A Boring Day* — Day 17
Breen had a nice, calm, boring day today… with just one small asterisk…
he had back surgery this morning.
Well not back surgery back surgery. He had a team of plastic surgeons look at the big scar on his back earlier in the week, and they felt they could go in there and clean it up today. Turns out the middle of his wound had opened up a fair bit, and there was some dead skin to clean up around the initial fix.
I knew this was going to happen, it was scheduled, but yesterday I asked the doctor if it was wise to operate a third time on a 600 gram micro preemie in the course of 5 days (especially after he “coded” in the middle of that same week!). I mean, I’m no NICU doctor, but, well, he’s had himself a bit of a week already.
She wasn’t concerned at all. She felt that if the plastic surgeon could knock this one out, the NICU team could leave him well enough alone for a while. Also, time was a bit of a concern as you want to close up that section of the wound before it tore anymore.
She did say that there was a bit of a concern because the procedure would likely take over an hour, but that anesthesia would be present to make sure he was asleep. Her concern would be if Breen’s O2 saturation started to drop, or he otherwise became unstable during the surgery the surgeon would have to back off, or at least hurry to finish his procedure.
Needless to say I was worried. Anesthesia called at 7am and felt that she needed to inform me that my son was really small and sick, and that this was a dangerous prospect and things could go wrong. I have a callous in the place where someone saying something like that would bother me. I laughed internally and thought first of all, I KNOW!!! Secondly, this anesthesiologist will get to know the Breen that I know; tough as nails, and there’s no way he’s going out on some measly back surgery.
He did not go out on some measly back surgery dear reader.
He was a total champion during the procedure, so much so that the surgeon could take their time to do it well, and got him sewed up tight. I later saw pictures, and he really did an amazing job. He thinks that Breen shouldn’t have much trouble with this injury long term, and is fairly optimistic that the scar won’t even be that bad. I mean, it’s gonna be bad ass, but not that bad.
Erin has gone home for the weekend to spend some time with Nora. Erin sacrificed so much to give Breen this chance that he has, and a big part of that sacrifice was lost time with her daughter. It was lovely seeing photos and videos of them snuggling and goofing.
I called Erin to tell her the good news about the surgery and we realized that she was having a girls weekend while I was having a boys weekend. (Erin joked that their weekend featured “hair cuts”, while ours featured “back cuts”)
We’re going to try to figure out how our dual lives are gonna go. It’ll be difficult to travel between Pocatello and SLC. Nora and Breen. ISU’s campus and PCH’s campus (Primary Children’s Hospital). Major 7 sharp 11 chords and a 19.5 Amplitude Measurement on the Oscillator.
Being here at PCH for 5 days has been illuminating. Breen really is in an outstanding place. The right place. The Portneuf NICU has some amazing people too, but the level here is so much stronger from top to bottom. To start, the nurses have way more experience with micro-preemies, which shows in their calm demenor when taking care of Breen, their intimate knowledge with the special care he needs, and their clear and sophisticated communication with doctors, residents, techs, and surgeons. Also there is a robust network of peripheral specialists who will give Breen better and more focused care. Already he’s received three successful procedures from surgeons who understand how to work on tiny tiny people.
Moving forward, Breen will be visited by Occupational Therapists, Physical Therapists, Speech Therapists, Music Therapists, Optometrists, Cardiologists, and probably more specialists specializing in things I’ve never heard of yet, who are experienced working with preemies and dedicated to early intervention and development of tiny people. This is such a wonderful collection of high quality resources and humans, which will give Breen the best chance at a full and unencumbered life.
There are of course so many difficult things left for this little guy to do, so many potential setbacks and dangers. But we stand on firmer ground than we ever have since Erin’s water broke, which is a weird thing to consider after the brutal week he just had.
I had a great day with Breen after his surgery. I spent the bulk of the day sitting by his bed, singing to him, talking to him, chanting with him, doing tehais and other rhythmic games, telling stories. I could feel his presence so much stronger today. Could feel him receiving, sensing, hearing, feeling. Most importantly, it was boring. Thank God, Hallelujah, a boring day! What a blessing. Here’s to many more. He looked so cozy and peaceful, snugged up.
The little boy Breen sleeps in his bed, growing alveoli, intestines, and neurons in his head.
Next around the corner is his recovery from all these surgeries. It’s typical for micro-preemies to get hit with delayed negative responses even if they do well right afterwards. We’re not expecting it to happen, but we’re bracing for it. After so many setbacks and brushes with death, it’s impossible not to brace for it. However our confidence in Breen, in our beautiful tiny warrior, is strong.
I talked with my dear Aunt Carolyn today about Breen and she mentioned that all the love and prayer from family, friends, and extended community reminded her of a quilt. A mosaic of support and healing. It struck me as not only a beautiful image, but an indication of a new chapter in Breen’s path.
These first 17 days have been full of battles, fights, scars, and flirting with death. Perhaps this next section moves more towards healing, light, love, and support. He still needs to fight, but he also needs to grow, be nourished, and be loved.
He was brutally extricated from his womb far too early, but maybe we are building him another one. A golden one made of love and prayer. A womb of healing energy, daimoku, meditation, and God. Providing him the pressure he misses with our support, our confidence, our faith.
And perhaps we can be boring for a while, leave him alone (“no more helicopter rides young man!”) and let him grow in peace.
