Tag: UK Children’s Hospital

Faith Journey, Medical Issues, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

A Journey of Healing

Barefoot Faith Journey

A Journey of Healing

A Journey of Healing

I will only discuss this last leg of our journey as we step out of our finite “reasonable” box and into infinite faith.

Hope

Our journey is hard to explain without sounding like I live on another planet. So trust that God is good even when we don’t understand. That with Christ, all things are possible. HOPE. Here is a taste of what the Lord has been showing me.

Several years ago, my friend shared the story of her daughter’s journey with Lyme disease and how this place, this whack-a-doo treatment, and faith saved her daughter’s life. She tried to explain it to me, but I had no clue what she was talking about, so I listened, asked questions, and rejoiced in her daughter’s healing.

I have mentioned this place to several friends, who struggle with autoimmune issues, and I just put a bug in their ear, and then I give them Les’ number. Take the middle man out of it. I praise Jesus every January because that is when Les and her family stepped out on faith and tried something different than traditional medicine.

June 6, 2017

When H woke up from his nap on June 6, 2017, our lives changed forever. Our first dx was from a local hospital. In reality, a chigger should not EVER go there, but whatever. They diagnosed H with Strep, though he tested negative. “Give him these antibiotics, and he will be fine in 10 days.”

Uhm, did you get your degree from a Cracker Jack Box?

He cannot walk.

Hospital 2

We left and immediately drove to a children’s hospital out of state. We stayed there for several hours and then got the second dx. They said he had Cerebellitis. It is a common diagnosis when a child presents with the symptoms he presented with when we got there. The dr said it would run its course (virus type thing), and he should be better in 10 days.

Yep. That did not sit well with me.

 So, we made some calls to a friend who worked for a Neuro. Another friend has boatloads of experience with Neuros because her daughter has TM. Also, we talked to our parents and my sister (H’s Mamaw). Then we decided to take him to a different children’s hospital and see if that neuro agreed with the first neuro.

Hospital 3

We came home, spent the night, and then I got up early with H and headed to another hospital, alone, genuinely thinking this neuro would agree with the last neuro. Yep, that didn’t happen.

That was the beginning of our worst nightmare.

It is so easy to praise God when all is good in the world. When things are running smoothly, and all things are moving and grooving in a good flow. I picture my family and me sitting around a campfire singing Kumbaya. Then, you see your fire starting to go out, and it is getting cold outside, and you are frantically searching for anything and everything you can burn to get that fire back.

Before you know it, a bird flies overhead and pees on your ember. Your flame is gone, and you are sitting there, cold and in the dark. You think it can’t get much worse but have eaten that last s’more. Now you have no heat, light, or food. It is doable, sucky, but doable. Then the monsoon hits, and you feel like you will never be out of this space, and your fire will never come back.

Offical “Clinical” Diagnosis

Our official clinical diagnosis was made at another hospital. Sadly, there is no definitive test you can do. There is no amount of MRIs, LPs, blood work, X-rays, or EEGs. Nothing can officially say this is what you have. It is a combination of symptoms and what they equal up to after you test for everything else on the planet.

Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome was 1 in 10 million. Once this diagnosis took hold, I did TONS of research. I joined a wonderful online support group and received encouragement and a wealth of information.

Protocol by Dr. Frank Pranzetelli

We started high-dose steroids while hospitalized. We also started our first of many IVIG treatments. IVIG was done monthly. Closely following coming home (in the hospital for about 12 days), we start Rituximab (a type of chemo). The total on that was about four treatments. Since those were not working, we moved to add in ACTH. Acthar (ACTH) is a shot that we give him daily. It is another type of steroid. We did this for about three mths. All this did was to MAGNIFY his rage, insomnia, and severe OCD tendencies. My sweet little boy was not there anymore. He was like a raging animal that always stayed in a fight or flight mode.

Second Opinion

I was getting a second opinion without permission! Dr. Lightner answered so many of my questions. She was open, honest, and forthright, and in-my-face wording helped me immensely. Dr. Lightner was a breath of fresh air, though I did not care what she said.

 She stated that H’s condition was more progressive. Dr. Lightner did not see the ocular flutter, which, to her, ruled out OMS. She wanted to run all the tests again. The previous test had been a year ago. Note that she was wrong. He did have OMS. H was assessed correctly and diagnosed at UPMC in Pittsburgh by the amazing Dr. Kavita Thakkar.

Part 2: Have You Ever Tried to Nail Jello to a Wall?

 All tests returned the same, and while he was at the hospital, the ocular flutter reappeared, making her believe that it was OMS (confusing, I know). So, in the end, we felt confident in this “clinical” diagnosis. She said, in her opinion, she would try the protocol again, but that is something I needed to discuss with our regular neuro, as she was confirming a diagnosis.

Zebra versus Okapi

In the medical field, a ZEBRA means an unlikely diagnostic possibility. It comes from an old saying used in teaching medical students. These students are taught how to think logically regarding the differential diagnosis: ‘When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras.’ H was not a horse. We THOUGHT he was a zebra. Then, we discovered that he is NOT a zebra. He is an Okapi (incidentally my all-time favorite animal). They are incredibly rare.

