Always something…

Rowan’s health seems to still be doing great since being home.  He’s been really fussy today, but I think that’s largely due to the fact that he wanted to play all night last night and didn’t sleep.

It’s strange to know that Rowan is medically better and see what his care looks like right now.  Rowan came back from St. Louis on 5 more medications.  Thankfully, 2 are antibiotics and will discontinue.  2 are either lifelong or completely unnecessary (tests pending to determine that) and 1 was a supplement to keep his Potassium level appropriate while he is on Lasix.  I’m trying to understand why he is now getting Potassium supplements three times a day and he is getting 80% of the Lasix he was at home originally, but I’m not a doctor.

Also, Rowan’s narcotic doses were increased while he was at SLCH.  This wouldn’t be that bad, but the time intervals for them are every 6 hours, which means that they are off his other medication times (every 4 hours).  This has made taking care of him A LOT more work.  It’s great that the oxygen is gone, but I am losing my mind trying to keep up with all 11 medications he is on right now.

Helpful – I got an IPhone from my husband and now have a med App and several note systems that allow me to keep track of this stuff better.  But I certainly am sleeping far less than I did before.

AND

Evelyn has finally hit the point where it is very clear that we have completely screwed up her world.  She keeps panicking when people leave saying they are “lost”.  She is scared when I’m in a different room.  So between Evelyn constantly trying to stay calm in her inconstant world and Rowan screaming because 3 of his medications make his stomach hurt…life is not a piece of pie right now.

I keep clinging to the fact that he should get off the sedation medication one day…and we might not have to give shots…and that he’ll learn to sleep better and we’ll get off the medications that hurt his tummy so much….

But it will be likely a month before we get to even go down on his sedation medicines again.  At least a month before it gets better.  A month is a long time.

I’m just trying to figure out how to make myself jump back into a positive mind set and figure out how to attack this situation with determination and optimism.  It’s hard not to feel trapped.

I’d far prefer this to the alternative of not having him home, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.  So I’m giving it three days.  Hopefully in three days we’ll all be better adjusted to me being home with Rowan and we’ll have figured out how to make this a routine again.

So I’m going to give myself the next 24 hours to whine to my heart’s content.  Then I’ll figure out how to get back on the horse.

Better, Better, Better, Better, AHHHHH!

I should have quit my job in December.  If that was all Rowan needed to light a “get better” fire under his diaper, I would have done it months ago.

I haven’t updated lately because I have been absolutely out of my mind happy.

After my last update “Let’s Make a Deal” – Rowan continued to improve.  He was moved from the CICU Monday onto the main cardiac floor.  They were slowly weaning his oxygen down.  He’d been on 6 liters of flow with 40% oxygen before we made our deal.  He was on 3 liters when he left the ICU.  We talked about getting Rowan down to his home oxygen level (1/4 L) as part of being ready to go home.  He moved to the main floor Monday and when I left for the night, he was already down to 1/8 L.  1/8!!  That is lower than his home level had been before!

I was so excited that Rowan was doing better!  Half the oxygen he had been on for the last 2 months! That was amazing!  Too good to be true really.  When I left for the night I fully expected a phone call to say “we had to go back up to 2 L” or something like that.  I thought he’d stay on 1/8 L for a while and then get tired and need to be turned back up.

So the next morning I walked into Rowan’s room.  He was sitting in his swing, wide awake and looking around.  He looked different.  I went to check his oxygen level.  The titration device was set to 1/8 L still.  He’d made it the whole night AND was SATing higher than he normally did at home! 88%!  He was doing amazing.  I picked him up to tell him how proud of him I was and sat down in the rocker.

And that’s when I noticed something.

His entire face was free.

He wasn’t getting any oxygen.

At first I panicked.  This must be a mistake! Who pulled off his oxygen!  He needs it!

I looked at him again – he was just staring at me, like “what?”.

And then I remembered…88%.  He was SATing HIGHER than he had at home on ABSOLUTELY no oxygen.  And then I started full on bawling.

Rowan was free.  He was going to have time attached to nothing. NOTHING! I could pick him up and carry him around the house!  He can go down a slide! He can check the mail with me! He can be held without people worrying they’ll pull something!

He’s free!

And if that wasn’t enough…then I realized this.

