Friday, May 25, 2012

The heart of the matter...

My Youngest was born with severe aortic valve stenosis.

What that means that his aortic valve was extremely constricted, as in, smaller than it should have been in comparison to the rest of his heart. As if that weren't enough, the valve is also deformed: instead of being tricuspid (having three "leaflets" which look somewhat like a peace sign), his is bicuspid (having only two). The valve is also much thicker than a normal cardiac valve (making it less flexible and thus more difficult for it to open and close), and it was fused on either end, resulting in barely a quarter of his aortic valve being open to allow blood to circulate through it.

This was discovered shortly after he was born. We'd no clue that his heart was anything but perfect. As a matter of fact, we'd been warned that one of his kidneys was longer than the other and possibly slightly malformed, and that was the only thing we were prepared to deal with upon his birth! The news that my son would likely need a heart valve transplant in his life was not easy to digest. It was a little easier for me to deal with the news that he likely could not play vigorous sports like football or basketball, although sports that weren't so strenuous would be a possibility.

We were warned not to let him get angry, for fear of triggering a cardiac arrest. I also had to bring him in for monthly injections of a special medication to keep up his immune system, and was warned to get my family's flu vaccinations so that he didn't catch the flu through us.

In January, after having three months of weekly checkups and EKG's to make sure he wasn't going to have a heart attack, the pediatric cardiologist, whom I'll call Dr. L, told us that he wanted to perform a balloon valvuloplasty on Youngest very soon, because the surgeon whom he wanted to have do the eventual valve transplant was leaving the country for a few months, and Dr. L wanted to do the valvuloplasty while the surgeon was still local, just in case the valve didn't work as well after the procedure.

January 19th, 2007--- Youngest and I checked into the hospital in Portland for the procedure. He was three months and 9 days old. I couldn't bear to be away from him except for during the actual valvuloplasty, so I slept with him in his crib.

To make a long story short (too many details for tonight's posting!), the procedure went much better than expected. The valve popped right open exactly the way they'd wanted, and there was only trace leakage through it. Dr. L told me (and has told me every time I've seen him since) that if he hadn't seen Youngest before the procedure and after, he'd never have believed it was the same child. I asked him, "Do you believe in God?" He looked me dead in the eye and said, "I do now!"

(I'd mentioned to him beforehand that I had many friends of all faiths praying for him: LDS, Baptists, Catholic nuns, Jewish friends of my aunt's, etc. The LDS missionaries had even come over and given him a blessing before we drove to Portland. I joked that because of that, his valve hadn't had a chance to misbehave!)

Fast-forward to yesterday.

I took Youngest in to see Dr. L for his yearly checkup. Although he somewhat remembers his wonderful cardiologist, this is the first time he's ever really been interested in what was going on inside his body. He lay still for the EKG, watching the ultrasound screen intently and listening to the sound of his heartbeat. He had no dread, no anxiety about being there, and he did everything he was told to do.

Afterward, Dr. L told me again that he was simply amazed that the valve opened so perfectly, and that the leakage was still only minimal (up from "trace" two years ago). He decided that we could wait two years this time before our next checkup!

Everyone has greeted the news with joy and celebration. Older Son, overhearing me talking to MIL about it, asked me, "So does this mean Youngest doesn't have heart disease anymore?" Eyes twinkling, I reassured him that his little brother's heart is doing fine.

I was a bit concerned before the checkup because SIL wasn't able to come along and see what was going on with Youngest's heart, because I wanted her to understand what exactly was wrong, and what should be done if necessary. Yes, I was preparing for the worst. Seems I needn't have worried.

Now I'm telling myself that my sons will be living with me again by the time we have to attend the next cardiologist appointment.

God is good. ^_^

Monday, May 14, 2012

Apologies are in order, methinks...

I just realized that I started this blog with the intentions of writing about my lovely home state of Oregon... and I've done very little of that sort of writing.

*facepalm*

My apologies to anyone who is upset by this--- feel free to ream me in the comments section.

