The Fever that Changed the Journey Part Seven: Back for Biopsy

Back for Biopsy
Late Monday morning my in-laws had arrived from Indiana to stay with our daughters while we were once again contained in the hospital with Rhyse.  Thank God for family.
Checking back into the hospital is no easy task when you had just checked out three days prior.  Rhyse was frantic and unwilling to be taken out of his stroller, screaming and shaking from fear.  The minute we arrived on the tenth floor he was ready to fight tooth and nail to get back on the elevators.  He pointed at the doors with all he was worth, and it was a wretched feeling pulling him in the opposite direction.

By the time we arrived on the tenth floor the entire staff had heard about Rhyse’s bout with the IVs a few days prior, and everyone was nervous about repeating the incident. I did, however, take great comfort in being on the tenth floor—my ‘second home’ since Rhyse’s birth.  If there’s anywhere in the 12 story building I feel most comfortable and encouraged and loved, it’s on the hematology floor.

After waiting over and hour for any signs of life, Mary and Kris walked into the room, two nurses that have been with Rhyse since birth.  These ladies are fantastic.  But what gave me hope and comfort was their attitude and actions.  They stormed into the room saying, “Mary and I just prayed and asked Jesus to help us get this stick the first time and we believe it!”  Mary is the nurse I had asked for while in the ER, but hadn’t been on shift that day. And would you believe, she did it!  The very first try was successful!  They will never know how much their prayer and their words meant to me.  Those tiny words, “thank you” aren’t nearly enough. A few minutes after the stick, Dr. F walked into the room, Rhyse’s primary hematologist, wrapped me up in her arms and just hugged.  I forced back the tears, thankful that Rhyse had such an incredible team of doctors and nurses.  We were in a holding pattern of complete relief behind one door, or terrifying cancer behind the other; which door would I be thrust through?

After the IV and blood draws Rhyse was admitted to the ninth floor to begin preparation for a biopsy and bone marrow aspiration on Wednesday.  His platelets were at a 12 month low at 53k and he needed at least one transfusion during the night in order to have the surgery. Jon arrived after work and we spent the evening in casual conversation, trying not to focus on the worst.

Late that evening I left for home, leaving Jon to spend the night with Rhyse so I could go home and be with my girls, and get some well overdue sleep.  We both know that sleep deprivation and stress are a lethal combination, so we always make sure we take turns sleeping at the hospital.

On Wednesday morning I returned to the hospital anxious for the surgery to get underway.  Fortunately he was scheduled fairly early so the wait wasn’t too long.  I don’t know much about biopsies and what information the doctors have immediately, and how long it takes to get comprehensive results.  But waiting seems to be the underlayment of our lives with a child who has a genetic mutation.  No fast-food answers, ever.

The Fever that Changed the Journey Part Eight: The Answer

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