The Awakening... Almost :-(

We cannot say enough "thank you's" to all who have reached out by email, voicemail or comments on this blog to share your support. What an amazing thing to be so connected with you all via this medium. It certainly makes the world feel a little bit smaller.



11:00 a.m.
Bridger began stirring during the night, so they had to tie his wrists to the rails of the bed to keep him from pulling on the various lines he is surrounded by. They are slowly weening him from the many drugs feeding into his body. He even tries to open his eyes from time to time and is taking breaths on his own. The nurse removed the leads that were connected to his heart through his chest, in case his heart needed any kind of a jump start. He didn't need them at all. They treated his lungs to break up any gunk so that he can begin breathing without the ventilator. It's a tricky, icky transition. He's right on track and showing all the signs of a full recovery.

On another note, we still have three other kids. No, they're not entirely forgotten. Their Omi (Todd's mom) is at the house with Dawson and Jayci today. Conner's in his last day of school til January. Jana stayed in a Ronald McDonald House room down the hall from the ICU and I drove home last night to check on the kids and do some business this morning. It's nice to have Mom here to free up Jana and me as we attend to little Bridger as much as possible. The kids are very excited to come to the hospital tomorrow and see their little brother. By then we hope many of the lines have been removed and that he is getting close to leaving the ICU.

3:00 p.m.
The nurse determined that Bridger has a slightly high temperature that may be due to an infection. This is a common post-op condition during the first 24 hours. They are optomistic that it will subside, especially since he's already on a drip of antibiotics. To be safe, they are conducting several tests on his blood and other fluids since we're a little outside the 24-hour window. More later...

4:oo p.m. Bridger is starting to breathe on his own! He still has the tube in until he's completely able to breathe without it, but for the most part he's doing all the work. Way to go little champ! We're still waiting for him to wake up a little more but he's taking his time. Maybe he's faraway in his happy place and doesn't want to be bugged. The nurse's tell us waking up is the worst part because he will be hooked to all these lines and want to move around and not be able to, but it's another baby step in his recovery process.

6:30 p.m. You know that saying, "sometimes life doesn't go as planned?" This is one of those moments. After the nurses extubated Bridger (removed the ventilator), his airway became increasingly more constricted, probably due to inflammation and all the blood and mucous that was building in his throat and lungs. This picture is what he looked like when we thought he was done with the ventilator. However, even with several attempts to suction it and to get him to cough on his own, they asked Jana and me to step outside while they re-intubated him. While it is a set back, they may be able to try again tomorrow, but more than likely not until Sunday. We're still hopeful that he'll get discharged before Christmas, but another day or two longer is still possible. Bummer. On the bright side, even though they had to "paralyze" him with drugs while he was intubated again, the effects wore off pretty quickly. He's awake again and still breathing on his own, just with the aid of the direct oxygen to his lungs provided by the ventilator.

7:00 p.m. On a rather humorous (and disgusting) note, we have come to personally understand the stereo-typical meaning of the term "hospital food." While yesterday's experiment in the dining room was less than optimal, our gastronomic foray back to the basement this evening convinced us that we shall never again step foot into the Children's Mercy cafeteria, unless our goal is something simple such as a soda, french fries or frozen pizza.

In my efforts to eat healthy, I took a risk. I ordered the tilapia and a side of mixed vegetables (from which I was forced to remove the evil zucchini squash that beset my plate). The fish was tough and, well, fishy, and the vegetables were mush. So much for avoiding the squishy texture of squash. Jana, however, was astonished to discover on her plate that not only was she staring at a pile of overcooked cauliflower, it was somehow staring back!

Upon closer examination, I was able to confirm that a roughly one half inch sized inch worm (apparently not living up to his name) had been unwittingly steamed into her side dish and had escaped the diligent inspection of the hospital's expert kitchen staff. Of course, she stopped eating. We were both in a mild state of shock, not quite sure just how to respond. On one hand, this poor, helpless larva was simply minding his own business, enjoying his natural environs when he was homicidally harvested and sent to market. On the other hand, we couldn't be too sure that Jana hadn't already consumed his closest relatives.

Of course, my instinct was to document the entire event. After all, would you have really believed us if we had told you the food served in a world-class children's hospital wasn't exactly sanitary? (no offense to the worms of the world) Let the evidence speak for itself! Exhibit A: I give you, the inchworm. Exhibit B: I give you, the innocent victim, caught unawares by her foul fare. She did take the caterpillar carcass back to the kitchen to inform the staff. The cauliflower was immediately recalled. Jana then settled for free pizza and... a salad?!?!?! Throwing all caution to the wind, Jana picked the produce that was most likely to contain an actual living specimen of the fluke's family. Oh well. With enough ranch dressing, any form of protien is pretty palatable.

The dead give-away that we should have steered clear all along was the writing on the wall. Seriously, I literally mean the writing on the wall. All this time we had no idea we were eating at the "Happy Ho."