Sunday

Yesterday afternoon, in an attempt to do something recreational as a family, we piled ourselves into the van and started the 20 minute drive to the farm in order to hike up Blueberry Mountain.  Alas, the mountain is really a hill but it goes by that moniker and I am not about to change such local lore in the interest of geographical correctness.  Onward and upward.

 About 7 minutes out of town Dave suddenly pulled over into the parking lot adjacent to the Wilno Tavern.  He asked me, "Check the Owner's Manual and tell me what an exclamation point atop a potato smasher means."  My involvement was really unnecessary as he had already realised that the van swaying to the side as if blown by a strong wind meant that the back tire had blown out.  And so had our plans.  We attempted re-inflating the tire with a magic aerosol can that claims to both seal and inflate.  Once upon a time it had proved magical on a friend's tire; however, its powers were no match for the flatness of our tire.  We listened to the aerosol hiss as the tire continued to emit a similar sound.  Dave decided to stop wasting time and call for emergency roadside assistance (one of the perks of a new van).  By the time he finally made contact with an operator and attempted to describe how little the hamlet of Wilno is like a city, we were told that we would need to wait 45 minutes to an hour for help.

 Thankfully, across the road from the parking lot, is a cultural museum dedicated to the Kashuby Poles who settled our particular part of the Ottawa Valley.  There is a genuine log home, some sheds, a shrine, cedar rail fences and bathrooms.  None of which were open.  More importantly, there is a significant green space in which to run around and the park is about 5 feet below the highway thus preventing Isaac from making any escapes.  After discovering that the bathrooms were not open, Dave took the boys to some trees.  Isaac, having only been out of diapers for a few months, found this foray into spring quite exciting.  In fact, he perfected a new-to-our-family method of urinating in which one lies face down in the grass without one's pants.  When finished, one rises from the ground without one's pants in the presence of strangers with an overwhelming look of satisfaction and delight.

As you can see, I attempted three photos of the kids in ascending order.  Sarah was completely unobliging; Isaac was only mildly so; and the others were more or less approving of their mother's photographic attempts.  I remarked to Dave that these photos will probably become family classics.  Other than taking pictures, running several races in which Joseph consistently lost and cried, and picking (yes, picking!) pansies planted in the colours of Kaszuby, we were also eaten alive by blackflies.  Sarah is still swatting at her ears 24 hours later.  The roadside assistance eventually came; changed our flat and sent us on our way.  We went home to burgers, fries and corn.  Remarkably, neither Dave or I was upset by the change in plans.  I imagine that if we had made it to the Mountain, someone would have fallen off the side.  By the grace of God go I.

And so it happens again

 I feel like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland; except that I have never read that book - something about the Queen of Hearts and talking rabbits that always manages to turn me off.  Anyway, I am late, late, horribly late.  (Is that what he says?)  It was Ben's birthday on May 9th and I am only just now posting about it.  By the way, the NET team (pictured above), also came for a stay.  The blond lad in the fashionable glasses can do a mean Angry Bird impression.  He required an ice cream cone, though. The presence of 9 young people under the age of 23 made me realise that I have aged:  I have little to no understanding of skinny jeans on males.  On to other things.

 Ben turned 7:  can you tell?  He requested Pizza Pizza, ice cream cake and his friend Cecelia from school.  Cecelia proved a wonderful addition and demonstrated an incredible ability to micro-manage my son.  Amazing, the power of a good woman.

 Her mother's stint managing our town's dollar store while its owners visited family on the Indian sub-continent provided a wealth of boyish birthday gifts:  dinosaur colouring book, a grenade packed with water balloons and a bug-catching kit.  He also received a toy rifle in the morning from my mother complete with sound effects.  It has proved very useful in management of the dog.  It is, however, rather disconcerting when pointed at the baby.

 Camo shorts, care of mommy and daddy.  No Valley birthday is complete without camouflage.

 This little lady has decided that stealing her brother's soose is an inexhaustible source of delight.

 On the Saturday following Ben's birthday Dave had a NET board meeting in Ottawa.  I decided at 5:30 in the morning that we would accompany him.  Adjectives to describe my decision elude me at the moment.  By the time we arrived at the Archbishop's residence two children had already thrown up their breakfast.  Car sickness, not the stomach flu.  I stupidly forgot to clean the throw-up receptacles when I used the bathroom inside the residence.  However, rather ingeniously, I was able to both empty the containers and clean them (somewhat) using the run-off from the garbage bins in the back parking lot.  I felt like a veritable pioneer.  Move over, Laura Ingalls.

