Keys

Later that evening we went back to Jeff and Jodi’s place; a nicely allocated parsonage on the hill behind the church. We listened to stories and shared a bit of our own for the better part of the evening.

It was enlightening to hear some of the history of some of these fascinating folks. And fascinating to discover how parallel are the stories of the Helpmans and ours.

The salt trucks had finally made their way down the road to our cabin. Maybe we could finally get our van up the hill. Jim and Judy were heading that direction so we asked for a ride to our car. But when we got there I realized my keys were at the cabin.

They graciously agreed to drive us since it was only less than a mile from their house. Good idea. We’d get to see the road conditions all the way there and have a better sense of how our van would handle it. When we got to the cabin I reached in my pocket for the cabin keys and found nothing. I’d left them in my coat pocket which I just realized had gotten left back at the Helpmans.

Jim and Judy drove us back to get my coat and then again back to the cabin. By this time it was pointless to have them take us back to our car and then drive our car back to the cabin. So we said goodbye and thank you and scheduled a ride for the morning.

As I was locking up the cabin before bed I made an embarrassing discovery… the front door had been unlocked the whole time.

Everett and Depot

I’ve been reading this book my dad loaned me called Bryson City Tales. In it are stories from a local doctor about the local people and places that add the color to the City. I felt familiar with Bryson through this book and so many of the scenes were just as I imagined them.

There’s a lady mentioned in the early parts of ‘Tales’ named Debbie (although, she actually spells it Debi). She still lives in Bryson and was our personal guide around town even taking us to her house to experience the view of all of Swain County and the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, stopping on the way to help a stranded dad up the mountain to get to his little girl waiting for him at home.

At the corner of Everett and Depot is a coffee shop, Mountain Perks. This is where the friendliest people on earth hang out. It took less than twenty seconds for someone to fill my coffee mug, pinch the baby’s cheeks and offer their seat to a stranger. I still wonder if it was all staged. There was even a real Cherokee Indian sitting outside talking about the weather patterns. They say it’s always like that there. And I discovered there’s no use in asking for coffee to go because you’ll end up seeing enough people to drink two cups of coffee before you can even get out the door. Guess that’s why they have the self-serve refill station.

They know you’ll probably be here for at least another cup.

Guayabidos and Front-Wheel Drive

We met Jeff and Jodi at the church. They pastor a group of people known in town as The Grove. The church parking lot was full of snow, pushed into small mounds around the perimeter. The front porch decorated in winter.

It was time for us to check-in to our mountain cabin and meet some friends for dinner. The roads hadn’t been cleared and our front wheel drive mini van was having a time with the icy-surfaced road. As long as we were on a flat we managed but we didn’t quite have enough momentum or the right tires or transmission to make the steep grade and tight switchbacks in this mountain town. So we rolled backward down the hill and parked our ill-equipped suburban transport in the parking lot of the church for the next few days until the roads cleared.

As it would turn out, this gave us the opportunity to get to know Jim and Judy a little bit better after our introduction on Saturday night.

Guayabidos is a Mexican restaurant just off Hwy 19. We met up with our friends there for dinner and conversation. And I met a new friend, Kerby. Kerby works at the Natahala Outdoor Center teaching folks how to paddle mountain rapids. I’m told he’s also a skilled guitarist. Most skilled guitarists won’t tell you they’re skilled. This is Kerby’s case. I actually heard this from other people.

Hopefully I’ll get to hear him play someday.

Blue Mountain Climes

We started the morning only expecting to see some snow once we got here.

Our travels began at an honorable time of day. We didn’t want to wake the kids and then have them grouchy the rest of the morning. And we didn’t want to impose on our sitters an earlier awakening than necessary. Still, we knew we had to make haste getting everyone ready and settled so we could launch out.

We had three routes suggested to us from three different sources. (I stopped asking after three because I didn’t want to know any more options.) The morning was particularly cold for Alabama — somewhere near 15°F. And the rest of the Southeast had seen the same; snow, ice and deep temperatures tackled Alabama, Georgia and the Carolinas for the past couple of days.

We hit Atlanta thinking it was likely the most travelled, and thereby the least icy. That may have been true but there were at least ten cars abandoned on the roadside from the ice and GDOT had only cleared two lanes. Fortunately, it only added about 20-30 minutes to our trip.

