Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Today I was sitting and watching a movie and I found ribbons that daughter #2 had pulled out of her hair. I started weeping because I remember Stacy's and my trip to the ribbon and trimmings store in Manhattan. We bought so many ribbons there for her hair. Her beautiful blonde hair She really liked the wild look though, so she rarely wore her ribbons even though she thought they were pretty. Thank you Jaime for going to the ribbon store that day.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
There are circumstances where a story is just easier to begin at the end. On September 30th 2005 my 5-year-old, Stacy was taken off life support, her brain irreparably damaged from intracranial pressure due to an ependymoma brain tumor.
On Tuesday of that week, we packed up our car and got ready to move across the country to New Jersey. mY sister had let us borrow a bunch of her DVD's for the trip. Nick's mom had helped stock the car with food and toys. Our "real life" was about to begin. We'd just spent a whole summer with my husband's family so we could save money while my dear husband studied for the bar exam. Stacy was sick, but we'd taken her to the doctor the day before. She'd been sick for a week with headaches, vomiting, and her eyes were hurting her. The family doctor suggested that we get a formal eye exam for her after the move. The headaches seemed to be controlled by ibubrofen and tylenol. But as soon as a headache would set in she would vomit. She was losing weight and of course, had very little energy. I was scared, but I didn't know what else to do. The doctor didn't seem to think it was serious, and I was anxious for my husband to start his new job with health insurance so we could get to the bottom of the problem. In one week we would have benefits.
As we loaded up the car we were all in tears. Nick's mom took pictures of our little family. Stacy, of course was in her star and flower jeans. Rebecca was in her new "school" clothes (even though she didn't go to school.) As we walked out the door, Nick's parents gave each of the girls a big bag of presents for the trip and a $5 bill. It might as well have been a million dollars to those girls. We set the brand new DVD player up in the backs seat of the car. Nick sat in the back seat between the girls so he could administer drugs to Stacy and watch the movies.
Rebecca was a complete angel in the car. Stacy was silent most of the time, occasionally she kick the driver's seat and scream out in pain. The first day she didn't vomit until the evening time. The second day she spent her $5 bill on rainbow-colored popcorn, but couldn't keep any food down. The second evening we carried her into the hotel. She could walk, but didn't want to. My husband started crying because he was scared, and I didn't know what to do for Stacy. I'd felt my concerns rejected by the doctor, so I left Stacy resting with Nick and went swimming with Rebecca. After swimming with Rebecca in the hotel swimming pool, I ran a couple of miles on the treadmill. When I arrived Stacy was throwing up again. I was up with her all night because she would moan in pain and occasionally vomit. The next day we carried her to the car. She was quite lethargic. She'd been up all night. When Nick got in the back seat because it was my turn to drive, he had the overwhelming impression that we needed to get to the hospital right away. So we ended up in Angola, Indiana. They immediately took us seriously. I really didn't think they would, after my concerns had been shrugged off in Utah, but they took one look at her and rushed her in. They gave her a drug, I can't even remember what it was, to help her relax. She started getting a rash so they put her on some oxygen. Then she started shivering uncontrollably. (Can you say shock?) They asked her if she wanted blankets, and she said "Yes please." After that she seemingly fell asleep. They rolled her to CT scan, found the "mass" and called a life flight to Indianapolis. The doctor recommended Riley Children's Hospital. We could do nothing but agree. What did we know about such things? Nick sent me on the life flight; right before we got on the life flight she stopped breathing on her own and they had to breathe for her. When we finally got to Indiana the doctor was checking her out. Her pupils were fixed, and I later found out that if she had been an adult they probably never would have even operated. But kids, they are resilient, and they rushed her to surgery...a surgery to relieve the pressure on her brain and then to remove the tumor.