 And then I decided that we should go to a museum; preferably the Museum of Science where we could see a dinosaur.  Despite being parked only blocks from the museum of choice I, being geographically challenged (and unable to drive and read the directions on an iPhone despite Hannah's assurances that we were "really near"), settled upon the Museum of War.  My decision was based entirely upon the providential appearance of said museum on my horizon just as my blood sugar began to approach the level of a diabetic coma.  We quickly found parking, set up the stroller, discovered an elevator and made our way to the cafeteria where several veterans complimented me on my family size as well as their behaviour.  At this point Jacob was on all fours wiping up spilled water off the cafeteria floor while Hannah muttered, "He looks like a slave."
Among other delights, Isaac managed to talk on every single phone that he could find in the museum.  He was, unfortunately, exactly one inch too short to hang up any of them.  This went over very well with the childless clientele that had chosen this particular Saturday to walk the museum.

 Ben, on the other hand, was completely entranced by all aspects of war.

 Particularly the footage from WWII of bombing raids.

 He could have stayed all day.

Joe lost interest by the time we reached the tanks and discovered lots of very climbable objects that were circled by rope indicating that they should not be climbed.  We were very ready to leave by the time we passed Hitler's car (holy water, anyone?) and stumbled our way out the doors and into the van where I eventually found lunch and somewhere to nap.  It was a completely ill-advised and expensive weekend adventure.  Years from now it will be a good memory.

A little levity

During Isaac's sickness one of the unforeseen blessings of our sometimes negligent parenting was that we hadn't yet taken away his soother.  We had made half- hearted attempts which had been  quickly foiled by Isaac's persistent crying grating against the weak will of his parents (coupled with other, more worthy, battles).  Our 'negligence' proved a great blessing during his hospital stay as his soother and his blanket were, at times, all that he could reply upon.  Thus, I couldn't help laughing today when the following scene played out after breakfast.
Isaac pointed at the cupboard above the microwave and asked for "Isaac's soosie."  I opened the cupboard and discovered that he was gesturing at the bottle given to us at the hospital.  I passed it to him; he smiled; and then asked for Daddy's soosie.  He was gesturing at an empty beer bottle.
Our children bring us to our knees.  Sometimes with a direct blow.

Isaac: Hope does not disappoint

I apologise in advance if this post is a little long.  Please remember that this blog serves as a photo album for our family.  Thus, events such as Isaac's illness, need to be especially remembered:  memorialised with many photos and details.  Feel free to skim or to read in detail.  I have included in parts the original email that I sent out to many of you during our hospital stay, it is in italics.

When Dave bought us our first iPhone on the March Break I silently rolled my eyes at another gadget.  Little did I know that what I had so quickly judged as something we didn't need would become a lifeline for us in a matter of weeks.  So, pardon the graininess of many of these photos, they were taken with the now-cherished iPhone.

On the night of April 13th, a Saturday, I brought Isaac to our local hospital for the stomach virus that wouldn't die.  Isaac, 2.5 yrs., had, along with the other kids, battled a chest cold and then a G.I. virus.  However, unlike the other children, he just wasn't getting better.  He had become sick on Tuesday with the stomach flu and a fever.  Over the next few days he would rally, beat the fever and begin to drink again.  However, on Saturday, as the day drew to a close, things seem to turn for the worse.
The last thing that I wanted to do was go to the hospital.  The previous weekend Dave had brought Jacob in for an ear and lung infection; I had brought Sarah the next day with a fever and a respiratory virus; and the following day I had returned with Benjamin whose upper arm had intercepted a flying scooter.  I was embarrassed and just wanted one of my children to improve without medical intervention.
Despite my feelings, one look at Isaac and his very real suffering made me realise that I had to go where I did not want to, much like the next day's Gospel. (Thank you, Sarah G.)

Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go.

 Dave tells me that he wouldn't have let me not go.  Praise God for good fathers and husbands.  So, at 8pm with all the other kids tucked into bed, I put Isaac into the van and drove to the hospital for what I thought would be a quick re-hydration and a return to bed.
It was not to be so.
(As I began this post I quickly realised that 2012-13 could go down as the 'year' of the ambulance for our family.  This realisation made me aware of the fact that I have never posted Sarah's birth story (now 11 months old); I will have to post it, if only for posterity's sake, on her first birthday.)

