Grandpa is in week 2 of his stay at the Legacy Care Center. We try to stop by for a visit about every other day or so. He just kind of sits in his room, except for physical therapy once a day and church on Sundays. I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk (or a push in the wheelchair, rather) down the hall and he said no, he was fine.
He had a problem with a catheter and it seems to have gotten better. He no longer has the catheter and is able to take care of that part on his own now. His neck seems to be fine. He says he's not really in pain, but the brace just obstructs his ability to do a lot of things. He has another swallow test sometime this week. That will be the big thing. He hasn't eaten anything for 2.5 weeks. For me, I think I would be going insane wanting something sugary or greasy, or anything with flavor. I asked him if he craved anything and he said, "no." His voice is pretty well back to normal, which I hope is a good sign that maybe his throat is healing, but nurse James (always the realist, or pessimist, whichever way you look at it), says elderly people sometimes never heal from this swallowing problem. Sigh. I hope my grandpa is not one of those people.
We took him a word search to do. He said he was worried his brain was getting mushy. I've never seen my grandpa do a word search in my whole life. We'll see if he does it.
We just keep him in our prayers and hope for the best.
01 April 2014
22 March 2014
Grandpa
My grandpa turns 85 in two more weeks. He is the true patriarch of our family and the last "old wise one" that we have around. He's had a rough week and is going to have some pretty rough weeks to follow. My sister already documented well what happened and so I am just going to copy it here (hopefully she's ok with that) and then continue with my own thoughts.
Annie wrote:
On Monday, at lunchtime at "the yard", my grandpa set out for his daily constitutional around my uncles t-shirt shop when he fell. He fell forward and he fell hard. He's too old to really brace himself and he smashed his face into the concrete floor. My uncles got him up and his face was bloodied, but he was conscious and coherent and was able to get himself into the bathroom. He agreed to get checked out by a doctor because he was in pain, and, headed to an emergency room.
While there, things were not good and though he was "okay" after some tests and scans and x-rays, it was realized that my grandpa's fall had caused him to break the top two vertebrae in his neck. The vertebrae that hold his head up and are dangerously close to his spinal cord. It was decided to transfer him by ambulance to another hospital where a surgeon could do more tests and figure out the best way to help him.
At that point, the prayers started pouring in. Family and friends prayed. My grandpa was given a priesthood blessing. His name was put on the prayer rolls of several temples. By Monday night, the surgeon felt the best option for my grandpa would be surgery to put him in a halo neck brace. The kind that gets screwed into your skull. This apparatus would probably be attached to him for at least three months and because of the nature of the device, he wouldn't be able to care for himself.
More prayers and blessings.
Surgery was scheduled for Tuesday morning.
More prayers. More prayers.
Yesterday morning, after checking him out, the surgeon decided that a halo would not be necessary, that it would be better for him and his recovery, to fuse my grandpa's broken neck to his shoulders. He'd completely lose the ability to turn his head for the rest of his life, and would have to relearn a lot, but it wasn't a halo.
More prayers and blessings.
Surgery for the fuse was scheduled and my grandpa was wheeled into the operating room. My mom says that they had him on the table, on his stomach, to do the surgery and when they got his neck open, the bones were not broken like they had been on the x-rays the night before. In fact, the neck to shoulder fuse wasn't going to be necessary. A call was made from the operating room to the family to change my grandpa's surgery - they needed permission to flip him to his back, and fix his neck through his throat (icky!) - and all he needed was a solitary pin and the vertebrae in question fused to one that wasn't broken. (If I have all my details correct).
Can you believe that?
I can.
Annie went on to write about her testimony of this event. The fact that the break wasn't as bad as they thought and that a halo was not necessary was nothing shy of miraculous. Annie attributes it to the blessings of missionary work and that how we often hear about how the lives of missionaries and their families are blessed beyond measure during those years while they serve. I agree with this and would never argue, but I also wanted to add my own thoughts.
