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Wednesday, July 18, 2012

3 Days and Counting

Audrey and I will fly to Boston this coming Sunday morning.  That's three days away, and my emotions have been bobbing around like a kite in a gale.  How is it that I can trust in God so deeply, and yet manage to stress over the details the way I do?  He has provided everything we need for the moment.  People have helped us in so many ways, people who haven't even met us but felt moved by Audrey's story, people who haven't seen me in twenty years, people who have humble situations of their own and yet have given what they can.  There are no words sufficient to thank you.  As of today, I have a definite place to stay next week, a plane ticket, and a surgery schedule.  There is nothing in my suitcase yet, but each of the children has had some special one on one time with me in the past week, and my husband and I will go on our first date in a long time this Friday--I'm planning it as a surprise, nothing major but I hope he will love it.

Audrey loved her first visit to the water park!  I was so excited that I took her the same day her picc line dressing was finally ok to remove!
Next Wednesday, July 25, Dr Manfredi (the Gastroenterologist) will put her under anesthesia, look at her throat with a tiny camera, and attempt to cut out the scar tissue blocking her throat in an innovative procedure using a tiny knife down her throat.  The risks are very serious.  Her tear has barely healed, and the healed area is very fragile and could very easily reopen.  Our urgency over the surgery was caused by her backing up saliva, but ever since you prayed for her last week, she has stopped for the time being.  That has been a huge blessing, allowing us to relax slightly and enjoy some time together as a family.  My husband's work schedule has been insane lately, and unfortunately he has had to go in some extra hours on the weekends in addition to long days during the week, but it's ok-- we are so grateful to have a job right now, when so many people are struggling without one.  I just need to keep breathing deeply, and counting our blessings instead of all the things I don't know and can't control.

A friend sent me this quote from a beloved former president of my church:
“It all works out. Don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It all works out in the end. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us.”
― Gordon B. Hinckley


"How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is laid for your faith in his excellent word!
What more can He say than to you He hath said, who unto the Savior for refuge hath fled?
In every condition, in sickness in health, in poverty's vale or abounding in wealth,
At home or abroad, on the land or the sea, as thy days may demand so thy succor shall be.
Fear not, I am with thee, oh be not dismayed, for I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by My righteous omnipotent hand. 
“When through the deep waters I call thee to go, The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o'erflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless, And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie, My grace all-sufficient shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design, Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes:
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I'll never - no, never, no, never forsake!” 
                                                                                                        -attr. R. Keen

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Serenity Now!


The cookie in the photo is fake, but it still made her really happy!
I just grabbed a big fat watermelon seed out of her mouth in the nick of time before Audrey swallowed it. Earlier this morning she threw up most of a leaf from at least three days ago. We are vacuuming and sweeping like crazy here, but I think the crazy is winning. Now it's time for Silly Songs With Susie, the part of the show where you know that Susie has finally cracked. All morning we've been singing: "She's the princessssss who does a lot of things, she's so busyyyyy, and crawls around! We must ask herrrr not to eat anything, and she's heading off to Boston in the fall!" (A little Veggie Tales reference there.)

Had a great chat with Dr Downey yesterday, her wonderful surgeon here in Utah.  Audrey is tentatively scheduled for a needle knife procedure in Boston for two weeks from today.  Dr Downey and Dr Manfredi will coordinate and share information to determine if this is a better course than balloon dilation.   If all goes well, I need to report on Monday July 23rd.  Alone, at least for the time being.  All my kids snuggled around me last night for story time and I have been getting lots of spontaneous hugs from them.  My little 2-year-old's separation anxiety has been awful this week!  And the older kids seem alternately determined to drive me insane with making lots of extra messes, and very moody and affectionate.  Between worrying over Audrey, her appointments, managing the house, meals, and other kids, and now planning for Boston, I feel like that old Seinfeld episode, ready to shout "Serenity Now!"

Monday, July 9, 2012

Exciting News!


Great news today! First, after my post yesterday it was like a miracle (thank you for your prayers!), and baby Audrey stopped choking on her spit. Kept her close beside us all night just to make sure, but she didn't have a single episode. Then, her esophagram this morning showed her leak is fully healed! We will see Dr Downey tomorrow morning and he is already planning to authorize her picc line being pulled this week (yay!) But best of all, after so much phone tag we are finally on the cusp of getting her in for that special procedure in Boston! Dr Manfredi's nurse had not realized how urgent Audrey's situation was, and she is now planning to work us in as soon as possible; she'll call me in the morning after talking with the doctor. We are fighting the clock, but going to try doing the needle knife thing out there instead of a balloon dilation here (which could easily reopen her tear and would be a very temporary fix--three weeks tops--even if it worked, since they only plan to dilate her to the point of being able to handle her own saliva). I could fly out as early as next week for the first phase of this! Oh, I hope this same-day surgery in Boston is all she really needs to turn the corner!  Thank you for again all of your prayers and support!  Tonight we're going to take time out and play at Thanksgiving Point where they are doing their annual Jello Fight!  I can't wait to play with the kids, and Audrey will love watching.  I'll let you know what I find out in the morning!

