckto today, but I realized that a dog isn't just going to fall into our laps, that I'm going to have to do some (more) legwork to find the perfect fit for us. So I conjured up some enthusiasm, picked up the boys from school, and set off. An hour later (after only get turned around twice), we found the animal shelter, only to be told that all of the animals they had currently were displaying serious behavior issues and/or health problems. They suggested we try the Oregon Humane Society. I wanted to go home! But we'd come all that way, and the boys SO wanted to get a dog, and I figured, why not pop down the road a ways and see what they have? So we got back in the car and headed out. Somehow either the lady at the desk missed a step in her directions or I missed a step in my driving (most likely the latter), but somehow we ended up downtown Portland. At 5:00. With everybody and their uncle trying to just GET HOME. I drove round and round and finally proceeded out of the city (not that I had ANY idea where I was going, but OUT of the city was far preferable to IN the city, so ... out we went.) Finally I pulled over and called Becca, who looked up my location on MapQuest and gave me instructions on how to get where I was headed. Finally, after nearly 3 1/2 hours of driving, we pulled into the parking lot of the Oregon Humane Society.

Would you believe that out of about 100 dogs on site, not a single one was what we were looking for? Well, that's not quite true. There are a couple that they may suit our needs, but they haven't been checked out by the vet and the trainer yet so they can't be adopted (or even put on hold). All the others were either too big (lots of those), too old, too aggressive, too energetic... (We want energy, but when the sign on the kennel says, "This dog is very, very energetic," I tend to think ... maybe not! I was gazing affectionately at one little gal when I noticed the sign on her cage: "Returned for behavioral issues." Hm. Okay, moving on ...

We toured the entire facility twice, and I finally had to admit that they really have nothing currently available that would work for us. Alex burst into sobs and continued to have outburst of tears for a ways down the highway. Poor guy. He seemed slightly consoled by my promise to watch the humane society website like a hawk and call at the first sign of a suitable dog. I told him it's like Christmas, that we wait and dream and wait and wait ... and sometimes it seems like it'll NEVER get here! And then it does, and it's so worth the wait. I just hope "Santa" shows up soon!

More Ups and Downs

Mark and I watched a great movie Friday evening. ("I Love Huckabees") It was really nice just to be able to hang out with him on the couch and laugh together. But shortly after the movie ended, he had an attack of chest pain that radiated up his neck and down his arm. I had to call an ambulance. But after he was gone, I just COULDN'T go to the ER. I just couldn't. I called the hospital after he arrived to make sure he was okay and to give them Jason's home phone number for transportation home when they were through with him, but I just couldn't STAND the thought of spending another minute in that hospital. Feeling guilty, I went to bed, and woke up at 7 this morning. Mark was still gone. I checked the machine. Had they called and I didn't hear the phone? Nope. No messages. And then Mark called. "You can come get me." Dr. VanEaton had been on last night and they had kept him all night, giving him all the meds he needed to get through this episode. God bless VanEaton's huge heart! It just makes me even MORE mad about the other night. We went through all that crap for nothing!!! What does Dr. J expect to accomplish, with Mark? It's just as absurd, imo, as denying pain killers to a terminal cancer patient. If you're terminal ... you're terminal! Hello!?! Anyway ... deep breath.

Yesterday was much better. Mark still didn't feel well, and he spent nearly the entire day in bed, but at least he was a) comfortable enough to sleep, and b) home! I took the boys to the parade for the Dayton Harvest Festival. Jason had his kids today, too, since Becca was doing a Tupperware booth at the festival all day, so he met us there and we watched the parade together. It was really short, but fun. You know you live in a small town when in the middle of the parade, the firefighter that ran the 911 call last night leans out the window and calls, "How's Mark?" Yep, that's my town for ya.

After that, I went to the library book sale. I got a TON of books (well, maybe ... half a ton). In addition to about seven books for Alex and three for Brendan and two books of poetry written by Mattie J.T. Stepanek, a kid with muscular dystrophy (He's really quite a kid!), I got the following: C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, Roth's The Ghost Writer, McCullough's The Ladies of Missalonghi,E.L. Doctorow's Billy Bathgate, Margaret Atwood's The Robber Bride and Cat's Eye, Nine Plays by Bernard Shaw, and Joseph Conrad's Nostromo. I was pretty happy, coming out of there! What a way to build a library! Of course, it'll be three more months before I can buy more, but at $3 a bag ...! Wow. You just can't beat that.