He was better.  He had almost died and he was better than he’d been before that!  I kept hugging him and sobbing and I couldn’t even choke out the words to tell him how happy I was.

When the doctors came by, I asked them if this meant something bad.  If we were worried that he was SATing so much higher without oxygen.  And they said no.  They think that he is really and truly just better.  They think the pressure in his lungs has relaxed and he’s just…better.

HOLY HELL! Rowan can go home and truly be normal for a few days.  Rowan won’t have to pull on the tape holding his nasal canula on at night and scare us.  Rowan can wear t-shirts….

Rowan might live to see his first birthday.

Rowan might be ok.

Rowan might get to fight with his sister and break something old and meaningful and have to sit in time out and fail a math quiz and lose a library book and get grounded and graduate high school.

I might get to keep my son.

I wanted to tell everyone in the hospital.  My son is free! He’s off oxygen! I can see his whole face!…

My son.

My son.

Pride may be a deadly sin, but the pride I feel right now makes me feel ALIVE.

He’s no quitter.

Oh!

And here’s the best part.

He smiles now.

 

So now we are home.  We go back for the cath he was supposed to have last week on May 9th.  I have a feeling the numbers are going to sing epic ballads of his strength.

“But I Bought You an Aquarium Pass…”

The words I thought the first time they told us our wolfcub was likely out of options when he was 1 week old.

So what better “give ‘em hell” way to spend the day before returning to St. Louis than to finally take that trip.  We loaded the whole gang up in the car for the first time and took our first (of many to come) family trip to the Aquarium.

So the Fowlington Four were off on our big adventure to see lots of fish in cages.

Our Little Bird touched a starfish which was a big deal since she doesn’t generally like things that feel “icky”.

 

 Rowan slept most of the time, but we did manage to take a few pictures of him with the different sharks.  The shark tunnel is one of my favorite places at the aquarium.  I could sit in there and watch them swim above me all day long.  I’d love to take a nap there. It’s super peaceful. Plus, I kind of like the fact that my hero looks so peaceful with the ominous shadows of Jurassic monsters in the background.

Let’s Make a Deal

First off, too many Zombie movies have starts in hospitals. So I’ve had these horrible nightmares. So last night’s nightmare – where I’ve got Rowan’s oxygen tank in one arm and him screaming in the other and I’m dodging Zombie’s in the sky bridge to try to get to my car – my phone woke me out of.

“This is Shannon with CT surgery” is a HORRIBLE thing to wake up to.  Luckily, Rowan was “fine” but his Broviac (IV that goes from his leg into his heart that he’s had for 3 months) broke. It broke on the external part, so they had clamped it and were going to take him to the OR later to have Dr. Boston replace it. Dr. Boston is the “new” CT surgeon at SLCH.  I gave phone consent in case I didn’t get to the hospital before he left for them to do this procedure and a blood consent as well in case he bled during the procedure and needed to be transfused.

After that, I got out of bed to shower. No hot water.

For those of you keeping track:

Zombie nightmare

Rowan going to OR

Maybe needing a transfusion

No hot water = no shower

Ok, so then I put on dirty clothes because I haven’t been able to use the washer/dryers at haven house because others have been using them. Run through the rain to the car (wet, dirty clothes. check.) And start the 20 minute drive to the hospital.

Cue phone.

“Hi this is Urology” Really? So Rowan’s foley catheter was put in and moved causing some trauma to his urethra. He had some bleeding but it had slowed down and almost stopped.  His foley was removed yesterday, thinking he no longer needed it.  Apparently, the bleeding got worse this morning. So while in the OR they are going to shove a camera up, look around, and maybe put a foley back in.

Zombies. Broken Broviac. Maybe blood. No hot water. Dirty, wet clothes. Bleeding Penis.

Great.

So 2.5 hours later, I arrived at the hospital. Traffic and car wrecks jammed up 64 and I didn’t have  GPS to figure out another way to the hospital.  So I get to the hospital and run upstairs to see Rowan. 

Not good.  He is on isolation. He’s breathing hard. His oxygen has been cranked up.  He’s grunting a lot. He looks like he is in pain. The nurses he’s had that morning start talking to me about the bleeding that happened that morning, which was WAY worse than I’d thought from the previous discussion. Descriptions of filled bloody diapers and trying to put pressure to stop it and Rowan being unhappy make me think this is NOT just some Foley trauma.  I’m terrified that the blood in the urine is likely coming from a different source because Rowan doesn’t usually make very much urine without meds, and he hadn’t had any…so how could he fill a diaper? Oh, and they think he has an infection too.

