Daniel's Diagnosis: Day 2

This morning was hard.

Not having gotten much sleep last night certainly didn't help. Between the constant intrusions by the nurses and my own rampaging thoughts, it was a restless night. I was awakened by the anesthesiologist coming to inform me that Daniel had been scheduled for surgery at 10a - much earlier than we anticipated. I guess it was good news, but right away Andrea needed to rush to get back down here to Riley before he went in. She did with plenty of time to spare. Daniel was nervous and irritable from the start and certainly understandably so. He was (and still is) in a lot more pain than expected from the bone marrow biopsy yesterday. But the procedure itself didn't go well and they had to go back in 2 or 3 times with two different doctors taking a turn at drilling into his pelvis before they finally got what they needed ... probably the reason I had to leave the room ... twice.

Though nearly 10 years ago now, I can vividly recall the first time I took him to the pediatrician to get an immunization. I had mixed emotions about the immunizations anyway and wasn't at all sure I wanted to do it. I will never forget the look in his eyes at that moment when I placed him on the table and the nurse stuck him in the thigh with a needle for the first time in his life. There was several seconds pause while his little brain processed what had just happened to him and then he looked straight at me as if to say, "I trusted you! How could you!?" and I instantly burst into tears myself and was upset for the rest of the day. Actually, I'm still upset about that.

So the act of helping push his gurney down to the OR this morning and handing him over to a doctor that was going to put a subcutaneous pin cushion into him so he could begin what (I hope) will be the worst experience of his life over the coming months. I saw that same look in his eyes as I tried to calm him, tell him I loved him, and that this was all for the best. As my own tears came again, the doctors and nurses swore several times that they'd take good care of him. They could see it in my eyes as well as his. His mother and I prayed for him, kissed him, wished him luck and promised to see him shortly, and then I went to the men's room and cried again.

Things got better from there though. After forcing down a few bites for lunch, we began meeting friends and family members in what became a steady stream of visitors throughout the day. It was good for all of us. I was shortly met by the doctor who performed the port placement who told me everything went great and that the following spinal tap should only take another 30-40 minutes. I very good friend of mine showed up followed shortly by my parents, and the recovery room team let all 5 of us come to his bedside as he woke up. I was there when he opened his eyes and was able to hold his hand as he gradually came to with mom beside me. He began complaining of pain in his chest and was given a small dose of morphine. It did the trick, but only lasted about 5 minutes. We rolled him back up to the room and tried to make him comfortable, but he was complaining quite a bit about his chest and hip.

Then his friends began to show up and almost miraculously, I didn't hear another complaint about pain from him for, literally, the rest of the day. I said to several people that having his friends around was clearly a better pain medicine even than morphine! We found another set of remotes for his Wii console, and he spent the rest of the afternoon playing LEGO Star Wars III and once again, the Daniel I know as my son. Thank you Lord for that gift to all of us. Thank you to our friends who were able to come by, and thank you to our many MANY friends who sent their love to us via Facebook, email, text & voice messages, and most important of all - via prayer.

As I sit here now trying to summarize this day, we've been informed by the nurse that she'll be coming in every 2 hours to wake up Daniel to pee so that his now-caustic urine doesn't breakdown his skin if it touches it. Another long night ahead. He slept for awhile, but after taking the first round of steroids and some Tylenol for his 104deg fever, he's now wide awake & watching Braveheart ... seems appropriate enough in facing the battle ahead. We're obviously hoping for a different outcome though. :)

One last positive note: we did receive word that the tests of his spinal fluid from the tap this morning came back negative ... no leukemia in the spinal sheath. That was wonderful news to hear as well. Thank you Lord for each little piece of good news along the way, and thank you prayer warriors for keeping us surrounded with the presence, peace, love, and hope of Jesus.

- Tim -