"Buy me some peanuts......and Demerol...."

Flashback to April 27, 2005, before Everything Changed

“Mom, do you think you can try & get some Cubs tickets?”
“I don’t know, Jonathan, but I’ll try!”
Mom, knowing well that trying to buy Cubs tickets long after the “virtual waiting room” was history, still diligently goes online, clicks on July 14, and—GLORY BE! MAXIMUM OF 6 TICKETS, PLEASE – TERRACE RESERVED, ON FIRST BASE SIDE. Mom ponders: “Well, this will be part of our Vacation this year. We were thinking of going to Chicago, anyway!” Mom realizes that there was not even a game originally scheduled for July 14, so it must be Fate, again, that brought her to this Thursday after the All-Star Game. (There’s that Blind Squirrel Theory again).

Fast forward to 6:45 am, July 14, 2005, after Everything Changed

“Bye kids! Don’t be late for the train, and have fun at the game! Dad & I are going to the hospital for Dad’s port-a-cath insertion!”

One of Earl’s favorite snacks whether at a ball game or at home, was salted-in-the-shell-peanuts. In previous Wrigley Field visits, he would buy them from the vendor outside the park, saying they were just as good as the peanuts bought inside the park, but cheaper. At home, he had become used to the dry-roasted variety in the jar, but still enjoyed them. Today, instead of eating peanuts, Peanuts were on the sheets in the Pediatrics unit where he was taken before and after the port was installed. I thought I was not hearing the Pink Lady correctly when she answered my question of “where to now” with “Peeds” after we left the registration cubby. As it turns out, every occupied room in the hall of Rm. 212 in the Pediatrics wing contained an adult instead of a child. Cindy, our nurse, said these were the only vacancies in the hospital today. As I sat in the comfy parent recliner next to the rocking chair and jail-like crib, I stared at the knee-high blackboard mounted on the wall. Earl was trying to relax in a twin bed near the window while the first nurse attempted to insert his IV. After what seemed like a long time (to me) and an eternity (to Earl), she announced that she was not successful and would have to call someone else. Cindy was able to get the IV inserted after warming Earl’s hand with warm towels. I had told the nurses when we got in the room that his last pain medicine was at 1:30 am (this was OK’d by Dr. Klein’s nurse practitioner, Carole, even though the original pre-surgery instructions were “nothing after midnight”). Dr. Alkadri, who was going to do the surgery of the port-a-cath insertion, ordered a Demerol shot so they would not have to flush pain med into Godzilla with 2 or more ounces of water, which would have increased the risk of complications. He was to have “conscious sedation” again for this procedure, and the Demerol really relaxed him before the procedure, as well as managing his pain.
I was notified about 10:50 am that he was resting and the surgery had gone well. His blood pressure had been up a bit during the surgery, but they gave him a small dose of medicine which helped. We went back up to his “Peeds” room, and after taking his vitals, they said we could stay as long as we needed. He went back to sleep and I worked a crossword puzzle. We left about 12:30, to get home for his medicines and to get something in his stomach. The first thing he wanted was his pain med, then about an ounce of Two Cal. Unfortunately, he started a heaving fit, which caused water, medicine, and Two Cal to back up into his syringe, almost pushing out the piston. We had to empty it and were not sure how much pain med he actually absorbed. He wanted nothing else to eat, and after a while, took ½ pain pill, but no nourishment. The afternoon passed, with only water & apple juice, then a whole pain pill at 6:00 pm, but he still did not want to eat.

As I write this at 6:53 pm, I am slightly put out that we did not receive a call back from Dr. Klein’s office today. I had called them around 2pm advising of the successful surgery and do we come back to their office next, or when does he start his chemo? I know that Earl is only one of their many patients, but time has a way of slipping through our fingers and we need to catch and hold as much of it as we can. It will probably be next week before he starts treatment, with tomorrow being Friday.
I wish sickness and suffering could take a week-end break.

It is now 8:19 pm, and after another unsuccessful attempt to get him to eat, I am at a loss as to what to do. He got up to come to the table and had another terrible heaving, choking fit and then refused to eat. He actually weighed in at 116 today, after weighing 115 last Friday. I have NO idea how that happened, unless one of the hospital/doctor scales is off. I hope the water & apple juice that he had earlier today will prevent dehydration. I will try again in an hour or so, but cannot force it on him.

That’s all I can write for today. I feel so helpless.