A few photos of naughty daddy giving her some contra-ban in celebration.  It's even "Dad's" root beer.



Sunday, July 8, 2012

Mischief and Mayhem

Audrey says: Lemonade, lemonade, everywhere, and not a drop for me!
We had a great laugh during the parade on the 4th when baby Audrey suddenly threw up a gross goopy glob of spit, paper, and the stem of a plum. Our mischievous crawler has lightning fast hands and she obviously got herself a couple of contra-ban snacks at some point. Then yesterday we laughed when she threw up a smaller glob of spit with a bit of leaf. (We really DO watch this child like a hawk!) I sat up with her until 2am so that she could sleep sitting up to keep her airways clear. Today she is throwing up only spit, every hour or less. Couldn't lay down for her nap without choking. I'm not laughing any more. This could be debris in her throat, but more likely it's her stricture rearing its ugly head, right on blasted schedule.  She might be heading to Primary again tonight, this time for our first balloon dilation. So frightened it will reopen the tear in her scar and put us right back where we were.  Ironically her esophagram is scheduled for tomorrow morning.  Some girls just can't wait for their big day I guess.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Summary of our Options

I am going to try to summarize in simple terms the choices we are dealing with in Audrey's medical situation, which will hopefully explain why we are heading to Boston.

Her inability to swallow is caused by a thick, complex scar in her throat from the early surgeries to connect her short, oddly shaped esophagus to her stomach.  This fast-growing scar has needed to be dilated, or stretched, every four to six weeks since she was released from the hospital last September, because it keeps growing closed so tight that even her saliva has a hard time getting through.    Because of this, she has gone back and forth from trying to learn how to eat and drink by mouth, to being completely dependent on the G-tube pumping infant formula directly into her stomach.  A dilation is a simple outpatient surgery done under anesthesia, and she usually comes home that day and recovers over the next three days.  We've done it eleven times since September.  Once, last winter, she had a small tear form in her throat during a dilation, which healed over on its own with heavy antibiotic treatment over the next two weeks.  (The antibiotic Clindamycin that was given to resolve the tear, caused her to develop a nasty intestinal infection called C-difficile, which gave her horrible pain for three weeks until it was finally resolved by probiotics.)

In June, during her eleventh dilation, the thick scar in her throat split and a wider tear formed in her esophagus, leaking bacteria into the protective membrane space around her throat (called the mediastinem).  The resulting inflammation in her chest caused a dangerous buildup of fluid both around and in her right lung.  A chest tube was placed to drain that fluid, but a tiny nick in her lung caused a new buildup, 60 mls of air around her heart.  A second chest tube was placed to relieve the air, and over the next three weeks she received heavy antibiotics and tests that have shown the leak beginning to heal.  We were released to home on the 21st of June, and have since then been giving her two strong antibiotics, one through her G-tube (once daily) and one through an intravenous "picc" line straight to her heart (every 8 hours).  We opted to go home with the picc line still in place, first because it was the only way to avoid being re-prescribed the Clindamycin drug that gave her such a terrible reaction last winter, and second because they can draw blood for her labs through it rather than putting her through the inevitable four or five-poke drama of trying to get blood out of her tiny veins.  Fortunately, it has worked and she hasn't had to go through all of that again like she did in February.  She is still not allowed to take anything by mouth, in order to protect the leak site so that it will heal over as completely as possible, and is also receiving only the minimum constant drip of milk through her G-tube rather than a faster pump of intermittent "meals" as we used to do before this hospitalization.