I also think that this event has been a testament to the legacy of my grandpa and that his time on earth is not finished yet. There is still work to be done. He is still needed here to be an example to us all and a leader in our family.
When I went to see him late Tuesday night (the day of the surgery), he was still a little groggy from being operated on for the last several hours, but he was still witty and when the nurse and aid finally got him situated, he said, "is somebody going to tell me what's going on here." I didn't get a chance to visit him again until Friday afternoon and he was sitting up and watching basketball. He told a visitor who came that one of his fears during the surgery is that he would swear coming out of the anesthesia. He doesn't swear. Though pretty silly, that was very humbling to hear. I can't imagine him not being here.
Today, five days after the fall, he is leaving the hospital and headed to a rehab center. I don't think anyone, especially him, is excited about this prospect, but his current issues are beyond what anyone can take care of for him at home. Because of the surgery, he can't swallow. The muscles in his throat are so swollen, inflamed, and damaged, that his body can't control what goes down his esophagus and what goes down his wind pipe. He can't eat anything and has to have a feeding tube. He can't even suck on anything other than clean ice in a clean mouth for fear of aspirating or worse, catching pneumonia.
He has to wear a huge plastic neck brace to support his head and neck. It totally changes his posture and balance and will require him to re-figure out how to walk and do basic tasks.
He also has a catheter in place, mostly due to some errors made by an ER person on Monday night. Until he can get rid of the feeding tube, walk on his own, and go to the bathroom, he'll be in the rehab facility. Hopefully it will only be for a couple of weeks, but who knows.
Things are a bit bleak for my grandpa at the moment and I feel really sad for him. However, if anyone is going to recover from something like this, he will. He is so determined. He follows rules to the utmost and will do exactly what every doctor tells him to do. There are lots of people praying for him. His own faith and testimony are the strongest I know. It's going to be rough, but I think it's going to be ok. Hopefully we will all be strengthened and buoyed up by this experience and that he and all of us will be positively impacted in whatever way we are supposed to be by this happening.
Annie wrote:
On Monday, at lunchtime at "the yard", my grandpa set out for his daily constitutional around my uncles t-shirt shop when he fell. He fell forward and he fell hard. He's too old to really brace himself and he smashed his face into the concrete floor. My uncles got him up and his face was bloodied, but he was conscious and coherent and was able to get himself into the bathroom. He agreed to get checked out by a doctor because he was in pain, and, headed to an emergency room.
While there, things were not good and though he was "okay" after some tests and scans and x-rays, it was realized that my grandpa's fall had caused him to break the top two vertebrae in his neck. The vertebrae that hold his head up and are dangerously close to his spinal cord. It was decided to transfer him by ambulance to another hospital where a surgeon could do more tests and figure out the best way to help him.
At that point, the prayers started pouring in. Family and friends prayed. My grandpa was given a priesthood blessing. His name was put on the prayer rolls of several temples. By Monday night, the surgeon felt the best option for my grandpa would be surgery to put him in a halo neck brace. The kind that gets screwed into your skull. This apparatus would probably be attached to him for at least three months and because of the nature of the device, he wouldn't be able to care for himself.
More prayers and blessings.
Surgery was scheduled for Tuesday morning.
More prayers. More prayers.
Yesterday morning, after checking him out, the surgeon decided that a halo would not be necessary, that it would be better for him and his recovery, to fuse my grandpa's broken neck to his shoulders. He'd completely lose the ability to turn his head for the rest of his life, and would have to relearn a lot, but it wasn't a halo.
More prayers and blessings.
Surgery for the fuse was scheduled and my grandpa was wheeled into the operating room. My mom says that they had him on the table, on his stomach, to do the surgery and when they got his neck open, the bones were not broken like they had been on the x-rays the night before. In fact, the neck to shoulder fuse wasn't going to be necessary. A call was made from the operating room to the family to change my grandpa's surgery - they needed permission to flip him to his back, and fix his neck through his throat (icky!) - and all he needed was a solitary pin and the vertebrae in question fused to one that wasn't broken. (If I have all my details correct).
