#4 – BMT Day is Megan’s fourth most memorable moment of her journey. It is hard to believe that her “Second Birthday” didn’t even crack the top three. But, it just shows how significant some of these memories are. Perhaps, for Megan, it was kind of an anti-climatic day after the months of treatment in Des Moines and the work up in Minneapolis. This day started out all about Noah - our little man, our hero. Our little hero had a rough day. I still feel bad for not having the right information, and not asking the right questions to prepare him for his day. We had discussed pokes – not Noah’s favorite thing in life. No problem they said. “We can use gas to put him out and then poke him.” Perfect! Only one problem. The transplant team needed a blood sample before surgery to type and cross him “Just in case.” Sitting back at RMH was the numbing cream, and no one was willing to round any up or wait the 30 minutes for it to take effect. With no Child Life specialists around, we settled for a cold soda can and when it was time for the poke, I distracted him with Clash of Clans on the IPad. This was one time when his preoccupation with screens worked to our advantage. With that hurdle behind us, it was on to surgery. We were told that one of us could be in the room with Noah before he was knocked out, and I volunteered. After wrestling into my paper coveralls, I followed Noah into surgery. Noah had been told what to expect, but his eyes got pretty big when he rolled into that room filled with people and machines. This was nothing like the procedure rooms at Blank. This was a no nonsense operating room, and Noah was the one being operated on. A couple of the nurses recognized Noah’s expression and went to work calming his nerves. Unfortunately, an overzealous anesthesia nurse hushed the room and placed the mask over his face. I was not impressed with the lack of bedside manner displayed towards an anxious nine year old. Regardless, he was out in just a few seconds and I was escorted out. We waited in the waiting room and got word that they had taken the marrow and were sending it out for testing. They needed to make sure they had the right amount and consistency (for lack of a better word). Finally we were told we could meet him in recovery. We had been told that he wouldn’t wake up until we were there. Guess what? He rolled around the corner eyes open, but not really with it either. He looked a little beat up, but you could still catch a glimpse of his dimples showing. His hips were sore and his throat. This was another important bit of information that I missed. For the surgery, they intubated him, and none of us were prepared for that. In fact, his sore throat was the longest lasting effect of surgery. That, and the two large pressure bandages that provided a bit of comic relief when they were removed later in the week. Once he came around, we were sent up to the BMT floor where Noah had his own room just down the hall from Megan. Noah got a small taste of Megan’s five week stay – complete with throwing up, hospital food (not related), and full control of his own big screen TV. He received gifts from the hospital and a super hero themed gift basket. A while later we were told that the marrow had arrived. It was quite a festive time, complete with ice cream cake and more gifts. Megan got to open up the IV push and the donation began to flow. Noah reluctantly posed for pictures, but couldn’t wait to get back to his own room and TV, which by the way was the radiation treatment room complete with lead lined walls and door. I joked that they thought he might be the Incredible Hulk! Next came my favorite part of the day. The hospital chaplain came by for the blessing. We all stood at the end of the bed and prayed for Megan. I was a blubbering mess of course. There were prayers said, and I said my own, silently. I thanked God for the miracle that was happening before our eyes. I prayed for the strength to continue to provide care for Megan - and Noah. I asked for forgiveness for my anger and doubts. And I thanked him for all the support that our family has received. The chaplain did a wonderful job, and I so grateful that that moment happened for all of us. After all the excitement, and a dose of Benedryl, Megan slept. This moment was captured beautifully in a photo taken by Tara. It could simply be called “Rebirth”. After a week of chemo and radiation to knock out all her marrow, Megan would be reborn with Noah’s. I was chided for using the word “lifesaving”, but that’s what it was. No one wanted to put that kind of pressure on Noah (and I still don’t), but at that moment, with her own marrow gone, his marrow WAS lifesaving. I had expected Megan to be in much worse shape than she was. I described this by saying that I thought she would be like a dry sponge, desperate for water. In fact, she was in pretty good shape at this point. She would “bottom out” a couple of weeks later. The rest of the day was a blur. Nurses and doctors in and out. Noah was discharged and forcefully removed from his room. Grandpa brought pizza, and we ate the ice cream cake. At the end of the day, Noah, Tara and I headed back to RMH and crashed, and I mean crashed. It was a long, physically and emotionally draining day. Megan’s new Second Birthday!
Posted on: Sat, 08 Nov 2014 23:53:37 +0000
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