Now that we’re home, it’s tough to re-live the details of each day in the hospital. I really want to remember how God supplied every need I had at every moment, however.
Monday was a particularly hard day. It started with finding out that the team of neurologists and infectious disease doctors recommended a repeat spinal tap. Since the first one was taken so early on Thursday, the day he went to the ER, there was a chance it could have been a false negative. Doing the test again would confirm those results and it would also give the neurologists more information, as well.
So he had the spinal tap and it was as horrible as you can imagine for a 9 year old. Very scary. The sedation wasn’t enough to put him to sleep and he was red hot mad about that. But he doesn’t remember getting mad. We do, unfortunately. It was awful. AWFUL.
The good news is, he had NO side effects (as many were praying for) and the test gave the doctors exactly what they needed and it came back normal. There was a chance that he would’ve needed a Picc line inserted for 3 weeks of an anti-viral medication at home, but on Tuesday we found out that wasn’t necessary. His condition had improved so much and all the tests were coming back normal.
About 9:30 the team of 8 or so doctors and students came into the room for rounds. Rounds was always quite the scene – on previous days the doctors discussed the assessment and plan for Max out in the hallway, crowding the space with large computer monitors sitting upon tall, wheeled carts. The interns’ faces were hidden behind the monitors as they read or typed notes, we could only see the faces of the residents or attending physicians in charge. On Monday, they came into the room because they did a neuro exam at the same time, so everyone had to wear gowns and masks since Max was still on “containment” status, pending results from the lab. It was a very surreal visual, a scene that I did not like living through at all.
But on Tuesday, the containment procedure was no longer necessary since a flurry of tests results were coming back and the certain number of hours had passed since he was admitted. Tuesday’s Rounds were much more fun. It was then that we heard the chief resident say the words, “I recommend that he should be discharged today.”
And then the attending neurologist agreed and added more beautiful words, “yeah, he needs to be home.”
Tuesday was a good, good day.
He came home!
The fact that he had such a serious inflammation in his brain and only stayed in the hospital six days is a miracle. The next day he was laughing with friends, riding around on his scooter, building with Legos, and acting like nothing ever happened.
To God be the glory!
Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21 NIV
(Ephesians 3:20 immediately came to mind when I first got to Children’s on Thursday. It was when I walked into Max’s room on the PICU floor and noticed his room number was E320. I didn’t know what God was going to do, what the outcome would be, but that verse carried us through the darkest hours of uncertainty.)