The Roller Coaster Ride

      On Thursday Chris's surgery lasted about an hour.  The update from Dr Smith said that it was very difficult to get him intubated.   However the rest of the surgery went well and I was soon able to see him in recovery.   He was on bi-pap but breathing much better.  Because of the risk of bleeding, they decided to keep him overnight for observation.   Something Chris was hoping wasn't needed, but it was better to be safe than sorry.   Unfortunately it was a very busy day for surgeries and the hospital didn't have any rooms available.   Having a trach is uncommon and many area's aren't trained or able to accept a trach patient out of safety.   We take care of everything with his trach, but they can't make an exception and put him where people aren't trained to help in an emergency.  They said he likely would have to spend the evening in recovery tucked in a corner with the drapes drawn.  When he petitioned to let him go home, Dr Smith insisted that he stay and they worked harder to find a room.   There was a room available on the ortho floor, but they wouldn't take him because of the trach.  Luckily they finally figured out there was a patient on another floor that was actually there for an ortho procedure and so they moved that patient, then Chris got that room.   We finally got to his room about 11:30.
 
   Night went about how nights in a hospital go, not much sleep and an early morning with shift changes.  In the morning things with his trach didn't seem to be doing well and he wasn't able to get air very well again.   The ENT resident came in the morning for rounds and did a scope.  Sure enough even though the ties were super tight, it had slipped out of place and he wasn't getting much air through his trach.   The surgery hadn't worked.   They said he most likely would need to go to the OR again to change for another trach.   Having just had breakfast and OR time typically always requires fasting, we weren't quite sure if that meant we would stay another night and do the surgery tomorrow or have to return next week.  As a kid I loved riding roller coasters, but as I got older they lost their thrill.    Being on a roller coaster full of difficult medical challenges is a ride no one wants to be on, and this latest loop of made us wish desperately we could get off.

     A while later Dr Smith came in and discussed our options.   There were so many things to consider.   Because of the bone structure of his skull and a large tongue, his airway is very small to begin with.   In fact almost every time we meet with anesthesia prior to a surgery you can tell they are panicked about the complexity.   It's primarily their job to keep him safe so the surgeon could operate.   Needing a trach that was MRI compatible due to an upcoming MRI to check on his brain tumor limited our options.   Dr Smith proposed his suggestion and we debated about the pro's and con's, trying to know what the best decision would be to move forward.   We weren't quite sure what to do, so we asked if he could confer with Dr Brown, his pulmonologist (lung doctor).  It gave us time to discuss alone what we should do.   There was a lot to consider and a big decision.   Chris shared with me that he was confident in what Dr Smith and Dr Brown would choose.   A close friend had shown up on Thursday prior to his surgery while I was still at my meetings and offered Chris a blessing.   Because of what was said, Chris was at peace and it also gave me the peace to accept their recommendation. 

     When Chris was diagnosed with his brain tumor five years ago, it was like we were handed a heavy book with information to factor in when trying to make important decisions.   When he developed the tracheal stenosis because of the surgery for the brain tumor, an even bigger book was added to the pile.   This one even more vital and something we needed to carry with us always.   Not just for us, but also for us to educate others, including those in the medical profession.   So many of the people treating him were unfamiliar and afraid of a trach, we were too at first.   We often were educating even respiratory specialists.   Being educated, asking the right questions and being prepared with supplies for the trach has been essential in his survival.   The additional complications that came with the diagnosis of myeloma has added more heavy books to the stack and our pile was heavy. 

       A couple hours later after discussing with Dr Brown, Dr Smith returned.   They both agreed on the same treatment and so we felt comfortable proceeding.  Moments later the trach was removed.   Yes, you read that right.  Removed.   No additional surgery, no new trach.   We have been told on several occasions that he would most likely have a trach for the rest of his life.   In just one quick motion it was gone.   Dr Smith is astounded with the stenosis in his airway.   He thinks the treatment for his cancer could also be helping to soften and improve the scaring .   He didn't have to treat it yesterday and he feels comfortable with the tracheotomy closing and for Chris to return to breathing through his mouth and nose.    That heavy book which we've been carrying around for the past 18 months was suddenly and unexpectedly taken and placed back on the shelf.   Still there as a reminder for us to so carefully guard his precarious and precious airway, but miraculously not a burden to carry with us everywhere.     The wound will take time to heal as they do not stitch the stoma (opening) closed.  Instead they simply let the body heal on it's own which will likely take several weeks.  Relearning how to breathe normally is something he was constantly reminding himself of the rest of the day. 