I waited in the waiting room, just sick, just a total wreck. How could this be happening to our beautiful daughter who, hours before just wanted to hold the DVD player on her lap so she could see it better? I was sipping Sprite, but I was too shaken up, so I just vomited into the trash can. A couple of Indiana families surrounded me with their love, and I had to tell our whole sad story, and then vomit nothing into the trash can again. A kind man brought me soda crackers and water. I tried to nibble, but you guessed it, I just vomited into the trash can again. Those families left to go see their kids, but they told the nurse that I shouldn't be alone, so the hospital chaplain came to be with me. I had tell the story again, and I ...... The chaplain asked all those questions to help me share my feelings. I was actually annoyed, but I knew that I probably needed this psychiatric help, so I answered every question and as I was talking I knew that my worst fear was not that my daughter would die, but that she would live in a body that didn't work, that she would be hooked up to machines her whole life, and that she wouldn't be herself after this. The thought that she would die never even occurred to me. I just prayed that she wouldn't have to live like that. And I prayed that my husband would be able to drive with a clear head during this most difficult of times and that he and daughter #2 would be safe.
My husband arrived after I had been waiting in the surgical waiting room and hour or so. He was safe. Thank you... The surgery was going to last a long time, that is just the way brain surgery is, so the chaplain helped us find a hotel at a discounted price and we left to get what sleep we could. On our way to the hotel, someone from our church called and said that he was coming straight from the airport to the hospital before he went home to be with us. Nick dropped daughter #2 and me off at the hotel, and went back to the hospital to meet him. Elder Chipman gave my husband a priesthood blessing and talked to him and told us that he and his wife would be around to help us. And they were there, both of them, our own guardian angels, helping us through the hardest thing we had ever done in our lives.
Nick fell into bed when he got back, and I just slept. Can you believe that I could sleep? When I tell people that I can sleep through anything, I mean it. The phone rang at about 2 AM. It was the neurosurgeon. He could only say that the surgery had gone "okay" and that there was some damage to the brain. And that we'd talk more tomorrow after we saw how she was doing. I fell back asleep, and then woke up at 5 AM. I needed to go to the hospital. I needed to be with Stacy. But daughter #2 was still asleep, so I anxiously waited. Then we packed up and checked out of the hotel and rushed back to the hospital. Daughter #2 wasn't too keen about hanging out in the ICU, so Nick and I determined to take turns, one of us with Stacy, and one of us with daughter #2. Then the hospital sent someone to be daughter #2's companion. She brought coloring books and puzzles and marvelled at daughter #2's ability to put the puzzles together. The hospital staff member took daughter #2 to a play group where she painted 3 figurines (Tweety, Oliver, and Brinly), one for her, one for me, and one for Stacy. As daughter #2 was busy, the neurosurgeon was explaining to us that Stacy's hypothalamus was damaged, and he'd never ever seen anyone recover from that kind of brain injury. He wanted to perform more tests for brain activity, but he told us we probably would have the decision ahead of us to take her off life support.
We broke the news to our family and friends. Rebecca came in and told the nurse that Stacy was going to live with Jesus now. The nurse started crying. Then Rebecca went with dear Sister Chipman, a brand-new friend. Sister Chipman took her away from this stressful situation into her beautiful home. Rebecca played with her grandchildren. She wore special pajamas to bed. She was incredibly well-cared for.
When the doctor did the tests twice without any response, Nick and I quickly made the decision to let her go, and we just did it, we didn't wait for anyone. Kind Elder John Chipman was with us as we had to make this decision, and with us as they put Stacy into my arms and removed all the cords that were keeping her alive.
Our parents were catching airplanes to be with us as soon as they could. When they arrived Stacy just looked asleep, covered by a hand-crocheted pink blanket donated to the hospital. We had spent the time waiting by her body, brushing her hair, cleaning her skin. Those last moments with that part her of her are so precious. Every moment with Stacy was SO precious. The Child life specialists brought a bag for us to give to Becca with lots of books and a cheer bear. They pressed Stacy's hands into molds so that we would have hand impressions.
After the mortuary took her body, the Chipmans took us all into their home. They treated us as if we were their children, lifted us up, and then sent us on our way to our New Jersey home.