Side note: Finally officially met Dr. Boston. He started talking to me about risks of Broviac replacement…but I didn’t really pay any attention because I was SHOCKED when an Australian accent came out of his mouth and spent most of the time trying to figure out where he was from. So that was a kind of awesome moment.

Okay, back to the story….

So Rowan is going to go to the OR, may need blood, will probably need to be intubated because of the breathing trouble and sedation needed to do the procedure.

So I sat down with Rowan. And we had a talk.

“Rowan, today sucks for me.  It can suck a ton for me, as long as you turn this around for you. Today can be the worst day of my life if you can fix it for you.”

So they came and got him and took him away…

And my phone went off.

My boss texted me to let me know that they would be posting open positions next week and she needed to know soon what my decision was about coming back to work.

I’ve known for a while that I can’t go back next year.  Rowan needs me to take care of him. He can’t go to daycare or even grandmacare. And if Rowan isn’t around to need care, I don’t think I can go back to work next year. I don’t think I can be in the same building as all my students who know what happened. I need to wait until they graduate the building.

So I texted my decision. Not next year. Hopefully the year after that though, Rowan will be well enough for at least Grandmacare.

So….for those of you counting

Zombies. Broken Broviac. Maybe Blood. No hot water. Wet, dirty clothing. Bleeding Penis. 2.5 Hours of Traffic. Up oxygen. Up pain. Slasher movie amount of blood from bleeding penis. Infection. Unhappy baby. Probably intubation. And I just quit my dream job.

…so I texted my friend Becky, Oakes’ mom.  Oakes is doing horrible too.  Super horrible.

Officially, worst day ever. I mean come on. It started with Zombies.  What did I expect?

I’ll tell you what I did not expect.

Rowan didn’t need to be intubated.  There were no problems with his Broviac replacement. Infact, they put in a Broviac with two places to draw/put medicine into…so all of his other lines can come out now. They did put a catheter in, but it can come out in two days and he should be good to go. Also, the Foley meant that he wasn’t passing urine by a raw area so he wasn’t in pain like he had been. He was comfortable, breathing easier, and even played with me a little bit today.

Then, his swabs for infection all came back negative. He’s good to go. So they started feeding him and he should be a happy camper soon.

Today started with me running through the hospital fighting off zombies trying to save my son. It’s ending with him feeling MUCH better, and a hot bath at Haven House. AND my husband is coming to St. Louis this weekend.

Maybe we both turned it around.

Really!?! with Elle

Last night Rowan woke up a little too much under all of his sedation and got very upset.  They had trouble trying to wean his vent because in the ICU you want kiddos like Rowan too asleep to be upset but awake enough to breath on your own – a fine balance.  So they figured it out this morning.  All of his numbers continued to improve and they were able to extubate him.  His kidneys and pancreas did sustain some damage due to the massive hyponatremia Rowan had when he was admitted.  However, the levels of some of the things they check for function in those organs are slowly moving towards normal, so we are hoping that they are not permanently damaged and will heal.
So even though Rowan got extremely dehydrated and his sodium level dropped to the floor, it looks like we may make it past this road bump and get him ready for his cath (hopefully next week).  AND we were feeling somewhat optimistic about his cath – thinking that even if the numbers weren’t ideal, we may be able to give him another month to try to “outgrow” high pressures.
We were kind of happy…
and then the Pulmonology office from Tulsa called.
Which leads me to a segment I like to call
REALLY!?!?! with Elle
Really!?!? A week later we find out that Rowan was positive for a bacteria in his lungs that could have contributed to dehydration? Really!? I mean if the hospital can grow cultures within 48 hours why the heck did it take 7 days? Kind of important, I mean REALLY!?
Also…
They tested Rowan to make sure that his pancreas is still sufficient (working enough to keep him from suffering from many parts of cystic fibrosis that we thought Rowan’s genetics protected him from).  Should be. His genetics say so.
BUT he isn’t.
REALLY!?!?!
As if a minimum of 6 major surgeries and several catheterizations wasn’t enough?
As if twice a day lung clearance wasn’t enough?
As if heart meds weren’t enough?
Rowan needs another medical complication like Tulsa needs another pot hole!
This kid can’t catch a freaking break.  It sucks.
The silver lining here is that pancreatic insufficiency is the CF aspect that they can treat.  He will now have to take synthetic enzymes everytime he eats.  He will have supplemental vitamins he needs to take everyday.  He will go to the doctor more.
It just sucks.
So after that news…we found out that our friend Oakes was in the CICU and having problems too. Another little boy, Jackson, was put back in the hospital.
BUT, Lior got good news..
So boys. Stop trying to hang out with the pretty nurses at St. Louis Childrens. They love you, but come on! They want you home and happy too.  Turn it around, I mean, really.