Can you believe that?
I can.
Annie went on to write about her testimony of this event. The fact that the break wasn't as bad as they thought and that a halo was not necessary was nothing shy of miraculous. Annie attributes it to the blessings of missionary work and that how we often hear about how the lives of missionaries and their families are blessed beyond measure during those years while they serve. I agree with this and would never argue, but I also wanted to add my own thoughts.
I also think that this event has been a testament to the legacy of my grandpa and that his time on earth is not finished yet. There is still work to be done. He is still needed here to be an example to us all and a leader in our family.
When I went to see him late Tuesday night (the day of the surgery), he was still a little groggy from being operated on for the last several hours, but he was still witty and when the nurse and aid finally got him situated, he said, "is somebody going to tell me what's going on here." I didn't get a chance to visit him again until Friday afternoon and he was sitting up and watching basketball. He told a visitor who came that one of his fears during the surgery is that he would swear coming out of the anesthesia. He doesn't swear. Though pretty silly, that was very humbling to hear. I can't imagine him not being here.
Today, five days after the fall, he is leaving the hospital and headed to a rehab center. I don't think anyone, especially him, is excited about this prospect, but his current issues are beyond what anyone can take care of for him at home. Because of the surgery, he can't swallow. The muscles in his throat are so swollen, inflamed, and damaged, that his body can't control what goes down his esophagus and what goes down his wind pipe. He can't eat anything and has to have a feeding tube. He can't even suck on anything other than clean ice in a clean mouth for fear of aspirating or worse, catching pneumonia.
He has to wear a huge plastic neck brace to support his head and neck. It totally changes his posture and balance and will require him to re-figure out how to walk and do basic tasks.
He also has a catheter in place, mostly due to some errors made by an ER person on Monday night. Until he can get rid of the feeding tube, walk on his own, and go to the bathroom, he'll be in the rehab facility. Hopefully it will only be for a couple of weeks, but who knows.
Things are a bit bleak for my grandpa at the moment and I feel really sad for him. However, if anyone is going to recover from something like this, he will. He is so determined. He follows rules to the utmost and will do exactly what every doctor tells him to do. There are lots of people praying for him. His own faith and testimony are the strongest I know. It's going to be rough, but I think it's going to be ok. Hopefully we will all be strengthened and buoyed up by this experience and that he and all of us will be positively impacted in whatever way we are supposed to be by this happening.
Poor little boy - Part #2
Jack finally got better. It took a while. The hives continued to spread and get worse. They went through a specific pattern:
Now the residue from the hives just seems to be extremely dry, sand paper skin. I don't know if it is caused by the hives or all the topical stuff we put on him, but he is dry and soaks up lotion like a sponge.
- small red dots
- large raised bumps
- clusters of bumps
- bumps turn purple
- bumps begin to fade
- small red dots appear on new parts of the skin
- process repeats and continues until every square inch of skin has been covered
This was amplified by a night of throwing up and several days of hysterical itching. The hives even made it to his face and the back of his head, but luckily this was the only one part of his body that was spared from the whole purple ending. All in all, we made it through. It took about a full week and he finally cleared up.
Now the residue from the hives just seems to be extremely dry, sand paper skin. I don't know if it is caused by the hives or all the topical stuff we put on him, but he is dry and soaks up lotion like a sponge.
That is all. Thank you to all of those who kept asking me how he was doing!
14 March 2014
Poor little boy
Jack was prescribed amoxicillin for his ear infection. He took his last dose Wednesday morning. When I put him in the bath Wednesday night, he had a bunch of weird spots all over his belly, legs, arms, and armpits. They looked like chicken pox. I called the on-call doctor from our pediatricians office, sent her a picture, and she called us back suggesting that it was probably the same virus that caused the ear infection (and goopy eyes) that was now manifesting itself as a rash. She said it would probably be ok, but to follow up with the doctor the next day if it got any worse.
Here is his belly on the night of Day #1.
