TLOF003: This Life Of Faith “Steven’s Story Completed” or “So Much For Which To Be Thankful!”
As I record this, it’s Thanksgiving Eve, and this is without a doubt, the most special Thanksgiving my family has ever had. I’ve been telling you about what happened to my son, Steven. Today I will finish the story and talk a bit more about this life of faith.
So today I’m just going to pick up where we left off last week.
My Son’s Story Concludes
It’s now Steven’s twelfth day in the hospital, January 20th. His fevers have not gone away, and the tube that was inserted through his ribs into the area around his right lung has produced very little fluid. Also his red blood count keeps dropping. The three different antibiotics are still running twenty-four hours a day, and the picc line is still giving him his only nourishment.
Now it looks like the incision, which runs from just below his sternum to just above his pubic bone, has become infected. Dr. Ha has had to remove all the staples, except for a few around his navel, so that the wound can be cleaned. This means that it will have to heal from the bottom up, or put another way, from the inside out. The staples were removed without anesthesia, and once the wound was opened, it was, is at the widest part, about 3 1/2” wide and 2” deep. There were areas of dead tissue and infection, and a couple of places where the bowel was very close to coming out, or eviscerating. As Steven’s dad, watching the doctor poke and prod the wound to evaluate the situation was almost more than I could take. It was obvious that every time the doctor touched the wound it shot pain through Steven, but I knew it had to be done. The wound is packed with gauze, and four times a day the gauze is changed out. Of course, the gauze adheres to the tissue as it absorbs the fluids that seep from the wound, and when it is removed it causes a great deal of pain.
At this point, Steven is truly my hero, because he is beyond brave as he endures all of this. Only one time during this entire ordeal have I heard him say, “Why am I going through this, God?” His faith has remained steadfast.
And I have begun to feel a bit like Job. But I’ll talk about more after I complete Steven’s story.
On this day, after working on the wound, Dr. Ha said that Steven might be able to go home in a couple of days if Steven begins to improve. He really wants to get him out of the hospital. It’s easier to get really bad infections in a hospital that at home, and he knows that Steven will get better rest at home.
But the next day, Steven’s fever goes back up to 103, and he has a rash all over his body. And of course, the packing on the incision is changed four times a day. Steven is becoming really discouraged at this point. It’s obvious that he won’t be released tomorrow.
Two days later, after looking really good in the morning, by the afternoon his fever again spikes to 101, and a chest X-ray shows fluid around his lung again.
I posted on my Facebook timeline “As for me and my house… We. Will. Serve. The Lord!” By now I am becoming increasingly aware of the fact that this entire episode is an attack from the enemy. I know that my commitment to the Lord is being tested, and I am determined now more than ever, to cling to my Creator. More on that later.
Also on this day, it’s now January 23rd, the wound treatment was changed. Instead of doing the gauze thing four times a day, an apparatus called a “Wound Vac” was brought in. Without going into all the details, I’ll just say that a special type of foam rubber is fitted into the wound, and then a vacuum is applied. What this does is help draw out any infection, but more than that, it stimulates blood circulation to the area, speeding up the healing process. Also, the dressing only has to be changed three times a week. The process of changing is extremely painful, however, so three different pain killers are necessary, including morphine. He’s pretty much asleep during the procedure.
Steven’s Out of the Hospital!
On the morning of Saturday the 26th, it looked like we would be taking Steven home. He was more than ready to get out of the hospital. He was tired of nurses coming in every two hours to take his vitals, he was tired of seeing people check into the bed next to him and then be released before him, some of whom were loud and/or out of their minds, and most of all, tired of being told he would be going home in the next day or so only to be disappointed with a setback. But in the afternoon, we were yet again told, “Not today.” This time it was because of red tape. Seems they couldn’t find a home care group who were willing to take on Steven’s case. I have to confess that We pretty much went ballistic on our case worker. It seems that she hadn’t even tried to set up the home care arrangements until that day, when it had been known now for three days that this would be necessary. And she waits until Saturday to try to set this up? A weekend? We were livid, and Steven finally boiled over. Pretty much the entire floor heard his reaction. He felt as if he was in prison, and he was so sick and tired of seeing the same four walls of his room, of laying in the same uncomfortable bed, of being poked and prodded every two hours, of the noise of the hospital, of getting no fresh air, of hearing “You’ll be home soon.” I didn’t blame him a bit. But later, he apologized for his outburst.