 Unconventional Treatment

As we were finishing up an “unconventional” treatment plan for our son, we decided to give our family a bit of respite—SonRidge Health and Healing Center in St. Augustine, Florida. Dr. Marty Monahan took over the business with Jack Garvy retired.  

I have 11 people in my immediate family. Everyone is going in a different direction. We have one struggling with depression, one planning her life, and one who can’t keep her head above the waves. There is one who is ready to launch, one whose deficit and valley get larger and larger, and one who is stepping into puberty. Then there is the one who can either walk or not walk based on any given day and circumstances.

Add that to a mentally exhausted mama, an overworked daddy, and a strained marriage, and you see that we all needed new scenery.  5 Days After my Son’s Treatment.  

This Happened: My Boy is WALKING

My Boy is WALKING after three intensive days of therapy. I can’t even adequately verbalize my emotions. Amazingly, I watched him stand up by himself. As a result, this was a moment I will never forget. Then, because He is incredible, he RUNS to the ocean. I’m so thankful that I caught that on my camera. I got the best video; ironically, my camera attached a still shot. Yes, it is framed in my house. H, running to the ocean, carrying a stick. Fearless, confident, and strong. I’m amazed at God’s goodness. We still have a long road to go. Realistically, this is an unknown condition. God has healed him. We are just waiting for the complete manifestation of that healing in his little body.

Let’s Absorb

My Boy is WALKING!!!!!!!!!!! He is still shaky, but he is out of that damned wheelchair. Honestly, he does not even need the gait walker. He gets tired quickly, but when he is up, he runs. It is a miracle from God. I know that the stripes of Jesus have already healed him. Today, I have seen with my eyes instead of hearing with my ears.

Meet My Okapi Miracle

What a miraculous moment. God is always good, yet when you see your son walk unassisted for the first time in MONTHS.  You CHOOSE to give God the glory because He is the only one who deserves it.  God is writing H’s story. He has been writing since before He created the Earth.  I get to sit on the sidelines and enjoy the view.

He has all the provisions in place for H. For what he is dealing with and all trials that he is currently going through.  God is good. He is faithful.  Our family will heal. Our son WILL heal.  He is strong, kind, brave, and good. I will hold onto this moment for the rest of my life. My heart almost explodes every single time I see it.

He just got up, running to the ocean. The ocean is his haven and his safe place. The bathtub, not so much. The shower, not on your life. He is not even fond of the swimming pool.  When you see the ocean’s vastness, one would think he would be afraid. 

Fear. It is not in this boy’s vocabulary regarding the ocean.

He is simply fearless.

Related Posts

My Hero and His Sidekicks

The Lost Art of Effective Doctor’s

Medical Issues, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

Time to Get Over Ourselves

Barefoot Faith Journey

Time to Get Over Ourselves

2 Day Hospital Stay

In this post, Time to Get Over Ourselves, H, A, and I have been at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital for two days for his infusion. This is the hospital that misdiagnosed him the second time. Now, after 2 yrs, we have found a specialist who has seen his condition.

Now, she has not seen a lot of cases, but at least some. She is willing to learn as we go, and she talks WITH me, not AT me. The last time I checked, I was H’s expert. She respects that, and I appreciate that.

Infusion Time

This is our first infusion at this hospital. It is pretty different from the last three hospitals we have had infusions in. All three other places (Norton’s, UK Children’s, and UPMC) have done one full day of IVIG. We have always had a private room and meal services. That was nice.

Here, however, is a WAY different ball of wax. We are in the cancer infusion section. It is one large room with about 12 of those hospital reclining chairs. Each person comes in and grabs a seat. There are private rooms, but that is for different cases.

As I Look Around

As I look around, I see these children that have ranged from bitty babies to 18 yrs old—everyone here for chemo. I have seen entirely bald children, some with sporadic hair pieces, some with just thinning hair or bald spots, and some that have not lost their hair.

Parents, they are tired. They are overwhelmed. These parents have bags full of everything their child/ren could need/want during their infusion. I have seen a range of emotions, from irritation to anger to frustration to intense sadness. My heart aches as I wonder which of those categories I have fallen into.

Sweet Mama Precious Baby

This one sweet mama, her daughter, looked to be about 3. When we got here, the little girl was wallering in a chair that was too big for her. Then, mama got in the chair, and this baby melted into the warmth of her arms.

She slept until she didn’t. Once the meds hit, this little girl cried, screamed, thrashed, and more. The mama tried to get the daddy to hold her, and this little peach did not have it. She was angry at her father and did not want him to touch her. This blessed little person wanted her mama, but she didn’t.

Calm in the Storm

Finally, a nurse took them to a private room, where she continued to scream for 45 minutes. My heart ached for them all. Eventually, she fell asleep, and the mom quietly retreated out of the room for some untainted air.

I approached her with kind eyes and a warm tone when she came back in. She apologized if her daughter disrupted us. That is the last thing I wanted. I gave her tips on what we do when H rages. The things that worked for us during his hospital stays. We laughed together quietly. She was able to express herself freely because I got it. I understood. We are all in this together. Honestly, this is not where anyone in this room wants to be.

