Happily Ever After ?!?

I woke up the next morning expecting the "happily ever after" to begin. After all, God had blessed Christopher with an instant healing miracle. He was eating everything in sight and growing normally. His feeding tubes were out, and all the necessary surgical repairs had been made. In a few days the surgical sites would heal over, and 16 years of chronic illness and tube feeding would be nothing but a distant memory.

No bacteria aloud!

In order to insure against any nasty infection setting in and turning our dreams into a nightmare, the doctors had given Christopher LOTS of antibiotics. In fact he had been given antibiotics before, during, and after the surgery. They gave him IV antibiotics and oral antibiotics. They even gave him antibiotic ointment to put on the sites while they healed. If there was a bacteria lurking anywhere near him, it wasn't going to get past the antibiotic fortress that had been built.

For the next 10 days Christopher faithfully took his pills and diligently cleaned the surgical sites. The wounds were healing up nicely, and the surgeons were very happy with his progress. It appeared that the door was about to be shut on this chapter of our lives once and for all. That is until about day 12 when somebody stuck their foot in the door!

Antibiotic fortress???

The top tube (the Gastrostomy tube) looked great. It was completely healed over, and nothing but a scabbed over scar remained. The bottom tube (the Jejunostomy tube), however, was looking a bit angry.  It was red and weeping an ugly liquid. I checked to see if Christopher had a temperature, but it was normal. He said it didn't hurt, so we cleaned the site thoroughly, put LOTS of antibiotic ointment on it, and prayed for the best.

Despite our best efforts, we ended up at the emergency room later that night. Apparently, a bacteria had found a vulnerable hole in the wall of our antibiotic fortress and set up camp. According to the emergency room doctor, we only had two choices. Choice number one was to admit Christopher to the hospital and let the surgeons deal with it in the morning. Choice number two was to go home and come back in the morning to let the surgeons deal with the problem. Naturally, we picked choice number two, so the emergency room doctor loaded us up with even more antibiotics and made us promise that we would come back immediately if things took a turn for the worse. We agreed to the conditions and left the hospital for home.

The next morning I called the surgeon's office to make an appointment, but on the way to the appointment I received a call from the hospital wondering where Christopher was. Apparently, he was late for his surgery! This was certainly news to me! I had no idea that a surgery had even been scheduled. I explained this to the nurse who said there must be some kind of mix-up. I told her I had an appointment scheduled for Christopher at the surgeon's office, and that we would just work things out once we got there.

To our surprise we had quite the welcoming committee waiting for us once we arrived at the doctor's office for the appointment. The tiny exam room was filled with doctors, interns, and students all eager to get a look. The surgeon "in charge" examined Christopher and then determined that surgery was the only option. He explained that they needed to go in, open the site back up, clean it out, and leave it open in order for it to heal from the inside out. Christopher was less than thrilled with this revelation, and he made his discontent known. He wondered aloud just why they couldn't do it right here, right now, in the office. Clearly stunned, the surgeon reminded him that it would HURT A LOT! Christopher reminded him that he had a high pain tolerance, and that he just wanted to get this over with. Somewhat reluctantly, the
surgeon agreed. With the necessary supplies and personnel in place he opened up the site, cleaned it out, and put in some sterile dressing to hold the incision open. Christopher didn't move, cry, or even let out even as much as an "ouch." It was hard for me to believe, but he said it really didn't hurt that bad! I guess God really had blessed him with an incredibly high pain tolerance after all. The doctor told us that we could remove the dressing after a week or so. We left the office with MORE antibiotics and strict instructions for wound care.

Starts now?!?

Surely this was the end of it. Surely the antibiotics would do their job this time, and in a few days this would all be over. I sincerely hoped that this was true, but I was sincerely wrong. Over the next week or so, the infection didn't get worse, but it just wouldn't get better. That old familiar dark cloud felt like it was creeping over us again. It was beginning to look like another surgery was in Christopher's future. I couldn't help but wonder. When would our "happily ever after" begin?


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More tomorrow...