Three Steps Back...

Today started off well. It was a crisp, sunny morning, and I drove to school in my black Pontiac Sunfire (which is in need of a bath), listening to Phish with the sun roof open. Nothing like a beautiful spring day and some good old tunes that I enjoyed back in high school and college to make you smile and enjoy life. Some 8th graders were doing a spoof of the television show, The Office (which, along with Brewer games and assorted Discovery Channel specials amounts to the majority of my tv viewing), and these students managed to twist my arm into playing the role of Jim in their digital video project. Some other good faculty friends of mine were portraying the roles of Angela, Dwight and Michael, among others. What a fun idea, I thought to myself, and a nice way to connect with some former students before they venture into the high school.

My phone rang at 9:30 a.m. with a 447 exchange, signaling that it was the hospital. Our doctor called stating that she thought that Hope might have an infection and therefore decided to do a series of tests. She mentioned repeatedly that I shouldn't be alarmed (in all seriousness, she is a very sweet woman and did the best she could not to cause a certain sensitive dad to get anxious and upset about his girls). This was comforting as best as it could be, and I finished up my classes and school business and then called back for an update. Here is where the story turns for the worse. While the initial tests came back negative, Hope had a series of frequent apnea alarms and landed herself off of the nasal cannula. The nurses/doctors switched her back to the CPAP system, but that, too, did not work for Hope. So, where we ended up is with Hope on the ventilator with the machine doing her breathing for her. Little Hope got pooped and decided not to breathe on her own at this point. When I got word of this Jeni and I began to fear the worst and traveled to St. Joe's to be with our daughter.

Hope did not look like herself. The wide-eyed cheeky monkey was sullen and pale, eyes shut and laboring to breathe with the machine making her chest go up and down. Her hands felt clammy and she looked wiped-out. The nurse who was taking care of Hope was so sweet and rubbed my back a bit until Jeni arrived moments later (while I do my very best to "hang in there" and be strong, I just lost it at this point). The doctor on duty came over and mentioned that he thought that Hope had a low grade infection, but didn't appear to be critically ill. He thought that a likely source of infection is the IV line in Hope's arm. He started Hope on a series of general antibiotics to try to combat anything that could be bugging her, and mentioned that if indeed this is an infection, it may take weeks for her to start coming around. Oddly enough, while I had never met this doctor before, he mentioned his son playing on a Little League team with a current student of mine and knowing that student's family. The power of connection, as I mentioned way back when in an early post is so huge, and one of the reasons why Jeni and I chose to put our story out here. While this doctor was originally a stranger, hearing how he was connected to mutual friends and his gentle smile made me feel ok with knowing that he would be keeping a watchful eye on our little girl.

How fast things change! Yesterday was family picture time- and less than 24 hours later, here we are with one of the most challenging days we've encountered since our girls entered the NICU 6 weeks ago tomorrow. Thank God that these girls are in such a good hospital with doctors and nurses who care about them. Thank God that, if Hope does indeed have an infection, that there are systems that can be put in place to combat it as best as we can. Thank God that Grace gained 50 grams (or 10 dog treats worth of weight... I've learned with two babies in the NICU that you need to take the good with the bad). Thank God for Maggie, our dog, who has sat by my side and let me pet her soft silky coat and scratch behind her ears while I write this. Thank God for all of you who are reading this who will continue to hold our family in your prayers. Thank God that tomorrow morning will come, and regardless of the weather or the choice of music, I'll put one foot in front of the other, keep my chin up, and get ready to face another day.