Valentine's Day

Remembering Bryant ~ Valentine's Day 1989

Well Bryant, it is Valentine's Day, February 14, 2011.  I remember, clear as day, 22 years ago, this day, you had your first major surgery.  A g-tube and fundoplication.  Words that just ramble off my tongue now but, hey, back in the day, we had no idea what was happening.

You were so little, only 4 lbs., 10 oz and they said you wouldn't swallow and could not live on IV food.  But you were only two weeks old and how could someone not "eat" ?  Or swallow"  Seemed kinda drastic to us. Plus, your surgeon (Dr. Karl) was a complete asshole.  Excuse the language.  But I will say, he did know what he was doing and probably would win the Award for longest fundo to stay in place, 22 years. 

Cocky as he was,  you my son, proved to be the most cocky of all.  Proving everything they said wrong and living despite being told you were "impcompatible with life".  HA!  That's funny.  You were and are the epitome of life.   But that's me talking, I am always bragging about you.

I chose the above picture because it's almost funny / ironic to see your little hand almost like saying "Shush, Quiet ~ It's all gonna turn out okay Mom!"  So true.  I remember the doctors / nurses taking you to surgery, the last attempt to "save" you.  A g-tube?  Grammy and I had argued vehemently against it, we felt as if we were in the Land of Goz, you know, "Oz" but with doctors who thought they were "gods" so Goz.  As it happens, they were right in this instance (and many others) but at the time, a g-tube seemed the furthest thing from what we should be discussing concerning a 2 week old infant.  Shouldn't it be colic or baby powder or poop or something baby-like?  You know, what bottle to use.  I was still pumping breast milk so maybe a conversation with other moms about the sleepless nights, the nursing, the swollen / always wet feeling from engorged breasts .. but no. I had that; milk coming all the time; but I had to pump it in a room and then refrigerate it so they could try and give it to you ... but you wouldn't swallow.

Dr. Bell ~ he decided to bring you for a "swallow study".  I don't remember signing off on it or even knowing about it, but as I wandered in, still pretty darn sore from MY surgery (c-section) Grammy and I came into the unit ~ and suddenly it was pretty obvious something was very wrong.  We were ushered into a room with Dr. Bell and the attending (I think it was Dr. Rhodes but I am not sure) and they were grim.  You had almost died.  They had to "work" you for over an hour.  You apparently failed the swallow test and instead the liquid dye went directly into your lungs and you almost died from that and now you had pneumonia.  Huh?  What?  We were just coming in to see you?  How was this possible?

Oh the joys of Parenthood.  We were told things were going to get worse.  You probably would die from that (but of course we had been hearing this now for 2 weeks for whatever your issue of the day was so I wasn't overly concerned ... I was in the Red Zone from the second you were delivered and it wasn't gonna change to green pastures any time soon).  We went to see you, there you were, lying there in your little isolette.  None of this seemed real or possible.  When the Hell was someone gonna wake me up from this nightmare?

Of course, Mr. Cocky Bryant got through that little blip - recovered nicely from the pneumonia and then we were told a g-tube was the only option.  Huh?  What?  Again, our stupid faces looking dimly at the doctors.  Serious, they were not kidding.  Dr, Karl was impatient.  Grammy asked "what is the risk" and he answered "He can die".  Just like that.  He was not one for bedside manner and began to lecture us on how all our questions were now closing the "window" he had so nicely set up for us to have surgery.  Gone, the window was gone.  Now if we were LUCKY, maybe he could fit us in the next day and with that he left us morons to our own selves.  There.  That would certainly teach us a lesson in questioning anyone in the Land of Goz.

Well, a window did open (probably because he owned the surgical unit - everyone there apparently agreed he was definitely "Goz-like" and we were freaking LUCKY DUCKY to have him even bothering to talk to us at all.  Sheesh.  Well they took you in and out you came with this rubber hose.  Strange it seemed to us.  I remember when you came home, it was your favorite toy.  You used to love to swing it like a bat and then pull it out so you could see me lose all color from my face and run around the house screaming for a g-tube.  And the time we took you up north without a spare one and yours came out and I had to sit in the back seat of my Camaro with you holding the tube in place.  You must've thought, My Goz, why on Earth do I get stuck with these stoops for parents?  Why are they taking me up north. I am a sick little guy, what is WRONG with them.

Ha ha.  We were nuts.  And you were beer-nuts.  Remember we used to call you that?  Crazy days Bryant.  But we learned, slowly and after that g-tube incident, we learned to pack a little more carefully.  After all, we were dealing with a graduate of the land of Goz.

So Valentine's Day, 1989.  G-tube / Fundo Day to us.  Looking for something to buy you, all the Gift Shop had was hearts and chocolate.  Thinking that wasn't gonna work for the g-tube thingy.  But I did buy you this little heart balloon and waited for you to come out of surgery with Dad and Grammy.  Hoping you didn't "die" since our trusty surgeon had assured us that was a good probability.  Guess he didn't like the odds ... but that's the irony of it all, you beat the odds time after time after time.

We miss you and the crazy stuff Bryant.  We had our Reunion of your friends on Saturday.  We went "glow bowling" and I even wore bowling shoes.  That in itself would have made you laugh!  You used to bowl there, King Lanes.  It was fun and nice to see everyone.  Again, you are everywhere even on Valentine's Day, I have a story ... you always had us hopping Bryant and it was always crazy stuff.  Good crazy though and I miss it so much.

And then we saw them, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb, Dr. Karl and his Stupid Intern (also known as super ass kisser).  They were triumphant in their walk to tell us they had succeeded but it was far worse than they expected.  Your stomach was the size of a pea.  I remember Dr. Karl showing us with his fingers "the size of a pea" and I wanted to smash his face in.  He would start you off at 1 cc per hour.  That didn't register with us at the time, but now it's like "wow, that's not good" thankfully we didn't know that and figured, hey 1 cc is better than no cc's.   He also warned us that this would probably not work, the fundo would come apart and surely you would aspirate again and die from it.  Then he left the room abruptly, apparently bored with our stupidity and the fact that it did not compute with us.  Die?   He isn't going to die.  Why do you keep saying that?????

Well the fundo held.  Up to the end.  And your 1 cc turned into 5 and then 10 pretty fast.  Apparently your pea-sized stomach was pretty darn resilient and could expand quickly to absorb food (I will put a plug in here now for my genetics, you probably get that from me ;) haha!).

Again, the picture says it all.  You had it under control.  I just needed to be quiet ... and let you do your thing :)

Love & Miss ya Bryant. xo xo ~
Mommy