However, I don't think I'm going to bother changing the blog much. Just consider any actual Oregon posts to be a bonus.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Mother's Day 2012

I think this is the first time I've ever not had to remind my daughter about Mother's Day... though I'm guessing her foster parents did. She texted me the day before to ask if I wanted to see a movie with her. We went to see "Pirates! Band of Misfits" It was quite delightful, actually, and DD not only bought the tickets, but also bought popcorn and a drink, both of which we shared (you have seen the price of snacks in the movie theaters, right?). She also brought me a handmade card and an iris in a "vase" (a water bottle). Very much my style, trust me!! I love them!
Inside the card:
I have to say it--- I really appreciate that she understands that I'm not perfect... and that she loves me anyway! She wasn't the only one who remembered, though--- Older Son came through as well, with a handmade card and a pair of pansies in a pot he painted himself:
Since Older Son was just recently diagnosed as being high-functioning autistic, I can now completely see his personality in his inscription. I love it, too! I don't seem to have a photo yet of the pansies--- I'll have to add it tomorrow. But the pot is painted with different colors, almost in wide vertical stripes, and the pansies are purple and yellow. Very lovely Mother's Day! I hope yours was, too! :D

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

I AM STRONGER THAN I THINK

My BFF, whom I often call Jubee, and I runned away to the coast last Sunday. I'm not sure it was the brightest thing for me to do, since I was (and still am) suffering from a cold which sank into my lungs and still keeps me from talking longer than five or ten minutes without trying to hack up a lung.

But it was definitely worth it.

We left at 4am.

We went to the tidepools just north of the Devil's Punchbowl, where we walked around looking for agates and sea glass, and then we plopped ourselves down onto the rock-scattered sand and sought the translucent stones that were hiding there. We've been doing this for our solo beach trips, and this is our favorite spot to seek agates. We stayed there from our arrival at roughly 6:30am until nearly 11:30am, and are still delighted with our finds.

Then it was time for lunch. Jubee has decided to make eating at Mo's a tradition for our solo outings, and since she's funding the trips, I can't complain... as if I would! Oddly, fish and chips sounded perfect for me, which is unusual--- I usually save that for a treat when I'm at home. But it was nearly too much for me, especially with a cup of their famous chowder, a side of garlic mashed potatoes and a slice of their homemade bread. I had a Widmer Hefeweisen to drink, while Jubee had her usual diet Pepsi.

Afterward, we had roughly an hour to kill before our appointment, so--- *yawn*--- I voted we take a nap in Jubee's van. She agreed. I'm glad cat-naps work so well, since I barely got half an hour's sleep before the alarms went off!

Then it was time.

I'd been anticipating it, dreading it, determined all day. The appointment had been made during our last beach escape. We were sharing a bonding experience--- getting tattooes.

Most of my family still doesn't know--- I've only told my sister, her kids and mine. But I've been thinking about it for over 20 years, and knew for the last two years what I would get if I did, so this wasn't a rash decision. I wanted it, and knew I'd be okay with having it when I was 90 years old in a nursing home (as Mom used to warn me to consider--- I think she was trying to convince me not to get tattooed).

As much as some people might argue with me, I needed this tattoo. It's easy enough to say I can tell myself that I'm strong enough to get through whatever trial is hammering at me... but it's not so easy to remember to actually tell myself that when I'm so depressed I can't remember to get out of bed. I need to be able to see these words whenever I look at my wrist.

The ladybug I added to remind me of my kids, on the suggestion of one of my fellow Ravelers. My Youngest is always hunting for ladybugs whenever we're together, but I'll never forget March 12, 1995, when my daughter was just three months old and I found a ladybug crawling up her face between her eyes, which were crossing with the effort to see it! The artist, Justin, freehanded it, and I think he did a wonderful job, adding shading, a couple legs, and even the shine of its shell.

While he was working on me, I told him the significance of this statement to me, and that it signified my determination not to let my husband's actions control my life any more. He thought it was a great idea, and suggested it marked a turning point in my life as well.

After Jubee's tattoo was finished, we went to Stonefield Beach, south of Yachats, where we had lovely luck last time finding larger agates... but this trip was lacking. Oh, I found some, but not even a third of what I found previously. Fickle, shifting sands!

We stopped at Taco Bell for supper before leaving Florence, and I got home around 10:30pm. I walked Lucy, who'd stayed home all day, then made a quick stop at the store for unscented lotion for my new tattoo, and was able to sink into bed just after midnight.

Yes, it might not have been a good idea for me to go when I was coughing so, but I bundled up, drank lots of fluids, and felt pretty good other than my lungs. We both agreed it was one of our best ever mini-vacations, and we're looking forward to our next trip, on June 3rd.