It has been almost three years since I have written anything on this blog--mainly because I couldn't get into it for one reason or another--also sometimes I think you need to take a break from sharing your thoughts and life with others and just be.
So much has happened since I last wrote a word--I now have 3 grandsons--all of whom are absolutely fabulous. Chris and I went to Hawaii on a trip of a lifetime. My son and daughter-in-law now both have jobs that allow them to work from home so I am not needed daily for childcare--although I still see these boys almost everyday (I'm not complaining one bit). We remodeled our kitchen, went on a family trip in the Navigator to the Grand Canyon, and many trips to Nashville to visit Luke.
January 18th we received a call from Luke's girlfriend Jess that he was seriously ill and had been taken to the ER at Vanderbilt Medical Center. I asked her to keep me posted throughout the day and I tried not to worry. Later that night she called back--freaking out and completely overwhelmed with the circumstances. I did my best to calm her down and assured her I would get to Nashville as quickly as I could--which turned out to be the next day and not until about 2:00pm.
Luke was in a motorcycle accident on August 31, 2013--4 1/2 months later he was laying in the SICU--surgical intensive care unit--consumed with infection and literally dying. He was on a ventilator and more meds than I can count or remember. The accident resulted in a compound fracture of his tibia and fibula of his left leg requiring a rod, screws and a bone graft surgery to replace 3 inches of his big bone. He was doing great and had even been given the all clear to start walking and return to work soon. Another thing he picked up during the accident was MRSA--because of the nature of the break and the accident being on a dirty road. The MRSA didn't show it's ugly head until given an opportunity to erupt throughout Luke's body and it did so with a vengeance. The MRSA led to necrotizing fasciitis--flesh eating bacteria--which destroyed the ankle, part of his shin, all flesh and muscle in these areas and all the work that had been done previously. There was still a chance that Luke could loose his leg but the doctors where working so hard to prevent that.
Luke spent 21 days in SICU underwent 7 surgeries--the last of which ended up being 9 hours of tiny vascular work to do what is called a free flap. The doctors removed a large muscle from his back and attached to his ankle, moved a bit of calf muscle over to the shin and scraped a good portion of his right thigh for a skin graft. This was intense to say the least and had to be monitored hourly for the first couple of days. At this time the doctors thought Luke would be in the hospital another 2 weeks. Because of the MRSA they were doing blood cultures almost daily to check for new growth--the infection grew regularly for the first two weeks and after A Lot of antibiotic therapy it quit showing new growth during the third week. One week following his final surgery he was allowed to go home. 23 days spent in the hospital total. I spent 2 weeks living in the hospital with him at first--I couldn't leave him, he was so sick and I was afraid that if I left him he might not be there when I got back. You see he was also suffering from ICU psychosis during the first two weeks. Not aware of much of reality. After he came home he was still having "foggy brain". The meds were strong and really messed with his mental functions.
This is where my story really begins. Luke coming home was fraught with stress and I wasn't sure I could do everything that was required to take care of him, things that professional nurses had been doing up to this point. MRSA being what it is, it doesn't respond to any but one antibiotic which has to be administered intravenously, 3 times a day for 6 weeks. Luke had a PICC line--permanent IV direct line to the heart--pretty much. His leg had to be elevated 24/7 for the first two weeks home, and his dressings had to be changed daily, he needed to be fed large quantities of protein--to help "feed" the skin flap--lots of liquids, lots of sleep, a bedside commode, a urinal that had to be emptied regularly, a wheel chair not to mention all the other meds he was taking, all at different times of the day. I had to take care to use rubber gloves when dealing with a lot of this because of the infection--no use two of us getting sick.
I had already moved into his old room prior to him coming home. I had been getting his room downstairs ready for his homecoming, shopping and cleaning. This is my job, I am a mom I take care of my kids. Jess and I got him settled in his bed, propped with loads of pillows and a fan blowing on him--he has always been a hot box! His IV meds would be delivered to the door, now these had to be kept cold--Rob, Luke's roommate had a small fridge in his room, so we got it moved down for the storage of the meds. The IV had to flushed, administered--which took 90 minutes--and flushed again; 3 times a day, for 5 weeks we did this. His skin flap literally looked like a turkey breast on his leg--it was huge to say the least--I was terrified of doing something wrong but I trudged along and did what was required to keep Luke on the road to recovery. Cleaning his dressings this took at least 30 minutes everyday. I took Luke to doctor appointments and would hold my breath until the doctor would say that things looked good--PHEWEE!!
Days were sometimes long, I watched a lot of Netflix, read a couple of books and watched Law and Order reruns. I cooked, I cleaned, I did laundry, I shopped. Chris came on weekends to give us support. We talked to Sam, Melissa and the boys--who up to this time I was taking care of them part-time while mommy and daddy worked--I missed these little guys but I had to take care of uncle Luke. We got into a routine and pretty much survived on doing what we had to do. My life revolved around Luke's care, I depended on the constant prayer support from the outside world--people we didn't even know were praying for us and we thrived because of it.
2 months to the date after I arrived I knew it was time to leave. Luke was done with the IV med, his dressings could be changed every other day, he was getting around on crutches and could do the private things without my help. Jess was ready to jump in and take care of the things he couldn't do. Friends were around to take him out of his apartment and into the real world. I couldn't wait to get back home but I cried almost the entire drive because so much of my life had changed, not only for the last two months but permanently. My son, my baby almost died--this will always be a part of me--I have never been more helpless or terrified as I was those weeks in the hospital. I had to let go of the control I had while I was his sole care giver.My grandsons had gotten a little bigger and #3 was closer to arriving. My mom had taken care of my puppy for this entire time and he did fine. Sleeping in a real bed was a blessing I never thought I would think about--I'd been sleeping on a twin mattress on the floor. It took me a couple of weeks to feel normal in my own home again. I cried almost daily just thinking about what had happened.
So, after this long drawn out post, you're asking, What did you learn?? Life is fragile but it is also worth fighting for. It can change in an instant or it can be monotonous for long periods of time--hope for monotony. You can take care of your sick child no matter what. He is your child, you will fight like hell and jump in the deep end to do what is required to keep him alive. You are capable because you love, you are capable because you gave life to this child, you are capable because you have more support from others than you ever imagined, you are capable because God has equipped you as a parent. But most importantly you are capable because you are!!