Finally, Bryson City.

Don’t Freak Out

We had our follow-up with the doctor today.

Everything is looking pretty good. She’s lost a little weight but she doesn’t seem dehydrated. We’ll need to follow with him again in a week to be sure she isn’t still losing weight. She still has a little junk in the upper portions of her lungs but she’s responsive, active and eating well.

The company I work for is amazing. One of the provisions of my benefits package is that I’m allowed time away to be with family in times of illness or other extended family emergencies (like this one). I have some paperwork to fill out. To this point the papers have moved between my agency and the doctor’s office. I got the papers from the doctor today but before he handed them to me he said,

“Don’t freak out when you look at these.”

Mmhmm…

There’s a portion in the documentation that asks the official opinion of the medical provider whether he thinks this condition could worsen. He says she could still have episodes of wheezing that, at its worse, could require CPR.

Well crap. Thanks for that confidence boost, there doc.

What else am I supposed to do with that other than freak out?

C’mon, man. Really. Haven’t we had enough drama? Let’s take a little break.

It is very rare that this could happen. But he wanted us to be aware. The best way to prevent this is to keep her away from any allergens; no pets, no mold, no dust, no smoke – no matter what. Or she could relapse.

Duly noted.

---

The boys and I went and finished up our Christmas shopping for Kelley this afternoon. They both grabbed the same thing at the same time. It’s pretty cool. I took it as a sign that if they both picked the same thing it must be right. So we got it. I think she’ll like it. They have pretty good taste.

Presents to wrap and cookies to bake and decorate. Merry Christmas.

But Sandwich

We’re home now, which is better than being stuck in a hospital. We get to shower and put on clean clothes, cook a meal and sleep in our own beds. We’re able to enjoy the lights on our Christmas tree and the garland stretched across the mantle over the crackling fireplace. We’ve watched holiday movies with our kids and kissed the grimy-faced little boys we’ve been apart from for more than a week.

But we’re not healthy still. Grady’s got a version of what Rosie has. Fortunately, it only affects toddlers mildly. Eli’s appetite is low and he has been a little sniffly. Not a big deal under normal circumstances but considering what we’ve been though lately, we don’t take anything lightly.

Kelley and I have both come down with probably the same thing. For us, it’s a head cold but with Rosie’s RSV in its history. We’re both getting better but it makes it a challenge to care for a baby with nasty chest congestion and breathing impairment, a toddler and a six year old with a cold and try to make Christmas memorable for them.

What you will not hear from us is complaining. No matter how challenging these days, we are glad to be at home walking though this together.

As most of you know, our family is the center of our lives. And for us, when we are apart we feel it. So to be together, regardless of what’s going on within and around us, is more fulfilling than any other option. Especially during the holiday season.

I know we still have a week or so to go before Rosie is actually cleared. She has to sleep elevated for awhile until we are certain her O2 levels stay in the safe zone while she sleeps. To do this she is strapped into a specially designed wedge that helps her breathe and keeps her oxygen where it needs to be. The problem is – she hates it. It scares her. And her voice is gone from all that she’s been through, so when she cries we don’t hear her. It’s heartbreaking, really. She wakes up alone in a contraption she can’t escape from and can’t tell us she needs us.

Best I can relate, it’s like the dreams I have where I’m being chased and can’t produce the sound from my voice to scream for help.

Last night, we put the wedge between us in our queen-size bed so that if she woke up, we’d be there with her and maybe she wouldn’t be so scared. But due to its size, Kelley and I each have less than two feet of space in the bed for our adult bodies. Which only allows for one sleeping position; I call it the coffin pose. Toes up. Hands crossed across the chest. No movement allowed. Some people may like this. It’s a bit restrictive for us.

We’ll work it out somehow.

We have become more aware recently how connected we all are to each other.

You and I.
We and them.
All of us.

Your prayers over the past ten days have been enriching, empowering and enlightening. We have begun to discover more of the richness of how our prayers connect us not only to our Creator but to the spirits of each one of you. Please know that we are deeply grateful for all the ways you have given to us. Not just the last week and a half but in ways that we are very likely unaware.

We are thankful. There is more good news these days than bad.

Finally…

We’re going home!