On this coming Monday, a test will be done to take a picture of her esophagus.  It will tell us two things.  One, whether her leak has healed, and two, whether her throat is getting tight again in spite of our precautions against any potential reflux.  The fact is, despite her having been medicated for it her entire life because of the commonness of bad reflux alongside her defect, we don't know whether she actually has bad reflux or not, but it could explain the reason for her scar growing back so quickly.  She doesn't have outward signs of reflux, but there is a so-called silent reflux that is also common.  The test that is usually done to determine it has not yet been done for Audrey because it is somewhat involved and we have had setbacks that prevented her receiving it earlier.  We anticipate that she will receive that 24-hour test at the hospital some time very soon, once the leak is determined to be completely healed.  If it turns out she does have bad reflux, it will explain why her throat keeps stricturing so quickly, but it will also tell us that despite essentially an overdose of Prevacid twice daily, she is still producing too much acid and should probably receive a surgery called a Nissen, where the stomach is wrapped around the base of the esophagus and sewn tightly to prevent any backflow up into the throat from the stomach.  If that happens, it could solve the problem of her scar closing down so quickly, but it could also cause a whole set of new problems from the Nissen itself.  We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.  It may also turn out that she does not have bad reflux, in which case we'll know that her scar growing so quickly is caused by something else.

Regardless, her scar in the meantime has become so thick and tough that dilations are becoming as dangerous as they are necessary.  Our surgeon had felt that an instrument called the Tucker Dilator was the best way to handle Audrey's particular needs, but now that we have had such a big problem develop with the tear, he plans instead to use a very gentle balloon technique to dilate her only as much as it takes to let her saliva pass through, not attempting to make room for any kind of eating or drinking through her mouth.

Our options are very limited at this point.  I researched every technique I could find for dealing with Audrey's problem, and they are few and far between, but five of them show the most promise, and the two of those which I feel are the most promising are not available in our region.  The choices are:

1. Placing a stent in her throat to try to force the scar to regrow in a wider circular pattern.  I discuss the technique in this post and explain that because we learned about a little boy in California, very similar story to Audrey's, who passed away as a result of a very similar stent procedure, we felt that it was not right for her.

2. Using opposing magnets on either side of her scar to try to push through and cut a circular opening in the scar.  This technique would be performed by a friend of our surgeon, who would travel here from Japan to make the attempt.  As innovative and fascinating as it sounds, I can see many reasons it might not work and could be in some ways very messy and involved.

3.  There is a technique called a "needle knife" procedure, where a tiny knife is inserted down the throat to carefully cut away scar tissue without needing to make any chest incisions.  (Think of it a little like cleaning out a green sweet pepper.)  This technique is not available in our region, and is typically performed by a gastroenterologist, or GI specialist, rather than a pediatric surgeon.  I know of one GI who performs this procedure at Cincinnati Children's hospital, as well as the GI Dr. Manfredi at Boston Children's Hospital Esophageal Atresia Treatment center.

4. Another technique similarly available only out of state, is often done in conjunction with the needle knife procedure, where small doses of steroid are injected into the scar tissue.  The steroid stops the overgrowth of the tissue and softens the existing tissue, allowing it to be stretch open with a dilation and stay open much longer.  It doesn't always work, but often does.

5. Our last resort is called a resection, and it could be done both here and of course back East.  We are trying to do everything we can to avoid another open-chest surgery, because her small body has endured so much and the recovery of a surgery like that is lengthy and intense.  But if all other methods fail, they will cut into her chest wall (usually needing to break a rib in order to reach the right area) and disconnect her esophagus again.  They would cut out the bad section that is causing the problem, and attempt to sew it the two pieces of her esophagus back together again to give her a fresh start.  Here is the problem.  Her first connection (the surgery is called an anastamosis) was done under a lot of tension, because the two pieces were still quite far apart.  The surgeon said it barely came together.  It has now been almost a year since that surgery, so we don't know what it is like in there.  Sometimes the esophagus quickly grows in a way that relieves that tension and would allow for enough flexibility to be pulled back together after a part is cut out, but it varies how quickly that happens, and sometimes it doesn't happen quite that way at all.   Let's say a resection turns out to be her best hope for eating normally.  The surgeons could find, once they get in there, that the good parts of the esophagus are too short to reconnect.  If that occurs, they will have a few choices to make.
       A) They could pull her stomach up into her throat.  This is called a gastric pullup and has been done numerous times successfully in many patients.  A person can actually go their entire life with their stomach in their throat (and you thought it only happened on roller coasters!) with the added bonus that they will always be skinny, because they have to eat small frequent meals and physically cannot overeat.  From what I've read, the biggest drawback is that stomach acid doesn't have far to go before it spills over into the airway, and the resulting damage over time can be devastating.  For reasons that are hard to explain, I don't feel good about this option for Audrey.
      B) A portion of her intestine could be used to replace the esophagus.  This used to be done frequently, but there are a number of problems with it that I won't go into here.  It works well in many cases but again, I don't feel it is right for Audrey.
      C) She can be medically paralyzed for two to three weeks while doctors in Boston use an innovative technique to stretch the two good ends of the esophagus closer until they can be sewn together.  The "Foker technique" is designed to rapidly grow esophageal tissue, and has been fairly successful for the surgeons at Boston, but unfortunately as of yet almost no one has been able to recreate their success elsewhere.  The doctors at our hospital in Salt Lake have seen problems with the technique and were very concerned about it for Audrey, but of course the Boston group says it is highly successful.  Personally, our jury is still out on this.  I will say that being paralyzed by drugs after her anastamosis last August, literally nearly killed Audrey.  Both of her lungs were almost completely collapsed for a time because saliva had pooled in her lungs, which she had been unable to cough out because of being forced not to move.  It is our most painful memory of this entire experience and is very challenging for me to think of revisiting.