Our first day in New Jersey, we were welcomed by our friends. So many of our friends travelled from Manhattan and Jersey City to be with us. Oh we love our friends, and we will never forget you guys filling our home. It would have been so empty and lonely without you. Thank you one million times for coming and unloading the truck and bringing your children and unpacking my boxes and playing with Rebecca, for buying us dish soap and garbage cans, and making meals! If only every family that ever moved could be greeted in such a way.
On Tuesday of that week, we packed up our car and got ready to move across the country to New Jersey. mY sister had let us borrow a bunch of her DVD's for the trip. Nick's mom had helped stock the car with food and toys. Our "real life" was about to begin. We'd just spent a whole summer with my husband's family so we could save money while my dear husband studied for the bar exam. Stacy was sick, but we'd taken her to the doctor the day before. She'd been sick for a week with headaches, vomiting, and her eyes were hurting her. The family doctor suggested that we get a formal eye exam for her after the move. The headaches seemed to be controlled by ibubrofen and tylenol. But as soon as a headache would set in she would vomit. She was losing weight and of course, had very little energy. I was scared, but I didn't know what else to do. The doctor didn't seem to think it was serious, and I was anxious for my husband to start his new job with health insurance so we could get to the bottom of the problem. In one week we would have benefits.
As we loaded up the car we were all in tears. Nick's mom took pictures of our little family. Stacy, of course was in her star and flower jeans. Rebecca was in her new "school" clothes (even though she didn't go to school.) As we walked out the door, Nick's parents gave each of the girls a big bag of presents for the trip and a $5 bill. It might as well have been a million dollars to those girls. We set the brand new DVD player up in the backs seat of the car. Nick sat in the back seat between the girls so he could administer drugs to Stacy and watch the movies.
Rebecca was a complete angel in the car. Stacy was silent most of the time, occasionally she kick the driver's seat and scream out in pain. The first day she didn't vomit until the evening time. The second day she spent her $5 bill on rainbow-colored popcorn, but couldn't keep any food down. The second evening we carried her into the hotel. She could walk, but didn't want to. My husband started crying because he was scared, and I didn't know what to do for Stacy. I'd felt my concerns rejected by the doctor, so I left Stacy resting with Nick and went swimming with Rebecca. After swimming with Rebecca in the hotel swimming pool, I ran a couple of miles on the treadmill. When I arrived Stacy was throwing up again. I was up with her all night because she would moan in pain and occasionally vomit. The next day we carried her to the car. She was quite lethargic. She'd been up all night. When Nick got in the back seat because it was my turn to drive, he had the overwhelming impression that we needed to get to the hospital right away. So we ended up in Angola, Indiana. They immediately took us seriously. I really didn't think they would, after my concerns had been shrugged off in Utah, but they took one look at her and rushed her in. They gave her a drug, I can't even remember what it was, to help her relax. She started getting a rash so they put her on some oxygen. Then she started shivering uncontrollably. (Can you say shock?) They asked her if she wanted blankets, and she said "Yes please." After that she seemingly fell asleep. They rolled her to CT scan, found the "mass" and called a life flight to Indianapolis. The doctor recommended Riley Children's Hospital. We could do nothing but agree. What did we know about such things? Nick sent me on the life flight; right before we got on the life flight she stopped breathing on her own and they had to breathe for her. When we finally got to Indiana the doctor was checking her out. Her pupils were fixed, and I later found out that if she had been an adult they probably never would have even operated. But kids, they are resilient, and they rushed her to surgery...a surgery to relieve the pressure on her brain and then to remove the tumor.
I waited in the waiting room, just sick, just a total wreck. How could this be happening to our beautiful daughter who, hours before just wanted to hold the DVD player on her lap so she could see it better? I was sipping Sprite, but I was too shaken up, so I just vomited into the trash can. A couple of Indiana families surrounded me with their love, and I had to tell our whole sad story, and then vomit nothing into the trash can again. A kind man brought me soda crackers and water. I tried to nibble, but you guessed it, I just vomited into the trash can again. Those families left to go see their kids, but they told the nurse that I shouldn't be alone, so the hospital chaplain came to be with me. I had tell the story again, and I ...... The chaplain asked all those questions to help me share my feelings. I was actually annoyed, but I knew that I probably needed this psychiatric help, so I answered every question and as I was talking I knew that my worst fear was not that my daughter would die, but that she would live in a body that didn't work, that she would be hooked up to machines her whole life, and that she wouldn't be herself after this. The thought that she would die never even occurred to me. I just prayed that she wouldn't have to live like that. And I prayed that my husband would be able to drive with a clear head during this most difficult of times and that he and daughter #2 would be safe.