After that, I took Kayte and Bren to Burger King. (Alex opted to stay home, and I let him since Mark was there, even though he was sleeping. The thing is ... I told Alex he could have one hour on the computer but didn't specify what he should do after that. When I got home, I asked him what he had done the rest of the time. He said, "Nothing." I said, "Nothing? You did nothing that whole time?" He said, "Yeah. Well, I did read the instruction manual for my game ..." Sigh. I forget that one has to be specific about what he is to do with his time or he will literally sit and do nothing at all. I don't quite get that. You turn Brendan loose and he runs outside, comes back in, slams doors, throws toys around, slides down the banister, runs back outside ... Alex just sits. The contrast is really amazing.) But anyway, back to what I was saying ... we had some lunch and then had to try to find some volleyball shorts for Kayte. I was TIRED and crabby by then and Brendan was driving me nuts and the stores were too crowded and I was TIRED, doggonit! (Did I mention that already?) Well, we finally got home and I let the boys sit in front of the game system (under Kayte's supervision) while I went up to their room--and crashed. I only slept for about an hour, but boy, did it feel good!

We went down to the festival at the park around 6:00, but I spent too much time browsing, getting cotton candy for the boys, chatting with Becca at her booth, etc. When we went to get tickets for the activities, they had stopped selling them. Brendan was NOT happy. He had been waiting all day to play in the bouncy house and go down the 19 foot inflatable slide, and now we couldn't, all because Mom had been TOO SLOW. But I went to the lady taking tickets for the slide and told her how very much he had wanted to play ... and she let him on! She gave him six turns without a single ticket. Then the boys went over and played one sort of carnival game, which they lost, but the lady gave them a token prize anyway. And then we started looking around, but ended up stuck at this one booth called Pino-kee-o's. This woman, named Phyllis, makes all these FABulous wooden toys (and other things, too, like a funky clock made out of a Scrabble board with the words ONE, TWO, THREE, etc. spelled out at the correct places). Alex immediately gravitated to this really complex geometric cube puzzle. He tried and tried and tried. I chatted with the lady (and chatted and chatted). Finally, I said, "I'm going to have to buy that, aren't I? You're never going to be able to walk away from it." Well, as soon as I wrote out my check and handed it over, he solved the puzzle! But he doesn't have the solution memorized, so I'm sure it'll give him lots more fun in the next few days. I got Brendan a Jacob's Ladder toy and took the lady's card. She's going to be at the area's biggest craft fair the weekend after Thanksgiving. I think I'm going to have to go hunt her down for Christmas gifts.

They finally had to start packing up, so we moved on to the free corn-on-the-cob feed. YUM!!! So good. Then home, to bathe the by-now-very-overtired-and-crabby Brendan and to take Kayte to her sleepover at Lindsay's. And then snack and prayers and bed and ... QUIET!!! Yey!

A Memorable Night

Last night definitely goes down in the Horrible Nights Hall of Fame. I called over to the hospital about 10:00. I was about to go to bed, since Jason had said he would go pick up Mark, but I just had a feeling something wasn't right. So I called. Sure enough, Mark was having a rough time. Since the boys were asleep, I decided to leave them with Kaitlyn and go in and be with Mark. Come to find out, they wouldn't give him any narcotics or the kind of anti-nausea that actually works for him, because they are concerned about addiction. Well, he got one dose from the day shift doctor, but then, within a half hour of coming in, the night shift doctor came on and refused to give him anything that actually works for him. I know he means to be working in Mark's best interest. Tough love, that kind of stuff. But ... hello?? They have informed us during the last couple of weeks that there is really no surgery that they are willing to risk and that we need to start to wrapping our minds around the inevitability of The End. But Mark can't have narcotics because ... he might get addicted? Um ... maybe I'm missing something, but ... why the heck does that matter if you're dying? Dr. J said, "Well, his personality has changed since I first knew him. He used to be so vibrant and bouncy, and he's not anymore." Yeah, well, if you lived with severe chronic pain for years with no hope of relief this side of Eternity, it just might change your personality, too, Doc!

Finally, about 12:30, when the therapist from the pain center had failed to respond to five calls, the doctor "compromised." He gave Mark the anti-nausea medication that works, but in pill form, so that the affect would be less dramatic. And he gave him a prescription for Dilaudid. I looked at Adam and said, "A prescription? So ... we can't get anything at all until morning then ..." Mark and I were so depressed. We were just stunned into silence. Mark had been up nearly all of the night before with this pain and had been battling it at home ALL DAY before giving in, finally, in the evening, only to sit in the ER for SIX HOURS and then be handed ... a prescription??? Adam, who had already told him that his hand were tied, went out without a word and came back a few minutes later with a small dose of IV narcotics. I don't know what he said to Dr. J to get that dose, but I could have bowed down and kissed his feet. It wasn't only enough to take the edge off, but ... it was definitely better than nothing.

