Turns out, it was really something of a blessing to fly out spur of the moment in both January and April. When one knows what's ahead, there's a certain level of anxiety involved, mostly because of what's still unknown, ironically. This past week hasn't been very fun.
So for those that I'm not connected with on Facebook, Brandt has been de-satting a lot lately. His norm is mid 80's, but lately, he's been sitting in the low 70's with dips into the 60's. Blue spells, technically, except that they've become so frequent that it's more like he has intermittent pink spells (no exaggeration). Two echos haven't revealed the cause, which in a way is good, because that pretty much eliminates heart failure, but echos can't show you everything. They're a relatively vague picture, and the tech really has to interpret what's going on more by determining the path of blood flow rather than actually seeing what's there and what isn't. It also doesn't help that Brandt has gotten to the age where he doesn't cooperate. Lay still when he could be squirming around and chewing on things? Ha! Laughable concept.
The next chapter of that story sees us here, in Seattle, awaiting a heart cath tomorrow morning. We have no idea what we're going to find. Dr. Ruggerie is suspecting something to do with the pulmonary arteries, or possibly the actual Glenn connection, because those are some of the things that he really can't get a good look at, and the symptoms could be consistent. Best case scenario, they'll be able to fix whatever the problem is during the cath (new stent? ballooning something?) and just stay overnight for observation. Less than ideal scenario, they find something that they can't fix via cath and have to keep us longer for some other type of intervention (send us home on oxygen? another surgery?).
Obviously we're crossing our fingers that this is a best case scenario situation, but I've become a little pessimistic based on our last two stays. Brandt, as a matter of habit, does not tend to do things the easy way. Tomorrow will tell, though. We're first case, which means a check-in time of 6:45. Since we're staying at Shawna's for the night, down in Sumner, that means we get to leave at about 4:30! The things we do for our children, right? This is actually a very good thing, because he goes on food restriction at 2 a.m. (common practice, since he'll be under anesthesia during the procedure), so he'll be asleep for most of his fasting period. Kids that have procedures in the afternoon are aware of every meal they're missing. Try telling Brandt he's going to miss a meal, and you'll be immediately met with howls of displeasure.
So for tonight, we all enjoy one more night of normalcy before jumping back into the unknown.
So for those that I'm not connected with on Facebook, Brandt has been de-satting a lot lately. His norm is mid 80's, but lately, he's been sitting in the low 70's with dips into the 60's. Blue spells, technically, except that they've become so frequent that it's more like he has intermittent pink spells (no exaggeration). Two echos haven't revealed the cause, which in a way is good, because that pretty much eliminates heart failure, but echos can't show you everything. They're a relatively vague picture, and the tech really has to interpret what's going on more by determining the path of blood flow rather than actually seeing what's there and what isn't. It also doesn't help that Brandt has gotten to the age where he doesn't cooperate. Lay still when he could be squirming around and chewing on things? Ha! Laughable concept.
The next chapter of that story sees us here, in Seattle, awaiting a heart cath tomorrow morning. We have no idea what we're going to find. Dr. Ruggerie is suspecting something to do with the pulmonary arteries, or possibly the actual Glenn connection, because those are some of the things that he really can't get a good look at, and the symptoms could be consistent. Best case scenario, they'll be able to fix whatever the problem is during the cath (new stent? ballooning something?) and just stay overnight for observation. Less than ideal scenario, they find something that they can't fix via cath and have to keep us longer for some other type of intervention (send us home on oxygen? another surgery?).
Obviously we're crossing our fingers that this is a best case scenario situation, but I've become a little pessimistic based on our last two stays. Brandt, as a matter of habit, does not tend to do things the easy way. Tomorrow will tell, though. We're first case, which means a check-in time of 6:45. Since we're staying at Shawna's for the night, down in Sumner, that means we get to leave at about 4:30! The things we do for our children, right? This is actually a very good thing, because he goes on food restriction at 2 a.m. (common practice, since he'll be under anesthesia during the procedure), so he'll be asleep for most of his fasting period. Kids that have procedures in the afternoon are aware of every meal they're missing. Try telling Brandt he's going to miss a meal, and you'll be immediately met with howls of displeasure.
So for tonight, we all enjoy one more night of normalcy before jumping back into the unknown.
Thinking of you again! Thanks for the update.
ReplyDeleteLove you guys. ..pulling hard for you!
ReplyDelete-the Benedicts
I've got my fingers crossed that,it's the best case scenario for you and Brandt!
ReplyDeletePraying that you will get good results.
ReplyDeleteHoping all goes as good as possible!
ReplyDelete