Thank _______

We are so thankful that Rowan’s meltdown happened here in St. Louis where the staff knows him so well.  I think to call it luck or chance or fate isn’t really fair.  Rowan is still alive because of the intelligence, experience, teamwork, and expertise of the staff at St. Louis Children’s.  Rowan is alive because of some very special people who were able to handle his rapidly failing body and save his life.  So often we say “thank goodness ________” or “we’re so lucky” but I think really, what we are, is grateful to the individuals. We wanted to thank them here.

Thank you to Yvonne and Tammy, Rowan’s nurses in the CICU who have pulled our little man through the shock he was in and taken amazing care of him.

Thank you to Drs. Oren and Duncan – the attendings we have to thank for the fact that our son is still here. They have actively helped Rowan rehydrate and recover from the scariest day we have ever had with him.

Thank you to Dr. Saini and the other fellows in the CICU for all that you have done, too.  From placing lines to checking gases, we are happy to have you caring for our son.

Thank you to Dr. Muenzer in the Emergency Room for your quick and confident managing of Rowan’s arrival in the ER and getting him into the CICU’s hands as fast as possible.  Also, we saw that you came up to the floor to check on him.  That was one of the many moments we’ve had in St. Louis where we have felt like our son was lucky to have such caring staff watching out for him.

Thank you Dr. Ambrose.  When we saw you walking down the hall in the ER, we both felt like Rowan was going to get the best care possible.  Seeing a familiar face and having you be honest (“he’s going to get intubated”) was very powerful in those scared hours when he first arrived.  The fact that you waited with us in the ER until Rowan got to the unit mattered so much.  Also, thank you for “awe”ing at Rowan’s dorky bunny rabbit picture. 

To Dr. Gazit who took care of Rowan even though you weren’t “on duty” in the CICU – thank you.  It’s always clear that you personally care about the children you take care of.

The list goes on. Aly, Amy, Brett, Paul, Nikki from respiratory, Shelly, Katie the Social Worker, Becky from Child Life (who has an awesome shoulder for crying on) and every single one of you who stopped by to see us and see Rowan – we’re so happy to see you again and to have Rowan under your wings.  We know that you all care about him and our family.  We talked when we were home about how the SLCH nurses/therapists/staff were the family Rowan knew best.  We think so highly of all of you and brag all the time to everyone ever about all of you.

And Becky Ortyl…our sons have GOT to stop trying to have playdates in the CICU. Here’s to getting them out of there so we can stop meeting like this! So nice to have a friend around though.  Someone to make inappropriate jokes with and be honest with makes all the difference. You’re the big sister I never had. You inspire me.

All of you are an important part of this story. You are an important part of our family’s story. You are all the reason we have hope that Rowan’s incredible month at home wasn’t the only one he’ll get.

Well, that sucks...

Doc guest post, and kind of a long one...

We will have pictures and description of our trip to the aquarium as a family last Saturday when we get a chance, but we are a bit tied up now.

We drove up to St. Louis Sunday. Honestly, it was not a bad drive, just a little bit of rain. Diaper changes were uneventful and our wolf-cub just sat back and enjoyed the vibrations of the car. He was SUPER unhappy when we got to Haven House, but this is not unusual for any kid after being in the car 8 hours. Evelyn does the same thing. But when your kid is as sick as ours, you contact the Cardiology fellow after 3 hours of unhappiness. Of course, as soon as I paged the fellow, Rowan decided that he was going to be calm, cool, and collected. And that the pacifier was something he really liked. He finally figured out the pacifier! Which is great, because he was a little fussy overnight Sunday night, but easily consoled. So not a bad night, really.