(On a side note:  think carefully about what you dress your child in when heading to the ER.  Isaac had to wear the same pajama top for the next five days until his discharge!  The blue Tigger pajamas are now a legendary part of his early childhood.)
I arrived at the ER where they treated him for a stomach virus and fever with Tylenol suppositories and Pedialyte given in 15 ml doses every 10-15 minutes.  The small and intermittent doses would hopefully convince his stomach not to begin throwing up again.  I had to note the amount given and the time intervals into the wee hours of the morning.  He was so desperate for the fluid that we had to go for a walk in between each dose in order to keep his mind off of the bottle.  He quickly noted the water fountain which we would pass on our walks!

The nurse kept track of his breathing, oxygen saturation levels, heart rate and temperature at half-hour intervals.  When we arrived all of his vitals were a concern and indicative of dehydration.

The nurse suggested that I use the wheelchair for our walks as I was carrying him around and wearing myself out.

At about 2am, it became obvious that he wasn't improving with re-hydration alone.  The doctor ordered an IV and bloodwork.  It was at this point that I noted a sense of real concern descend upon the ER staff.  Extra staff arrived to insert his IV and help with the bloodwork.  I was so overtired and near-panicked by this point that my legs were shaking in shock, much like after childbirth.  I managed to take off my Miraculous Medal and place it around his little neck.  I had a sense of complete loss of control and I increased my prayers and begged the Lord to wake people up in order to pray.  The IV failed but the tech was able to get the necessary blood samples.  For some inexplicable reason, Isaac rallied for around 30 minutes and began to play in the sink.  I think I took these photos because I thought that we might be turning a corner.

There was no corner turned and he quickly became frantic.  He would sleep for ten minutes and then wake up in obvious discomfort.  There was nothing that I could do to help him and we continued in this state until night became day.  During this time the bloodwork results came back.  All was normal except for his white blood cells which were elevated at 13.  If they had been above 14 a bacterial infection would have been confirmed.  The doctor ordered another round of bloodwork at 8am.  I wondered if such a delay was wise.
Dave and I were in contact throughout this time and at 6am he told me that I had to come home as Sarah needed to nurse and I needed to sleep.  He biked down and I quickly drove home where I plunked the kids in front of the TV, put Sarah for a morning nap, showered and managed to sleep for 3 hours.  When I awoke, I called Dave who told me that the new ER shift had immediately put Isaac on an IV, noted a slight cough, ordered a chest x-ray which revealed a massive pneumonia on the left lung and placed him on a super-dose of antibiotic.  We were floored by the diagnosis but relieved to finally put a name to Isaac's suffering.  Dave then told me that CHEO had ordered Isaac down to Ottawa and that he would be brought by air ambulance within a few hours.  (Here we are strapped onto the gurney and attached to every sort of monitor getting ready to be placed on the helicopter.  Clearly my right cheek was doing some strange sort of panic-induced flush!)  Throughout this time we really and truly had no idea whether or not Isaac was going to survive this illness.  Hospital staff have a way of growing very silent and serious when something critical is underway.  I try not to overhear whispered conversations and information relayed by telephone between hospitals.  I just prayed and prayed and prayed.
Dave was Dave:  he smiled, nodded encouragement at me and never once let on that he would later wonder at the significance of Isaac's name - the son whom Abraham offered up in a sacrifice of faith only to be given him back at the last moment.

After getting off the phone with Dave, I rushed madly around the house trying to pack for me, Sarah, Dave and Isaac.  I kept trying to eat and have a cup of tea but my mind was in such a whir that I couldn't settle to any task for more than a few minutes.  Thankfully my mother-in-law had arrived and I knew that the other children were now in good hands.  She also suggested that we bring Hannah with us in order to help with Sarah.  Thank God for that suggestion:  Hannah was a God-send and introduced a wonderful sense of normalcy and humour, as well as another set of hands.)  I then set off for the hospital with Hannah and Sarah, stopping briefly at our church to ask for prayers.

We were airlifted out (first chopper ride for mom) and Dave, Hannah and Sarah drove down to meet us.  We were admitted into isolation by Sunday evening and the girls and I checked into the Rotel (Rotary Hotel which is in view of Isaac's window) and Dave has been spending the nights with Isaac.  (A teacher will do anything for a holiday...)  The boys are with their paternal grandparents at the farm from which reports of feistiness are regularly issued.