My husband arrived after I had been waiting in the surgical waiting room and hour or so. He was safe. Thank you... The surgery was going to last a long time, that is just the way brain surgery is, so the chaplain helped us find a hotel at a discounted price and we left to get what sleep we could. On our way to the hotel, someone from our church called and said that he was coming straight from the airport to the hospital before he went home to be with us. Nick dropped daughter #2 and me off at the hotel, and went back to the hospital to meet him. Elder Chipman gave my husband a priesthood blessing and talked to him and told us that he and his wife would be around to help us. And they were there, both of them, our own guardian angels, helping us through the hardest thing we had ever done in our lives.
Nick fell into bed when he got back, and I just slept. Can you believe that I could sleep? When I tell people that I can sleep through anything, I mean it. The phone rang at about 2 AM. It was the neurosurgeon. He could only say that the surgery had gone "okay" and that there was some damage to the brain. And that we'd talk more tomorrow after we saw how she was doing. I fell back asleep, and then woke up at 5 AM. I needed to go to the hospital. I needed to be with Stacy. But daughter #2 was still asleep, so I anxiously waited. Then we packed up and checked out of the hotel and rushed back to the hospital. Daughter #2 wasn't too keen about hanging out in the ICU, so Nick and I determined to take turns, one of us with Stacy, and one of us with daughter #2. Then the hospital sent someone to be daughter #2's companion. She brought coloring books and puzzles and marvelled at daughter #2's ability to put the puzzles together. The hospital staff member took daughter #2 to a play group where she painted 3 figurines (Tweety, Oliver, and Brinly), one for her, one for me, and one for Stacy. As daughter #2 was busy, the neurosurgeon was explaining to us that Stacy's hypothalamus was damaged, and he'd never ever seen anyone recover from that kind of brain injury. He wanted to perform more tests for brain activity, but he told us we probably would have the decision ahead of us to take her off life support.
We broke the news to our family and friends. Rebecca came in and told the nurse that Stacy was going to live with Jesus now. The nurse started crying. Then Rebecca went with dear Sister Chipman, a brand-new friend. Sister Chipman took her away from this stressful situation into her beautiful home. Rebecca played with her grandchildren. She wore special pajamas to bed. She was incredibly well-cared for.
When the doctor did the tests twice without any response, Nick and I quickly made the decision to let her go, and we just did it, we didn't wait for anyone. Kind Elder John Chipman was with us as we had to make this decision, and with us as they put Stacy into my arms and removed all the cords that were keeping her alive.
Our parents were catching airplanes to be with us as soon as they could. When they arrived Stacy just looked asleep, covered by a hand-crocheted pink blanket donated to the hospital. We had spent the time waiting by her body, brushing her hair, cleaning her skin. Those last moments with that part her of her are so precious. Every moment with Stacy was SO precious. The Child life specialists brought a bag for us to give to Becca with lots of books and a cheer bear. They pressed Stacy's hands into molds so that we would have hand impressions.
After the mortuary took her body, the Chipmans took us all into their home. They treated us as if we were their children, lifted us up, and then sent us on our way to our New Jersey home.
Our first day in New Jersey, we were welcomed by our friends. So many of our friends travelled from Manhattan and Jersey City to be with us. Oh we love our friends, and we will never forget you guys filling our home. It would have been so empty and lonely without you. Thank you one million times for coming and unloading the truck and bringing your children and unpacking my boxes and playing with Rebecca, for buying us dish soap and garbage cans, and making meals! If only every family that ever moved could be greeted in such a way.
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