I checked on him several times throughout the night and kept looking at his skin with a flashlight. It seemed like they were about the same, if not better, so I decided to go ahead and go to school.
The flashlight must have lied, though, because when he actually woke up, they had spread. We drugged him up and took him to school anyway. Luckily it was the day I actually had a prep period, so I taught one class and then went to check on him. It seemed to be spreading like crazy and had changed forms quite a bit from the night before. I called the doctor's office, talked to a nurse, and then made an appointment to bring him in. I rushed to put some sub plans together and find someone to cover my classes, then got Jack and headed to the doctor. Our regular pediatrician doesn't work on Thursdays so we met with Dr. Barr, who actually checked Jack out in the hospital when he was born.
She said it was quite the case of hives and that it was most likely a reaction to the amoxicillan which could come on during any point while taking it or even after. She also checked his ears and found that his left ear was still infected. Great! She prescribed a new antibiotic and then just told us to keep him on Benadryl and ibuprofen.
Here is his belly on the afternoon of Day #2.
Once we got everything we needed (including a coke and fries from Wendy's a half hour detour sitting in the shade of Sugarhouse Park while Jack took a nap), we headed back to get Molly and go home. He seemed fine. He played around as usual with Molly and was pretty much his normal self. We gave him a bath and then headed to the grocery store because we needed a few things.
He totally melted at the store. We realized that picking him up and moving him from home to car seat to store, etc. was making him miserable. He didn't want you touching his belly or lifting him up by his armpits. James ended up taking him back to the car, while Molly and I finished getting the things we needed.
The doctor said he was fine. James said he was fine. We just needed to keep the drugs in him. We decided to try school again (mainly because the mother - who has extreme guilty mom syndrome about now - has missed 4 days in the last 3 weeks). The ladies at school are so wonderful and were totally fine to take care of him. In fact, one lady said it would be nice to have him in his benadryl-induced zombie state because he wouldn't be running around crazy as usual.
I went to check on him during my lunch (because I didn't have a prep period today) and he had had a pretty good morning, but after lunch was pretty uncomfortable. They had re-drugged him, but he just wouldn't sleep in his bed or relax without someone holding him. I sat with him for about 20 minutes and then had to leave both of them (Molly, of course, needed attention too) whimpering at me to go back to one more class (as if the guilty mom syndrome had not been bad enough).
Anyway, after school he was still struggling and was walking kind of funny. We stopped for Frosty's on the way home to try and help us all be better, which they did. Then, I decided that maybe a coolish bath would help. Jack sat in the bath for a good 45 minutes and played. He seemed pretty comfortable in there, though I did get the full extent of his hives, inlcuding his now swollen and purple ankles and wrists that look like someone took a baseball bat to them. Sad boy.
In the bathtub, Day #3
We sent Molly and James to get a pizza with my parents and Annie's family and Jack and I just hung out the rest of the night. I've never seen this kid hold still for such a long stretch of time. He has realized that when he moves, he hurts, so as long as I kept him relatively entertained, he just sat on the couch most of the night until he fell asleep.
It seems to have stopped spreading around and they seem to be either fading or turning purple (which I guess leads to fading). Hopefully tomorrow brings a little bit less discomfort than today for this little squirt.
09 March 2014
Anniversary #7
Part One
by
James
True Love, Happy Anniversary to Us. A lot has happened in the 7 seven years. Here is just a sample. Haley thanks for sticking with me through the good and the bad. I am glad your dad gave permission after waiting 2 1/2 hours to ask him at the yard. It would have taken even longer for me to gather the courage had I needed to ask your Mom.Then you said yes, even after my special plan for a proposal was spoiled. That was a rough day. Out of trials such as these, there have been many good memories. We are on to many more years and memories. I am thankful for a beautiful and loving wife. A good family on both sides, along with two cute and funny children. Who would have though I would be this blessed. Haley, thank you for all your support these last 7 years, and two beautiful children. I love you Haley, more each day. You are truly one of a kind. Happy Anniversary!
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