Rougher Waters

Alex couldn't sleep last night. I think everything was just a bit much for him, and he couldn't turn it all off. I remember many long and lonely nights at his age, and I didn't even have half the challenges to keep me up at night as he does. So I stayed with him in his room for a bit, but when I got too tired we moved downstairs: him to the couch and me to the air mattress on the floor, where he could put his hand in my hair and feel me close by while we both fell asleep.

When I got up in the morning, I found that Mark had had a rough night, that he had nearly woken me up because of his chest pain. But he toughed it all all day long even though he was too nauseous to lie down and too lightheaded to walk around--or even barely to sit up. Finally, about 6:30 in the evening, he decided that he would have to go in to the hospital. He's there now. The boys and I dropped him off, and Jason will go pick him up later.

I can't really "win" in these situations because regardless of whether I go with Mark or stay with the kids, I feel guilty for not being with the other(s)! On a day like today, I would normally have leaned toward staying with Mark, because it wasn't "just" pain. It seems like his liver is acting up, too, and he's quite sick. I know if I were in a state like that, I would want company. But Alex is agitated enough as it is and Brendan just had his first (very partial) day of school today, and I just felt like the kids won this round. But I find myself sitting on the edge of my chair, waiting for news that this isn't "the Big One." That's my fear every time I choose to stay with the kids--that something big will happen while I'm gone and I won't be there for him. But ... what can I do? Until they perfect the cloning techniques, I have to make a choice and just hope for the best, I guess.

A Good Start

Hurrah! The kids are off to a new school year. Well, except for Brendan, who gets to ease his way into the water with a one hour session tomorrow and a half day on Friday before jumping in to the deep end next week.

Alex had a good day. He met a friend! A guy friend, no less. And he just happens to be seated in the same group as his friend Gabby, from last year. He really likes his teacher, too. Yey!

Kaitlyn came home just FLYING! She only stayed long enough to get half of her allowance out of me before taking off again for another three hours. I mentioned, when she got home, that from now on, she needs to plan to be home for dinner. She said, "Well, I didn't have a watch." Then find a clock, girlie! But she's happy, happy, happy to be back with her friends.

I played a long game of chess this evening with Alex. I couldn't believe he beat me! I was sure I had him down for the count. He had only his king and a pawn left, and I had something like eight pieces on the board. But one by one, he took me out ... And I tried to win, HARD! It's rather humiliating being creamed at chess by your ten-year-old son! He was so proud though. We have some of our best times together over the chess board, and both of us really get into it. And when he won, he hopped around the house like Tigger. "I won! I won! I won!" I like playing games with him because he's not easy to beat!

Happy Labor Day

I did it! Twelve hours from now, I'll be just about ready to wake the kids up for their first day of the new school year. It's not that I don't love my children, mind you! I adore all three of them. But somehow the "adoration factor" wanes when they are all cooped up together, when they are hot and/or bored, and when I haven't had a serious break from them in nearly a hundred days. I guess that's not quite true. I did have a beach day in June and a few stretches in the hospital when someone else had the kids and I sat around reading. But other than that, they've been beneath my elbows for quite long enough! I am more than happy to be sending them back tomorrow. Let them work off a good portion of their energy in school and sports, and they (tend to) come back to me much more laid back. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe the down time restores my spirit so that it just FEELS like they are easier to manage. Either way, I'll take it.

On a different note, Mark's doctor has decided not to do the ablation after all, or at least not yet. They want to try yet another medication. Mark is so complicated that everything is risky. In fact, the last time we were in (Thursday), Dr. Broberg told Mark that we need to prepare ourselves for the fact that he (Mark) won't be around forever. Of course, we already knew that. But hearing the doctor say it makes it seem more real, somehow.

Alex had a rough patch this afternoon. He wanted to know if I could tell him that Daddy was going to be okay. (This came out of the blue, since Mark hasn't been in the ER for the last few days.) I told him that nobody can really tell us what to expect, that his daddy has already well outlived everything the doctors expected, that he is just a stubborn man and who can say how long he'll be able to keep on fighting? Alex wanted to know, "But ... what if he isn't okay? What then?" I hesitated, but decided there was nothing to say but the truth. "Then he will go to Heaven, and we will stick together and get through it." He laid on my lap and cried, and I told him not to feel bad about his feelings--any feelings. I told him that grief shows up in a lot of different ways and that none of those ways are wrong, that he'll be far better off in the long run just letting himself feel what he feels. So he cried and I rubbed his head and then, about 20 minutes or so after the conversation started, he said suddenly, "Wanna play a game?" And that was the end of it. For now.