     As you can imagine, it's quite a shock and we aren't sure when it will sink in that it really happened.  We spent the rest of the day thinking about how things will be different, and honestly easier for us going forward.  One obvious one, talking will be so much easier.   Among one other biggest improvements,  able to shower without fear of accidentally allowing water in his trach.   He'll also be able to go back to wearing some of his favorite shirts.   Last year we changed his entire shirt collection for ones with button up necks so that things weren't tight and irritating or blocking the trach.  We had contemplated trying to cut and sew many of them into a v-neck but had never had the time. 

       They got things rolling for discharge and eventually we were on our way home.   We picked up a prescription for an antibiotic as they discovered he had an infection.   Then took a nice nap at home.   Chris hasn't had a decent hair cut since last May since inhaling any small trimmings directly into your lungs is typically best avoided.   Being able to put a hot rag on his neck as I finished was a moment of pure happiness for both of us.  Today we are back at Huntsman for another calcium check and possible infusion.

        Spending most of the day in the hospital on our anniversary was obviously not our top choice of activities.   As well, because of the events of the past month we both struggled and failed to come up with a gift.   However one very precious and unexpected one was provided for us.  Celebration isn't always about gifts, fancy dinners or exotic locations.   Sometimes it's simply sitting side by side, holding hands and breathing. 


   


Just Breathe

    Three weeks ago when we reached Chris's birthday and he didn't need an infusion of calcium we thought the hypocalcemia problems were behind us.   That hope was short lived when the next week at chemo his calcium was low again, enough to need an infusion.  Despite the worry that settled into the pit of our stomach,t hat weekend we were able to enjoy a birthday dinner that my parents brought.   As well we also attended the light festival (where they launch lanterns into the air, like Tangled).  Chris works for the company that does the lights festival and it was nice to have one close to home that we could attend, it was a beautiful evening. 

     The following Monday we were back at Huntsman for more calcium.  On Wednesday met back with his team to start Cycle 6 of his current chemo.   They are perplexed by his continued low calcium and ordered more tests.   The Zometa should be out of his system.   For now they are thinking the low calcium is being compounded by very low Vitamin D.   It's not a quick fix and takes about 8-12 weeks.   He started taking vitamin D about a month ago, so low calcium is likely our companion for another month or two.  It could also be a sign that his brain tumor has grown, and so next week we are hoping he'll be able to do an MRI to get an update of it's status. 


    With the horrible fires this summer, the smoke has been made going outside tough and Chris's breathing more difficult.   However this week on Monday night things to take a sudden turn for the worse.      Chris was struggling and grasping for breath.  We tried everything we could think of and nothing seemed to help.   It brought back so many memories of early last year   He was struggling and fight so hard for something that is so easy for most all of us.   As we headed up to the main Huntsman for another calcium infusion Facebook popped up a reminder that a year ago today we were meeting with Dr Wong (the ophthalmologist) and a simple post that said "Please let it be fixable."  More memories of last year at this time and all of those struggles took my breath away.     The thoughts of last year at this time are never far from our mind, but this week they were smacking us in the face.

       His calcium was better, but still low enough to need an infusion.   It gave us time to make arrangements for ENT to see if they could help with his trach.   When we got to the ENT clinic and they did a scope, the problem was pretty apparent.   At the end of his trach is a growth, called a granuloma.   It's a collection of immune cells and the body's reaction to a foreign object it can't remove.    It's blocking his trach and rendering it practically useless.   One blessing, the stenosis (narrowing) of his airway is at least not as bad as it was last May, otherwise the situation would have warranted emergency surgery.  He's able to get some air through his nose and mouth, but he's adapted to breathing through the trach so trying to retrain his body to breath normally isn't easy.   During the day it's bearable, but nights are torture for both of us as he struggles to breath and I lay there listening to him struggle.

       Dr Smith was completely booked and the earliest they could squeeze him in was this afternoon.   This week at my work is our yearly manager meetings.   They are something I look forward to every year and I thought I might end up missing.   But with Chris's encouragement I went yesterday and this morning.   It was a blessing.   While meant as a uplifting work message as a manager, they shared this video about the importance of coaching.   The kind words of a leader just moments before talking about not being able to imagine the "load I bear" was fresh on my mind.   The trials that we are facing together are unbelievably difficult and we each are carrying a difficult mental, physical and mental load.     I am grateful to have so many cheering us on and because of others we have been able to go much further than we ever thought possible.   

      Today before leaving my co-workers/friends all gathered in prayer offered specifically for Chris, me and the medical professionals helping us today.   I'm so lucky to work for a place where this is not just a possibility, but was offered by my boss as something that they would like to do.   A room full of people, surrounded in love.    Sensing the tears streaming down my cheeks, an arm of support was slid around me.   It was a powerful moment that left not just myself and many other's in tear's.   More hugs were offered and I was soon headed home to pick up Chris and get headed on our way. 

      It really should be a simple surgery and Chris should be breathing much easier again soon.   There have been so many other messages of love today and we've been strengthened and blessed to be able to bear them.