One year has passed since we learned our son was going to be born with a congenital heart defect. One year has passed since the doctor broke the news to two new, unsuspecting, naive parents. One year has passed since we laid in our bed, speechless, staring at the ceiling for hours, because we didn't know how to react. One year has passed since there were more questions than there were answers. One year has passed since we cried at the thought of our child needing surgery in the first few months of his life.
Today, we sit here at the hospital, Holden fresh off his third operation, doing as well as any kid could in his position. Back then it seemed like the end of the world. That seems so distant now. We couldn't be blessed with a better kid.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
The Glenn Procedure
Holden, you're having surgery again. Don't tell your Mom. |
All in all, the Glenn is an operation that will tie off a few things to restrict blood flow to some of the lower areas of his body. (We really could launch into the intricacies of the Glenn, but we don't think you'd really would care to hear us attempt semi-intelligent doctor speak.) The goal is simple, assist Holden in his ongoing quest to gain weight. Today, sitting at a stout 13 lbs 6 oz, Holden is a far cry from that peanutty 4 lbs 13 oz baby that blessed us last fall, but is still a tad undersized, even for a Flynn.
We've been told that the effects will be seen almost immediately, and his overworked heart will scale it back a few beats, allowing his lungs to benefit. The doctor says that it will leave him looking blue for a couple days. We, like you probably are right now, began blasting images of this through our minds as that news was relayed to us.--->
I apologize for this corny, awful joke. |
Holden will be home in time for Father's Day. He'll pick right back up to where is he now. He'll return to sitting on his own. He'll continue to progressively drag his body across the floor like a snail (the experts claim this leads to crawling). And more importantly, he'll continue to forgo any other physical learning and demand his mom or dad hold his legs so that he might stand. (Someone forgot to tell Holden that standing was a few steps down the line, but he prefers the Franklin D. Roosevelt treatment.)
Funny story. The nurse at preadmission testing was trying to get Holden from a standing and into a seated position for his various tests. He insisted on standing, even though I tried to explain to him, that it's a progression for kids his age. Plank. Roll. Sit. Crawl. Stand. He remained standing for the anesthesiologist. And later, when we met with Dr. DeCampli, he stood and bounced. I said, "Can you believe this kid has a heart issue? He's been like this all day..."
It was only to stop him from crying at the hospital today, but Holden choosing to stare down the pig who built his house of bricks is a total metaphor. Right? |
Thank you!
Trey, Nicole, and Holden
(We will be updating Holden's status on Facebook and Twitter throughout the day. Please feel free to follow along)
Also, let me take this chance to remind you, we've got the Miracle Miles in a little over three months! Mark your calendars for September 22, 2012. Team Tin Man will dominate once again. TEAM TIN MAN UNITE!
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