Thank you…

Let me begin with a heartfelt thank you to all who have taken the time to email, call and visit….when we know you’re lives are already busy with your own families. Thank you for bringing us food and for your generous gifts.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Those words are not enough, but they’ll have to do for now.

Rosie continues to improve and we’re seeing glimpses of our sweet girl. She sits up, waves, smiles and even laughs. Those moments exhaust what little energy she has and then she’s asleep…it’s a restless sleep and she wakes often from a painful cough or an alarm beeping. But, she’s healing. And if she continues to improve, we may be able to go home tomorrow!

We ask for your continued prayers…

Rosie has not been able to keep anything down this morning. She lost 10 ounces yesterday, so we pray she nurses normally and her weight remains stable.

Please pray for my mom and sister, who’ve been full-time parents to two active boys. And please pray for our sweet boys…we miss them beyond words. We see them an hour or so each day and take them to the Children’s Harbor to play some air hockey or ping pong. They grasp our hands tightly and want to be close. Yesterday, Eli asked if mimi could stay at the hospital so I could spend the night at home with him. He teared up when I said I couldn’t, but he smiled and gave me a big bear hug and promised to see me soon.

And then I cried in the elevator on the way back to our room. No one seemed too disturbed by a weeping mom…I guess that’s a pretty common thing around these parts. Please pray for our emotional well-being. Randall and I are physically and emotionally exhausted.

Thank you. We love you all.

Lucky Clichés

Only eight more hours to go.

She’s been asleep now for two hours.

No oxygen supplements thus far.

Heart rate is within the ‘Normal’ range for babies her age.

Oxygen saturation is staying in the mid-90s even in deep sleep.

They told us that we could go home if she’s off the IV (check) and off the oxygen overnight and for 24 consecutive hrs.

Only eight more hours to go.

I’m trying hard not to get my hopes fixed on going home tomorrow. Doc told us this afternoon, it will probably be Saturday or Sunday at the soonest. Said he couldn’t imagine that she’d make it through tonight without needing oxygen. I know he’s trying to be cautious. I can appreciate that.

Just before this posting, she started having a coughing spell that lasted a couple of minutes. During all of that, her Sats never dipped below normal and her heart rate stayed strong.

We’ve learned that her Sats drop when the mucus builds up in her lungs so that the alveoli can’t exchange the oxygen, and for a moment, that little area collapses until she coughs it up or it breaks free from the wall of her lungs. We’ve observed her Sats move sporadically and this is why. We also know that because breathing slows down when we sleep that less oxygen in being taken in and lends to have lower Sats naturally anyway. Pair this with gunky lungs that don’t allow oxygen exchange and you’ve got a sick little baby.

The way they are judging whether she is well and thriving is if she can exchange enough oxygen without needing the supplement. She’s been kicking some RSV butt all day since taking her off the oxygen and the IV at 8 AM Thursday morning.

Only eight more hours to go.

So… here’s hoping

Or maybe… knock on wood

Or… keep your fingers crossed

Oh… Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise (personal favorite)

Anyway. Doesn’t matter. We’ll know for sure in the morning.

Turning Corners

A few milestones from the past 18 hours:

4:00 PM — Got to go get our little baby girl ready to move from SCU.

5:00 PM — Moved to Private Room (in a new wing, three times the size of our original room, with windows that actually display the activity of the city rather than the flat static of a workroom closet)

6:00 PM — Rosie noticed the city lights and started ooing and pointing. The moment didn’t last long but I caught on video (thank you, iPhone) and will share the moment with you exclusively for our Facebook followers later today.

7:00 PM — Enjoyed Qdoba for dinner (it’s a small win, but it’s still a W).

8:00 PM — Tried giving Tylenol by mouth. She fought us most of the way and finally puked it all up. Back to the torpedo. (So, I count that as a partial victory.)

9:00 PM — Had to call the doctor because her heart rate was dropping to the point the alarms were going off. The win here is that he actually showed up, and rather promptly.

10:00 PM — Sleep.

1:00 AM — Awake.

[This pattern repeats for awhile. But at least we’re together in a quiet(er) place.]

8:00 AM — Doctor makes his rounds.

• takes her off oxygen (for now)

• takes her off IV

• takes her off monitor while she’s awake

• ordered EKG to check heart patterns following last night’s event.

9:00 AM — Real coffee (that one’s for me alone, I guess).

We’re moving in the right direction.