All along the way, we were posting Facebook updates and letting our church community know what was going on with Steven, and I know that the prayers that went up for us definitely helped us through, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Steven’s fevers have not gone away, they still spike to 101, 102 and even 103, but the consensus of the doctors seems to be that if they keep the heavy-duty antibiotic IVs going and treat the fevers with Motrin, eventually whatever is causing the fevers will give up. The infectious disease doctor does insist on a final test before releasing Steven, but finally the tests are complete and home care arrangements are made, and on Tuesday, January 29th, Steven is released from the hospital. It’s been 21 days since we nearly lost him, but our boy is home. He still has an open wound, he still has IVs running 24 hours a day, he’s 40 pounds lighter than he was when he got sick, he’s barely able to walk, he has an ileostomy that needs care, but he’s alive and on the mend.
LeeAnn and I are trained by the visiting nurses how to change Steven’s IVs. The longest time between changes is five hours, with most changes taking place at two hour intervals, so we’re on duty pretty much 24/7 for the month that the IVs are needed.
The wound vac is a part of Steven’s life for a total of nearly three months. Slowly, the procedure becomes less painful and fewer drugs are needed to dull the pain.
Finally, Dr. Ha tells us that the wound vac has done all that it can, and just like that, it’s gone. The wound is now only about five inches long and only a few millimeters deep. And now it’s time to talk about the next surgical steps.
Steven can live with the ileostomy for the rest of his life, if he wants. Many people live nearly normal lives with them. The bag, or appliance, just becomes a part of their daily routine. But Steven is only 21 years old, and there is a procedure that can be done that will restore him to being able to eliminate waste normally. In layman’s terms, part of the small intestine can be made into what is called a J-pouch, which will sort of take the place of the now absent colon.
And here is where my respect and admiration for Dr. Ha went from an already high level, right up to the stratosphere. He told us that he could do the procedure, but that he had not yet done one, and it was very complex. He didn’t want to make a mistake on Steven, especially since he was so young. He suggested we find a specialist, and he gave us some recommendations. Now, being a young surgeon, I’m sure that there was a part of him that would have loved to do the surgery so that he could have it for his resume’, and of course, surgeons in general have a very high opinion of themselves. But Dr. Ha put all of this aside in order to give Steven the very best chance of living a normal life. I love Dr. Ha, and I thank God that he was Steven’s doctor.
So the surgical process actually involves two surgeries. The first procedure is to build the J-pouch and connect it to the anus. Then about six weeks is needed for the tissues to heal, before allowing the waste to go through. So the ileostomy is still functioning during this healing time. Then, six weeks after that surgery, all the plumbing is hooked up, the ileostomy is closed up, and you’re done.
God led us to UCI Medical Center’s Dr. Steven Mills, who is the chief of the Colon & Rectal Division of their school of medicine. He, too is a young doctor at only 40 years of age, but after doing our due diligence, I believe him to be one of the best specialists in the country in this field.
So Steven had two more hospital stints in 2013, but they went without a hitch. Obviously, Steven was much healthier, because he wasn’t fighting ulcerative colitis any longer, and his insides had not just been bathed in poisons from his perforated colon.
Dr. Mills and the staff at UCI Medical center were awesome. The surgeries that Dr. Ha rightfully described as complex, were routine for Dr. Mills and the gang at UCI. They do them many times per week. It felt so good to be in their care.
Steven’s recovery ended up being faster than we expected. When this chapter began, Dr. Ha told us that the entire process, with all the surgeries and recovery times, would probably take ten months. That would have meant that Steven would be able to return to normal life in about November. As it turned out, his first day back to work was on September 21, and at his last checkup, a week after his last surgery, Dr. Mills told Steven, “I’ll see you in a year.”
As I record this,