Macarena

At one point, the nurses started clapping and singing the Macarena song. It was something fun they made up to sing to a patient who had completed their chemo treatments. All patients sang, clapped, and smiled at this victory. A and I fought hard not to have a complete come apart. What a beautiful moment.

Emotions of the People

I’ve seen smiles, perseverance, tears, victories, triumphs, and frustration. The nurses work hard to do their job, and they do it well. My heart aches that we are even here. Yet I know that cancer is not what is attacking H’s little body, and for that, I am thankful.

Completely overwhelmed.

Stop complaining about things that are SO minor. Honestly, the mundane crap and trials of life are just that; mundane crap. It will not matter in a week or a month. Seriously, we all need to get over ourselves. These things we get irritated over are nothing compared to what I am looking at now.

Wanna see strength?

Sit in the cancer ward of the hospital. I just saw a 6’2″ man walking with his 18 mth old balding son. This tiny fry marched confidently to the toy cabinet. Daddy opened it and crouched down as he picked something to play with while he had his treatment. I could not hold back my tears.

Time to Get Over Ourselves

Love more. Forgive more. Hold your family close; even if you don’t like them, you must LOVE them. Stop being petty and snippy. It may take a while to absorb all I’ve seen fully. There is a lot that I need to say to people who have hurt me or whom I have hurt.

Stop talking about living a simpler life, loving more, not holding grudges, etc. Do it. People can say or “post” what they do all day and twice on Sunday. That does not mean they live the life they say they live.

Stop talking. Start doing.

This.

This place is where the rubber meets the road for me. Just as I think all people need to visit a developing country to make them appreciate life more and what they have. This place is somewhere everyone needs to see to humble themselves and be grateful.

Ideas

Donate your time, money, and gently used or new toys to a children’s cancer ward. They need it, and it brings them joy for the time they are here. Thank a nurse, dr, EMT, firefighter, police officer, or military person/family.

My heart is changed.

 

Medical Issues, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

Beads of Courage

Barefoot Faith Journey

Beads of Courage

Beads of Courage

We have been trying to get Beads of Courage since this journey began two years ago. I first learned about them from a fellow blog mom Renee’s Little Earthling Blog. Her son’s story was where I read about it.

Norton’s Children’s Hospital

We approached a nurse at the 3rd hospital, Norton’s Children’s Hospital, and she sent in the floor Child Life Worker to talk to me. This was H’s two-day IVIG/Chemo time at the hospital. We had to fill out a form to see if he qualified. There are certain conditions that a child has to have to qualify.

Cancer and Blood Disorders

Cardiac Conditions

Burn injuries

Neonatal ICU Families

Chronic Illness

Do We Qualify or Not?

 

In assuming we qualified, we had to go through a list of procedures. We had to count how many of each category H had from the past to the present—a daunting task. I sat for those two days, and I counted. I read lots of med reports and looked through my calendar to remember. H deserved every single bead because of all that he had been through with this illness.

As I painstakingly remembered and documented, I returned the document to the Child Life worker at Norton’s. We never heard another thing from them. They said he didn’t get to participate in this program at their facility because he didn’t have cancer.

Moving On

I never approached UK Children’s Hospital and UPMC about the Beads of Courage because I figured they wouldn’t let him participate either. The thought passed through my head a few times, but I let it flit on through.

Yesterday, at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital, the thought came back up. I saw this honey of a boy walkthrough with a smile on his face from ear to ear. He was proud and excited. Yes, he was facing a long chemo day, which is problematic. Yet, he could take some time and string each bead on his necklace. As I saw that, I thought I would ask again.

New Day, New Hospital

Katie, our Child Life worker, came bopping over and said she was fixing to talk to us about this opportunity. I told her what had happened in the past. She just said that H qualified. Since we were never given the opportunity, things had changed slightly in 2 years.

She gave me the form (below), and I just checked everything he has done over the last two years. On the back, I wrote down the things that required great bravery: unique beads. Then, we calculated the days he had been sick. He received beads for every 100 days he was ill.

H’s Choice

H got to pick out a bag made by a woman in Arizona. He carefully chose each bead as Katie explained why he was getting it. That was not so much on his hearing level LOL. He just wanted to select the prettiest bead.

Beads aren’t the be-all and end-all, but it is something that he can know is consistent. Hospitals are not consistent. You have different nurses, different techniques, and different reasons we are there. Beads are colorful, bright, and exciting to kids. The BOC brings joy. He can sit and look at each and know that he did something amazing. He took steps to better himself and his health. He is strong.

When we all returned, I sat and looked through all the beads. I read the reasons why and then A did the same thing. She helped him sort them all out. He sat and strung each bead one by one.

Pure Joy

He was excited about the beads. I have seen some fantastic ideas on how to display them online. He earned three more yesterday, but we will get them on clinic day next month. He needs another 100-day bead, a stick bead, and a clinic visit bead. We will add it to his bag and string it when we get home.

Donate

You can always donate towards Beads of Courage anytime. The website I have highlighted above has a tab about donations of money or beads. The Predators donate money towards this program for Vandy. It gives you the chance to put a smile on a kid’s face.