Sarah was mostly oblivious to the change in circumstances.  She nursed, slept and lived off of Activia yogurt, vanilla-flavoured.

After arrival at CHEO:  we were all so tired; however, adrenaline is powerful stuff and I really did feel OK despite not having eaten or slept in quite a while.  The morning-shift nurse at BB told me that she calls pneumonia the sleeping sickness and was very upset that Isaac hadn't already been put on antibiotics during the night.  She was a God-send as she reassured me that I hadn't been negligent and thanked me that I had brought him in when he did.  Medical staff really do care:  I ran into the night-nurse a week later at the pharmacy.  She told me that she had called CHEO personally wondering how Isaac was doing.

The girls high-fiveing.  I think that Hannah enjoyed every moment of this terrible adventure:  a hotel, restaurant food, unlimited TV, no brothers and no school.

Isaac chained to his hospital bed by an IV line.  This is on Day 3 when he was allowed his first popsicle.  He licked it once and insisted on holding it until it melted into an orange puddle.  I still haven't been able to remove the orange stains from his pajama top.

He clutched his blankie throughout every minute of his hospital stays.  He would throw it over his eyes in an attempt to block out his surroundings and would rub it earnestly between his middle and index fingers.  If he couldn't find his blanket, he would scream frantically for Inkie.  He hasn't let it out of his sight since arriving home.  He was so traumatised by the events that anything unfamiliar was completely unwelcome. We bought him new Superman pajamas on his first night out of the hospital:  he insisted that they were Joe's and screamed if we tried to put them on him.  It was only just a few days ago that he would wear anything but his winter boots on his feet, in 20 degree weather.

This video was made for Jacob on his tenth birthday.  He had prayed for Isaac's healing on the twins' birthday.  His prayer was answered.

These photos were all taken after Isaac was granted a walking pass which meant that he could be off of his heart-rate and oxygen saturation monitors.  We followed him as he teetered on swollen feet down the hall to a window seat.  We helped him up onto the seat and he looked out at the Ottawa sunset and proclaimed, "Pembroke!"

We have had some ups and downs but, praise God, he has responded well to the powerful antibiotics and is now fever-free without meds.  He is still on an IV drip but at a very low level as his feet became quite swollen (edema) yesterday from the fluids.  The staff were a bit worried about the edema and allowed him to walk around.  He was thrilled to pace the halls with IV in toe (and family) and stand at the window and point at the moon and the cows (?).  He also talked to his brothers and spoke some sentences, which we haven't heard in a while.

He was extremely reluctant to go back into his room and is still quite upset by doctors and nurses.  I have a feeling he will inherit the Culshaw white-coat syndrome!

He is perking up, vitals are good and the fluid on the lung has not increased.  Please pray that he keep going uphill as we are told that things can still turn for the worse on a dime with pneumonia.  Pray that he eats and drinks and that the edema stays away.

The poor little guy lost four pounds over the week and is only just now starting to eat with some normalcy.

His toilet training also went out the window.  Dehydration does keep things in check, though.

Despite freedom from his hospital bed, he was still pretty miserable.

These two weren't.

There have been so many blessings during this time, small and large.  Some of the greatest blessings are:

1.  Fr. Galen came in yesterday and anointed Isaac and brought Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament to Dave and me.  Fr. Galen's presence was immensely comforting, both a cherished friend and a priest.  Literally, Christ walked into the room and the tears flowed and all was well.  (He even offered to do our laundry.)

2.  So many good friends have offered tremendous help:  prayer, places to stay, food, babysitting, godparents fasting for his recovery etc.  It was an especial blessing when my good friend Sarah came to visit on Monday night.  We have felt so surrounded by prayer which has hastened Isaac's recovery and kept us strong and peaceful.  For all of you Ann Voskamp fans, there have been many, many thank yous in this hard place - even for the hard stuff.

3.  In hindsight, we can see so many ways that the Lord was preparing us for this - from the purchase of an iPhone over the March Break to the fact that Sarah is unable to get from lying down to sitting and thus will simply lie down on the hotel floor and go to sleep.  Hannah is proving that her name, Hannah Grace (Grace Grace, grace upon grace) was heavenly inspired.  Not only is she tremendously cool under pressure but she also has a tremendous sense of humour.  It is her 10th birthday today and she has already been embarrassed by the cafeteria staff singing to her.  I found her this morning praying beside her bed for her brother.