Monday morning, he was still a bit fussy and we went ahead to the hospital because we didn't know the time for his pre-cath ECHO/EKG appointment. The front desk told us it was at 11 AM and it was like Rowan said "Mom, Dad, I don't think I can make it that long" and started acting funny. So we took him in to the ER just to make sure. Literally, as the ER doc walked up to see him in the triage area, he decided it was time to look really terrible. He was sweating (not unusual for him, but keep reading) and was not easy to wake up. His hands and feet got really cold and looked blue. He started breathing really fast, even for him. Then when they took his temperature it was 40 C (104 Fahrenheit). All of this = he is super sick. The Cardiology fellow on just happened to be one that followed him the majority of his last visit and that we had a couple of longer conversations with. Needless to say, it was a huge weight off our shoulders to not have to go through everything and skip to "So how were things at home?". It also meant that he got up to the CICU really fast.

You never think you will be happy to be in the CICU again. But knowing the doctors really know him (literally) inside and out is a major comfort. The docs thought at first that Rowan could do without getting intubated (tube put in for the ventilator), but that did not last long. He just continued to look crummy with his respirations and the VBG (shows levels of different gases in the blood, assesses how well you breathe) showed that he was not doing well. So he got intubated and got a central line (IV that goes in almost to the heart) and an arterial line (this gives a constant reading of blood pressure for monitoring). In typical Rowan fashion, his arterial line caused problems and had to be taken out. When we left last night (Monday night), they were waiting on an instrument to help with putting an arterial line in a different place. His vital signs and labs improved slowly throughout the day and we went back to Haven House for the night.

Last night, we got a voicemail in the middle of the night (freaky, but it was okay). His Foley catheter (to drain his bladder, placed because they need to know exactly how much he is peeing) had been showing any urine output (which is concerning), but was repositioned and he started urinating very well. The thought is that the catheter was not in quite the right place. Urology is going to come look at him because there may have been some damage to his urethra (this happens sometimes and generally causes no long-term issues). He is now peeing like he should even without having had his diuretics (water pill) for a while, which is great.

This morning, his vitals and labs all look better, if not drastically better. His heart rate is down to "I am calm and okay" levels, his hands and feet are cool, but not ice cold like they were yesterday. His blood pressure is great without any pressors (he was on these to keep his blood pressure from dropping). His temperature has slowly recovered to high normal. They were able to get an arterial line in his left arm. He is starting to need less ventilator support. All good things.

The plan moving forward is primarily to get him stable and back to his baseline. Then we will do his cardiac catheterization. If he is ready for his surgery, then he will be put on the schedule and get the next stage of his repair. If he's not, then we figure out where to go from there. They would want to keep an eye on his pressures to see if he could maybe outgrow them being too high. How likely that is will be a discussion we will have with the team and with the surgeon.

Even if everything goes horribly wrong, we are so happy for getting our month at home with our little wolf-cub. We realized that yesterday when he declined so rapidly that we have been completely right to be on edge for the last month. When he gets sick, he drops hard and fast. And if it happens that he doesn't recover, this time, or the next, or the one after, we were able to have him home, see our puppy, lie on the living room floor and hang out with us, see Evelyn dance and twirl around him, meet all our Tulsa friends, hang out on the back porch with Dad, take a walk around the neighborhood, and see all the fishes with little sister (even though he slept pretty much the whole time). We treated him like a normal kid. Just a normal kid who gets his food through a tube, medicines every four hours, CPT twice a day, labs twice a week, physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, and a shot twice a day.

Just a normal kid with an abnormal way of doing things.

4 Months

Today Rowan had his 4 month well child check.  As far as growth goes, he’s doing great.  His SAT levels are still doing well and he seems to have returned to his usual self.  We are trying to keep it together for just a few more days, but knowing that drive to St. Louis is only 3 days away SUCKS.

We’re doing all we can to stay sane and enjoy the next few days without being emotional basket cases and spoiling the time we have.

Rowan is Growing.

Rowan is Getting Stronger.

Rowan is more AWAKE!

Hard to know what next week will say…but we’re hopeful.  We like this guy. We want to keep him around.

Also – Camille makes awesome turkey taco stuff.

