It's nearly 10 o'clock and it's been an especially long day. I'm checking in tonight to give you an update because I know so many of you are diligently praying. Thank you.
Yesterday was rough with Isaac not being able to eat all day. He was able to have Jell-O, 7-Up, Gatorade, water, popsicles, juices and broth. (But nothing with red or purple dyes.) His favorite liquid yesterday (and mine; I did his liquid diet with him) was homemade chicken and bone broth. We drank it from mugs like tea for lunch and dinner and it was the only satisfying thing. He was really hungry come dinnertime and then again this morning.
I'm fast-forwarding through the getting-there-getting-checked in process and taking you to the prep room, where we were sitting with Isaac, waiting for the new doctor to check in.
(Someone from the hospital had called early this morning to notify us that our original gastroenterologist had been called away on a family emergency and was out of the country, so he had called someone else in to do the procedure for him. I tried not to be stressed about that, and reminded myself that God was in even *this* detail; that this was not a surprise to Him; that this was God's plan. [I had previously taken some comfort because the doctor that was originally going to do the procedure had been there for several years and was the department HEAD, so that made me more confident in his experience and abilities.] But God is the head of all things, so I trusted Him in this change.)
Isaac was serious, thoughtful, wanting to move forward and get to the other side of this. His questions for the doctor (who we liked very much, by the way) were primarily centered on exactly what would be happening and how long it would take. Also, when could he eat and drink again?
Shortly after noon, we met the anesthesiologist and a nurse, and then we went out one door and I looked over my shoulder as they led him out the opposite door. I had a moment of tears because he seemed so vulnerable to me in that moment and I didn't know what waited for him on the other side of that door.
Mark and I had about an hour in the waiting room, where we prayed together, texted a few family members, ate something and people-watched. (A children's hospital is one of the saddest places to spend time in, and I marveled at the strength and courage of the parents and children we saw there today.)
Within the hour we were paged and met with the doctor, who had just finished up. He showed us photos (which were fascinating) of Isaac's esophagus, stomach and intestines. He said the procedure went well; that everything looked good. He said things looked "healthy and normal" by all appearances.
There were a couple of areas that looked like there may had been
inflammation recently, and there was one area that *may* indicate a pattern that would point to Celiac Disease, but he said
there were no real alarms or red flags.
I was surprised, because I wasn't really expecting that. I was expecting them to see something; to find something. But I guess
that's good? I'm still not exactly sure what or if that rules anything out,
necessarily. He took 9-12 tissue samples from the upper tract and the same amount from the lower, and now we wait until
the biopsy results are in, which will take 2-3 days. But we were
thankful for that report; thankful that there were no ulcers or tumors
or anything obvious that looked abnormal to him.
Shortly after we met with him, we were paged again which meant Isaac was awake and we could go see him, so we went and waited for the nurses to bring him in from recovery to us. He looked good. He was sitting up drinking orange Gatorade from a straw as they wheeled his bed in. He was much more alert than I expected him to be.
They didn't keep us long at all. They took his vitals, gave us discharge instructions and papers, we helped him get dressed, and shortly after 3 o'clock we tucked him into a wheelchair to wheel him out of the hospital, and then got into the van to begin our drive home.
And before we were even out of the parking lot he started throwing up. And he has thrown up probably 8-10 times since; the entire way home and ever since we've been home. Needless to say, it's been a very difficult afternoon and evening. He is more discouraged than I have seen him. He has been such a trooper through all of this; for so many weeks with so many painful symptoms and he has been unflappable, really, throughout it all. But he broke down tonight. And we are
all so very tired. My other kids are aching for normal, Mark and I are aching for our son and for some sleep. Our hearts are hurting so much for the pain he is in. I just keep praying that his body will recover from the anesthesia; that his stomach
will settle, and that he will sleep well tonight.
Thank you, friends, for your prayers and for your concern. I am so grateful for you.