Glenn–CHECK!

Ok ladies and gentlemen.  This will be a long one.  With things that make you think and use your brain.  Bare with us.

This morning when we packed Rowan up, Doc and I were both pretty down.  We believed, based on the surgeon’s evaluation, that this could likely be the last time we had Rowan in our home.

When we arrived, we waited for Rowan to go back…and then we sat in the waiting room.

I received a text from one of my amazing heart mom friends.  She told us the mightiest angel would be pulling for Rowan…her son, Oakes, passed away last night.  Devastated is not a strong enough word for how I felt for this family.  He died in her arms, with his loving father beside him, and the CICU staff, who were family for him, standing vigil.

Rowan has some of the clothing Oakes’ outgrew.  I put him in one of Oakes’ outfits today on purpose before we left, hoping a little bit of that mighty magic would rub off on him.

My Aunt Kathy and Uncle Gary came to wait with us.  Gary is a chatterbox and incidentally perfect company during a long wait.  Having my aunt there too made it even better.  She is so compassionate.  We sat there and talked.  And waited.

Phone call: We started

Phone call: He’s on the heart/lung machine

Cardiologist comes out to talk to other families: Goes over results with a different family of a cath, tells another family they are almost ready for theirs, turns to us.  “He’s looking good.  I stepped in.  His ASD looked a little blocked on his TEE (fancy heart echo done in the esophagus) so they’re going to open it up a bit.

Phone call: His ASD was closing so they opened it up.  Surprise fix, not part of the plan.  Starting the Glenn. Next phone call when he is off the heart/lung machine.

This was the scary part.  I kept waiting to see a doctor coming down the hall to ask us to step into a different room.  I kept expecting to hear bad news now.  I was dreading every open door.

Phone rings.

Doc answers.

Rowan is off the heart/lung machine.  No problems.  He did great.  They are closing him up.

A little bit later we stepped into the hall and watched them wheel our pleasantly PINK little man into the ICU.  He looks perfect…just drugged and intubated.

Then the surgeons came to talk to us.

(Here is a picture of Rowan’s heart for those who would like the reference)

Ignore the numbers.  The blue lines show where unoxygenated blood returns to the heart from the body.  Notice it all flows towards that little hole.  That little hole got SUPER tiny.  ALL of Rowan’s blood has to pass through that tiny tiny super duper itty bitty hole.  With that hole being so small, all of the problems (needing oxygen, being super unstable, respiratory distress, SATing all over the place) can be explained.  They widened it. Permanently.  They think the hole tried to close up, which is unusual in heart kids like Rowan.  But it’s fixed now.

We were desperate for Rowan to have a problem that was fixable.  For an explanation for why he needed the oxygen and started having trouble.  This could very well have been just that.

Then they did the Glenn and Rowan looks great!  He’s totally given every doubter the finger  surprised everyone!  He is in the PICU at St. Francis now.  We’ll keep him comfy and start to try to get him off the ventilator and off post-op meds.

No more shots at home now.  Maybe just aspirin.

Probably won’t need the IV.

Hopefully won’t need the oxygen.

Nothing short of incredible.  Maybe some “mighty” rubbed off on Rowan after all.

When I said goodbye to Rowan before surgery, I simply whispered “not today” in his ear. Not today. Not today.

Definitely not today.