Hanging Out At Home

Our plans to go out and about haven’t worked out so far.  We’ve had some really poor luck the last few days. Yesterday, Doc and I both were exhausted.  Doc had been on call, and I had been dealing with Mr. “But I Slept All Day At The Hospital Why Should I Sleep At Night?” who…didn’t want to sleep.  So we stayed in because I couldn’t walk a straight line without my caffeine drip.

Today we were going to go to the aquarium this afternoon. We had an appointment scheduled with the CF doc this morning and were going to go this afternoon.  Then our appointment got rescheduled for mid-afternoon and we had family pictures this afternoon at 4…so it didn’t work out.  We are going to go out – so help me…BUT

We spent some quality time at home, and Rowan didn’t seem to mind! Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

Outta the Hospital–Part Deux

Well, we didn’t make it out in time for the Millington Family Egg Hunt at my parent’s house – or for the trifecta of birthdays on Saturday for my sister, brother, and mother.  BUT…we did make it home early enough for me to take some “really mom!?” pictures to lord over Rowan should he ever bring a girl home.

In a Word… UGGGHGEHRRHRHRHRH!!!!?!?!?!?

So.

Rowan is now at St. Francis in Tulsa.

He’d been sweating a ton and having diarrhea with the morphine/Ativan withdrawal.  On top of that, he was still getting Lasix (a medicine that makes you pee out extra fluid and most heart patients need some amount of it).

So we were worried that with all the sweating his electrolytes might be off and they did a few blood tests.  Turns out his sodium was “critically low” which means he had to go to the hospital last night at 10pm.

I need to just carry a piece of paper that has Rowan’s entire medical history, allergies, current medication doses and concentrations, surgical dates, etc. on them to hand to any health care personnel he sees because it takes WAY to long to go over his history with every doctor and nurse he sees.

Rowan was admitted for low sodium but his potassium and chloride were also low.  Solution – IV fluids.  He started them this morning and his numbers are improving at a good steady rate.

Meanwhile, Rowan looks fine.  Rowan is acting fine. Rowan’s vitals are great. I think he’s pretty confused as to why he’s there.

I’m pretty much trying not to cry ‘round the clock because I was SOOO excited to get to introduce Rowan to my brother and sister-in-law and nephew.  I was counting the days until Rowan got to be a part of a family holiday this Sunday.  Now it looks like that might not happen because he’s in the hospital.

I KNOW that anyone with numbers like his would be admitted to the hospital and this is something he needs…but there is a giant part of me that looks at him and goes “oh come on! I can draw blood and give IV fluids at home…it’s just one more thing….” but I’m just whining.  Also I think you may need some sort of official medical training for that…

Maybe I can hide eggs in Rowan’s hospital room….

Sigh.

Hope is Hard

Despite the fact that Rowan’s medicine for his lung pressures is a long shot, he keeps giving us reasons to be hopeful.

His oxygen saturation levels were in the 70s almost all the time at the hospital.  In the last few weeks, they’ve been trending up to where he is almost always in the 79-85 range.  We haven’t had to turn his oxygen up in four days.  We’ve even been able to turn it down for about an hour every now and then before he starts to have problems.

He also keeps getting stronger.  He did a push up yesterday. He can hold his head up for a minute at a time on his own.  He likes his pacifier and is trying really hard with it.  He now gets fed in chunks and has over half the day off of the feeding tube.

He’s getting so much better from what we can see and assess from the outside.  We are finding more and more signs that we can be cautiously optimistic that the inside will reflect that.  We’re only 11 days away from his next cath.

If We Cannot Come Out–Bring ‘Em In

 

Last week I had a bit of a “cabin fever” break down.  I was so tired of not leaving the house.  I really wanted to see friends and feel normal.

 

 

 

We can leave and go out now, which is wonderful, but it’s hard to feel normal.  People stare all the time when they see Rowan with oxygen.  I’d rather them ask questions than just stare. 

 

 

So – in a desperate attempt to feel “normal”, we decided to invite people over Sunday night for a casual BBQ.  If it’s hard to go out, then we’d invite people in.

 

 

 

It was incredible to just hang out and relax with friends and family.  We had an amazing evening.  Late, when both our kids were asleep and Doc and I were settling in, we couldn’t help but feel like life got brighter. 

Rowan acted like a baby.

Our house was full of happy sounds and laughter.

Evelyn hit a sugar HIGH from Root Beer. 

It was perfect.

Perfect.