So, those are our choices.  I hope it's clear why we are going the direction we are.  We want to save her esophagus in the least invasive way possible, so we are going to try everything we can before considering the major surgery for a resection.  The bottom line is, our best options for that approach are not available here.  This is why we are taking her East.



Stepping into the Darkness

I've heard it said that when you reach the end of the lighted path, that is when you need to step into the darkness, and have faith that everything is going to work together for your good. 

Our last couple of weeks I have been a nervous wreck, trying to discern how to take the next step.  So many times my husband has just wrapped his arms around me tightly, helping me to remember to "be still and know."  I am amazed by his outer calmness.  I have always been an adventurous soul, but there is something about the reality of needing to take Audrey away from home for the next phase of her treatment that terrifies me.  The reason is right in front of me.  I look into the faces of my children and seem to see an underlying plea for me not to leave again, to instead fight for our family to stay together.  There are so many things happening beneath the surface of their minds and hearts through this whole process, so many worries and hopes and unseen sacrifices.  It shows up in their prayers, their playtime, their nightmares.  One of my sons is even being treated for a medical issue he developed as a result of all the stress he's been internalizing over the past 16 months.  I am working hard night and day to figure out the logistics of how to get us out to Boston for a series of treatments, all the while knowing that these treatments may not work, that she may need even more surgery.  I can't tell the children that I'll only be gone for a week, two weeks, a month, two months.  I look into their faces, their hearts, and I know what I need to do.  Last year I spent weeks in the hospital before Audrey was born because of the way her condition ravaged my body.  Then I lived another six weeks in Salt Lake to stay near Audrey during her first weeks in the NICU.  Then when I could no longer stand it, I moved home and commuted up every day for the next four months, leaving both the older children and my one year old baby, my sweet amazing son who had been inseparable from me before all of this happened, for many hours a day.  Then when we thought Audrey was going up to Primary again last month for a week, I knew instinctively that I needed to stay by her side and never doubted, never visited home during those busy weeks that stretched into nearly a month because of her complications, and it was worth it.  She is healed.  We learned a lot. I loved our visits from the family and friends, and just knew the entire time, to the bottom of my soul, that I was in the right place.  We've been thrown so many frustrating curves in this journey.  But I have faith.  The Lord has never let me down when I have done all I can do to fulfill my part; he has always made up the difference to give us what we truly need.  So I am pushing forward with faith, and planning toward September as a departure date, with the possibility of a short trip out in August for some initial appointments.  I have pondered all of this so much, and felt that same strong conviction that I need to try hard to get a temporary place for the entire family out there.  We have counseled as a family and they all agree.  We know that my husband can't stay out the entire time because of his responsibilities at work, so I've been able to work it out with my mother to take his place for about a month.  I hope that by the time mom needs to return home, we will either be ready to return home or I will have made enough trusted friends out there to be able to arrange a sitter as needed.  The thing about this is, I know it's right.  If my being out there for the entire time alone with Audrey was right, I know I would feel it.  I have searched my heart, and this is not fear talking.  We need each other. 

