Date Recall

I'm sure most of us can recall the date of birthdays, wedding anniversaries or other major milestones in our lives.  But do you ever look at the calendar and recall other events in your life?

I've already mentioned that each December 31st I remember I found out I was pregnant with Taylor.  April 19th was the day my whole world changed by hearing the words "Your baby has what is called a congenital diaphragmatic hernia".  February 3rd is the date of when Taylor finally came home from the hospital after being there for 5 1/2 months.  And then there is February 16th.

Seven years ago on February 16th, the nurse and I just finished giving Taylor a bath.  My daughter, then just 6 years old, asked if she could hold Taylor while we moved his ventilator from his bedroom into the living room for a change of view.  While we were moving the equipment, Dani commented that he had started to cry.  Ok, no reason to panic because that had happened before.  Then she said that he looked kind of funny...maybe even a little blue.

I remember the nurse springing into action as though it just happened minutes ago.  She gently took Taylor and put him on the floor while calmly telling me to get the oxygen tank from his room.  I grabbed the oxygen cart with the ambu bag attached, turning on the oxygen as she bagged him and calmly talked to him.  We could hear the oxygen, but it didn't seem to be working.  We soon found out that there were two bags, but, of course, only one was attached to the oxygen.  Working swiftly the nurse bagged him while I put the oximeter on his foot.

What terror ran through my body when I realized his oxygen level was in the mid-30's and dropping.  Should I call 911?  Should I call my husband?  The thoughts were running through my mind while I fought back the tears and the urge to yell at Taylor to pink back up.  The level hit 30 and then slowly started to creep back up.  All this time the nurse kept doing her job of  bagging him and calmly talking to him as though this was an every day occurrence for her. Just as quickly as it started, we were back to a pink smiling baby.

It was a day I will never forget.  It is a day my daughter will never forget.  After recently running into the nurse I found out it is a day she will never forget.  We found out that it was her first emergency ever.  She had never had to do anything like that before, but the way she handled herself sure made you think she did it all of the time.  For that I am eternally grateful.

What dates do you remember?

 

Yet Another Scar

A little over a week ago it was about 50 degrees and sunny here in Minnesota.  The snow was starting to melt so you could finally see over the snowbanks once again.  What a great day!

On Sunday I told the kids to put on their winter clothes so they could go outside and play.  With the snow melting, it was great weather for making a snow fort while I chipped away at the ice building up in the gutters of our house. 

The three of us had been outside for a few hours when I noticed Taylor and the neighbor boy playing on top of the snowbank.  I told them they should get down since the snow was getting pretty slick.  I no sooner walked across the street and back up the ladder when I heard my daughter scream Taylor's name.  He slid down a different snowbank, head first onto the sewer grate below.  He was crying, but who wouldn't be after an accident like that?

I calmly walked across the street to get him and bring him home.  I told him that I had warned him about being up there.  I tried to calm him down, but to no avail.  When he got into the house, I called for my husband to come help get Taylor's wet clothes off of him.  Then I started to take the hat off and saw a trickle of blood.  It was no longer a call to my husband, but an all out scream for help.

We quickly got cleaned up and headed to Urgent Care.  Turns out that Taylor had a 3cm gash at the top of his head that required three staples.  Yet another scar. 

When people saw the stitches they would make comments  that boys like scars.  Scars show character.  Scars are "manly". 

This makes scar number 15 for my little guy.  To me his scars are a constant reminder of what he has been through. A reminder to be grateful that I have my little guy, because 50% of the parents with the same birth defect don't have that ability.  A reminder of our journey that didn't end when Taylor left the hospital or even when he was decannulated.  A reminder of why there is CDH and why we need to raise awareness.

That Ah-ha Moment

Have you ever wanted to do something that would make a difference, but feel like you are just spinning your wheels?  Your try and try and wonder if you aren't going anywhere because you aren't trying hard enough or doesn't anybody really care?  Then along comes the Ah-ha moment when you realize you are making a difference.  That happened to me today.

I know that I promised that I would try to keep this blog up-to-date, be much more diligent about writing.  Then I became a little depressed.  Did anybody really care about what I was writing?  Was anybody really reading it?  I admit that I took a little break to wonder if I was doing the right thing or not.  Why was I wanting to be a part of CHERUBS?  Was it really where I was suppose to be? 

Then Dawn, the founder of CHERUBS, sent out a video about the volunteer responsibilities.  That desire to help out was renewed a little bit.  I wasn't doing my responsibilities like I should have and I was feeling guilty.  I checked my e-mails only to find three responses from the letters that I had written to the CHERUBS members.  Each of them told me their story and how they would like to help out in MN!  How great is that?  That desire to help out is burning much greater now. 

I have once again realize why I am volunteering.  I want to make a difference.  I am making a difference.  I will make a difference in the future, but only by doing what I am suppose to be doing.  Even when I don't see immediate results, I know that I AM making a difference.