4.  A social worker came to see Dave yesterday and told him that a doctor had applied for us to receive funding for all of our hotel and parking bills.  The funding was Ok'd and all of our bills, except for food, are covered.  This was a tremendous blessing for Dave's state of mind!

5.  The CHEO staff are amazing and there is so much goodness here.  Great hope.

When we were discharged the first thing that Dave did was give Isaac a bath in the hospital sink.  He is sitting on the fold out chair-bed on which Dave slept next to Isaac's hospital bed.

This is our first official get-out-of-hospital-free photo.  He clearly doesn't grasp the gravity of the moment.  Hannah is holding the lion that he was given by the air-chopper staff when they flew him down to CHEO.  It is wearing a little shirt that says ORNGE, Flying Lion.  It now sits atop a cupboard in the dining room and Dave insists that it is not to be moved from its exalted position.

The day of our discharge was Hannah's tenth birthday so we went to Montana's where Hannah reluctantly wore a moose hat.  I didn't even see Jacob on his tenth birthday.  All quite bittersweet.

Ten!!!????

At least one girl is still a baby.

The next morning we went to a greasy-spoon diner where Isaac ate half a bagel with cream cheese under a sign that read, "You don't have to be Jewish to love bagels!"  Clearly not.

Sarah ate something other than yogurt.

And Hannah had pancakes with fake maple syrup and smiled anyway.

We are now two weeks out of the hospital and Isaac is making a slow and steady recovery.  He is eating more and more heartily and now that his two weeks of antibiotics have ended he has started to drink a little more than a sip here and a sip there.  He had a chest x-ray on Monday which revealed some remaining pleural effusion.  Thus, he has another x-ray scheduled for this coming Monday.  Hopefully it will be clear.  And, after all of this, we are nothing but humbled and so very, very grateful.  I went for a run on the Saturday following his discharge and mid-run I stopped in at our church with the words of Scripture running through my head, "What? Were not ten healed and only you came back to say thank you?"  When I opened the door to the church, the inside of the building was unusually dark and the empty tomb which is left up throughout the Easter season seemed to glow from the front of the church.  The words sprang immediately from my lips, "Thank you for that empty tomb.  Thank you for giving me back our son."

This time has been extremely difficult with all the unknowns but I can see that it is all part of the formation of our family in the civilization of love.  And now I need to go as Isaac has been granted a walking pass.  We are still in the dark as to departure but will keep you posted.

Thank you all for every prayer, mass and blessing.  "Suffering leads to endurance, endurance leads to proven character, character leads to hope and HOPE does not disappoint."  Lots of love, Elena.

Never has Easter been so poignant.  Hopefully never again.

Spelling Bee Champs

 Ben, grade one, told us in January that he wanted to enter the spelling bee.  Dave and I tried to dissuade him as he is a whole-word reader and, at that point, his vocabulary was quite limited.  However, his character shone through, and he insisted that he should be allowed to compete.  We relented and he arrived home with a 20 page book filled with words like ache, language and school.  "Yikes," I thought, as he opened the book and was unable to identify more than a handful of words.  "Opportunity," thought Dave, as he realised that nightly word memorisation would be the key to Ben's progress in reading.

For the next few months Dave and Ben worked out a system of word recognition, memorisation and testing.  I did the dishes.

Ben's vocabulary grew exponentially and his reading shot through the roof.  Moreover, he showed me an aspect of his character that I truly didn't know existed.  He won the primary division which includes grade one through grade three.  As my older sister said, "I knew he could do it.  He's just a quiet guy who gets the job done."  Sort of like his dad.

 This was Jacob's third win.  He won the senior division, grades 4-6.  To his credit, he is a returning champ having won the previous two years' spelling bees.  He was especially focused on winning this year's bee as there is an out-of-school competition this year.  Also to his credit, he was sick as a dog and only came to school that morning for a few hours in order to attend the bee.  He came home immediately afterward to sleep away the afternoon.  We take spelling very seriously.

 Can you tell that he's sick?  He normally doesn't look so cadaverous.

Ben looks hale and hearty and actually hasn't been sick once this whole flu season.  Perhaps I need to run an epidemiological study on him.  I wonder if either of them could spell that word.