You are currently browsing the daily archive for April 7, 2009.

First of all, many of you (with the possible exception of my mother, who believes that a run is always the right answer) will be pleased to know that I took a nap yesterday afternoon and saved my run for this morning, when the snow was only on the ground and not blowing recklessly through the air.

In more important news, Austin’s doing okay. Still no signs of an ileus (which is to say he hasn’t thrown up yet) but he’s only had a few sips of apple juice or water since Sunday night, so it’s hard to tell. With the first two ileuses (ileii?), he didn’t throw up until more than twenty-four hours after surgery. For those of you new to Austin’s story, an ileus is an intestinal blockage that commonly occurs after abdominal surgery. Usually, surgeons have to remove all of a patient’s intestines and then, when they’re stuffed back in, they develop a kink or an obstruction that prevents the patient from being able to eat . . . or drink . . . anything.  There is no treatment and you just have to wait for the twisted up part to slowly untwist on its own, which usually takes three to five days. Now Austin, because he is so darn special and prefers to do things his own unique way, had an ileus after his initial surgical biopsy that lasted seven days and then another ileus after his right kidney was removed that lasted ten days.  Ten long and completely miserable days. So, while the ileus isn’t a serious complication and poses no danger to his health, it is something we would really really like to avoid.

Meanwhile, he just continues to tough it out. He whimpers a little, but doesn’t really cry, even this morning when the nurse removed his foley catheter and had to peal a good ten pieces of tape off his inner thigh. People are always commenting on how tough he’ll be, and it’s true, he already is. He dives off things and lands on the ground without putting his hands out to catch himself first (sort of reminds you of a little boy named Kirk, huh?). He is the absolute opposite of his big brother who, while impressive in so many ways, is a bit of a wimp when it comes to pain and suffering. Mark and I often shake our heads in amazement and laugh at Austin’s ability to shake things off and bounce right back up after a huge fall.

But it doesn’t seem right to me. I don’t like that he has to tough it out, suck it up, just deal. He’s only two-and-a-half; he should cry when he gets hurt, he should fight back when some stranger appears in his room early in the morning to draw his blood. These are not things a child should get used to. These are not things that should ever become normal. It is not right.

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