This is why when I first learned about the realities of going to Boston it drained the color from my face.  I had no idea that housing and parking and travel in that area cost six times what they do here in our hometown.  There really is not a place available that I can take my children with me, within an hour of the hospital, and expect to pay less than $6000 a month before food and gasoline.  Believe me, I have spent dozens of hours searching every resource I can find.  The Ronald McDonald house there is reserved for cancer patients only.  Other hospital housing is available (for a reasonable but higher price), but there is a limit of four people including children there.  Short term rentals are available, but they start at about $5000 a month.  Some friends pointed me toward some websites for furnished vacation rentals, and after a lot of searching I received one reply, out of dozens of inquiries, from one place that made my heart stop.  It looks perfect.  A furnished 3 bedroom, with a big yard, room for everyone, in a safe quiet town near the coast, for $2000 a month during the off season (September through May)-- normally approximately that per week.  The green grass and blue skies and distant water in the photographs made me instantly relax. In short it looks a lot like home, and the owners have been extremely kind in every correspondence we have shared since.  When I pull out of my reverie of imagining my family there, I realize there is no way we can afford even that rent.  Not alone, at least.  We talked it through extensively, and have been praying every night and day, trying to be humble and open to whatever is right in the situation. We know it is going to take a lot of flexibility and a patchwork of many solutions to work everything out, and in the end we have felt that it is time to ask for help.  Audrey's needs have already exhausted virtually all of our financial resources, and this next step is going to take us reaching out for helping hands in order to get there.  I had barely begun the brainstorming process when a friend of ours created this fundraising website for Audrey.

Please consider sharing it with your friends and family, we need to spread her story as far as we can.


I'm also hoping to organize a benefit concert, car wash and yard sale, but the idea of organizing everything at once is overwhelming, so I have to take one step at a time.  I take a deep breath and try to remember, "be still and know." My Father in Heaven has never let me down.  I know this will all work out, even if I can't see the path clearly now.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Fun Stuff Since Coming Home

Audrey had such a sweet Independence Day!  We were blessed to have visiting Aunts and Uncles and cousins with us for the celebration, so we had fun attending a parade and having a barbeque together.  I smiled as the float for Primary Children's Medical Center went by during the parade, and remembered how last year the sight had made me cry with a broken heart that my two month old baby was still in Salt Lake without us.


It has been a full two weeks since our hospital discharge!  We have tried to get back into the swing of things, but keeping her medicine on schedule plus getting to her doctor appointments has been a busy job on top of restarting all of our normal routine.  Not to mention all of the planning and decision-making over heading East for her next treatments.

I wanted to share with you some fun photos from our last couple of weeks, and a cute story or two. 

Getting back on continuous pump feeds has been a drag for Audrey.  Literally. 

  

She wants to crawl, and she has this tether attached to her all the time.  If we aren't fast enough to help, she has figured out now that she can crawl to the end of her leash, turn around, grab the cord and pull the backpack closer to her, and then crawl as far as she can again. 




Good thing we have the tube very well secured to her diaper!!  (We are now double pinning it to the thickest part of her diaper, our way of preventing the tube from ever pulling out.)



Getting used to the picc line has been a learning experience.  Every eight hours we have this routine.  First, we have to pull out a medicine "pod" from the refrigerator and let it warm up to room temperature over the next half hour or so.  Then, (after cleaning our hands) we use an alcohol wipe to sterilize the end of her line, and flush some saline through it before connecting the medication pod.  To prep the saline syringe, you have to take it out of the package, take off the cap, and push the air out of the syringe, which is initially kind of stiff.  The nurses usually clear the air out of the syringe by pulling back on it a little, and then pushing out the air.  It is smooth and easy that way, but it occurred to me that if this is supposed to be sterile saline, why are we pulling room air into the syringe?  I learned why.  If you just push the air out of the syringe without pulling back first, the stiffness causes it to give unexpectedly and you shoot out a little fountain about five feet into the air.  My stubborn germophobia has me doing this most of the time, but yeah, it's pretty goofy looking.  The medication pod goes on next, and that little thing is a technological marvel.  The first night we got home, the home health company thought they might have forgotten a pump for the IV med because that was how it was administered at the hospital.  Turns out not so, instead we have these nifty little pods designed by an astronaut that automatically distribute the medication slowly over a specific amount of time.  No pump needed.  At the end of that time, we remove the medication pod, clean the "hub" again with alcohol, flush it again after my little Old Faithful Geyser routine, and flush it one last time with stuff called heparin, that prevents clotting in the line.  I'm going to get that honorary nursing degree yet.

Her home health nurse comes once a week to change the picc line dressing, which is a sterile procedure needing masks, etc.   Audrey amazed her by not crying once during the dressing change.  I even got a huge smile out of her for a photo!




Her labs last week were gorgeous, showing that her infection is well on the mend, and the doctor just wanted to finish out the six weeks of antibiotic to be cautious.  We will hopefully get to have the picc line out when we see him again a week from today.



In the meantime, have a wonderful Independence week!  We have so much to be thankful for in this nation.  I had the opportunity to sing in a spectacular celebration that was broadcast to the troops, and I confess I could not hold back the tears when we sang the National Anthem.  We are so blessed to enjoy the freedoms that we do, to study and express ourselves, to work and especially to worship as we choose.   Happy Birthday America!