We are Blessed!

Everything about today was different.  I slept last night.  I didn't have any panic attacks.  I got ready this morning without nausea and tears.  I didn't throw up on the car ride to the hospital, nor did I when I walked in the hospital doors.  There was a smile on my face, and a calm feeling in my heart.  I felt peace.  Do you know how long it has been since I felt a pure feeling of peace?  Especially in a hospital... on my son's surgery day... with a high risk procedure.  It was a miracle.  The only tears I cried all day were tears of joy.  I did not spend my morning on the hospital floor trying to throw up my heartache and fear.  Today was different.

We are so blessed.  Our family was blessed today by so many prayers and thoughts we have received by so many.  We are blessed by the special fast held for our family on Sunday.  We knew a fast of this magnitude could bring about miracles, and it did.  We are blessed by so much love and support from friends, family, and even strangers.  We are blessed by messages of love and pictures of purple pledging support for Jayson and his fight against Chiari.  We are blessed by the special priesthood blessings that were given to our family last night with promises of strength, peace, knowledge and love.  We are blessed by the gift of knowledgable and confident doctors who work in the presence of angels.  We are blessed with a son who is such a determined little fighter.  Today was special because we were surrounded and lifted up by an abundance of blessings.  

We dressed ourselves in our purple attire, took a family photo and arrived at the hospital in safety.  The road conditions were dangerous and we passed many seirous accidents on our way.  As we checked in, things went smoothly.  They had the right procedures and doctors listed on the paperwork.  The information I gave in the registration process was stored and retrieved.  I was prepared with a special "care package" for our doctor and anethesiologist this time which included a plethora of Mepore tape and a 3x5 card with special considerations regarding our son.  I tried my best to ensure there was no chance for failure.  No chance of using the wrong tape he's allergic to.  No chance of using any medication that might react badly to his apnea.  No chance of endangering him due to his C1 instability.  Today would go well.  I was determined to ensure it would all go well.  The doctor came in to see us and he reassured me everything would go smoothly.  He said Jayson is young and small;  he is younger and smaller than most children who have this surgery.  However, that can sometimes make the process easier.  He said that surgery should be simple and he does not expect any complications.  He also mentioned that he only thought it would take 1-2 hours.  I had previously been informed to expect up to 6 hours.  I felt so reassured and relieved.  I felt confident that all would go well and today would be a good day.

We met our nurse team and they seemed to be sweet, concerned and informed.  We met our anethesiologist who knew all about Jayson.  She was also confident, understanding and kind.  This time, my heart didn't ache as I handed Jayson over to the anesthesiologist at the entrance of the operating room.  I kissed my baby, held his hand, and let him go knowing this operation was going to change his life.  As I turned and walk away, I didn't feel like I couldn't breath or that my heart was ripped out.  Mike and I walked down the hallway, holding hands, with full hearts.  This was just what Jayson needed.  I felt at peace.

The nurse told us that we would hear an update from him about an hour into the surgery.  We spent our time perusing the internet our our iphones and ipads in the surgery waiting room, just waiting for that call.  I knew it would be good news.  An hour went by.  Then two.  I could slowly feel the calmness fading and slipping away.  I started shaking, and I was confident that if I didn't get an update soon, I would be spending the rest of the afternoon on the bathroom floor.  I started to tear up just as I heard the receptionist's phone ring.  I knew it was for Jayson.  "Carter's dad please!" she said.  I thought i had misheard.  I have a strong feeling that update was for us.  Just then, her phone rang again.  I'm pretty sure I stood up before she called Jayson's name.  I knew it was our update.  The nurse told me the words I hoped I would hear... Jayson was doing great.  His vitals were good, there were not any complications, however it was taking a little longer than planned.  They were just sewing up the patch for the dura and it would be another 45 minutes or so.  Music to my ears.  I seriously wanted to skip around the room.  Jayson was going to be okay.

The next 45 minutes went by much more quickly knowing Jayson was alright.  Our neurosurgeon came in the room and asked to meet with us in the conference room.  He explained that Jayson's surgery went just as planned and without complications or blood loss.  He was recovering and would soon be taken back to PICU.  He said his surgery was very difficult and challenging because things were very tight; much more tight than we imagined.  He said there was not any spinal fluid passing through at the time.  Once he opened things up he said it just poured through.  He expects that Jayson will feel much better after this surgery and it should really help him in many ways.  What a miracle.  I instantly felt confimation that we did the right thing and picked the right doctor.  I think we once again saved Jayson's life.

About 45 minutes later we were able to see our sweet boy in the PICU.  I prepared myself mentally for the worst.  In my mind, PICU is mommy hell.  It's full of very ill children, dying babies, and heartbroken parents.  It's a place of crying, screaming, and moaning.  It's a place of constant codes and never ending alarms.  It is literally hell.  I also prepared myself for the worst with Jayson.  He always looks awful after surgery.  Swollen face, closed off airway, loud stridor, dried tears all over his face.  But I was surprised.  Jayson's room was closed off from the noise, and felt almost like a sanctuary.  And he looked like a peaceful angel asleep in his bed.  No signs of residual blood.  Good skin color.  No signs of pain or anguish.  No swelling.  He looked peaceful.  It was a miracle.  He looked so good.  I knew this was yet another sign that we did the right thing.  We really helped our baby with this surgery.

Jayson slept all day long.  He only woke three or four times due to the pain.  He fussed, whined, rubbed his poor little head, and mommy yelled for more morphine.  I have a motto in circumstances like these... the more-phine the better.  We are trying our best to keep him comfortable, and it's working for the most part.  The nurses say this is a very painful procedure.  Tomorrow will likely be rough.  We have to start weaning the pain meds and forcing him to wake up and move.  I don't look forward to the pain tomorrow will bring Jayson's little body and mommy's little heart, but I feel confident that things will improve quickly.  This pain will be for such a little while, and the constant pain and pressure he must have been feeling before should be released.  And that's what gives me the strength to wake up tomorrow with a happy heart.  It will be a hard day, but it will be a good day.  Because we will be one day closer to a new Jayson.

We are staying in the PICU tonight and will likely be going to the neurotrauma unit tomorrow morning.  I must get some sleep because I doubt I will have a night this week to rest after tonight.  Thank you for all of your prayers, love, thoughts and support.  You will never be able to comprehend what it means to our family.  We are so blessed by your love and friendship.