New Journey

It is going to slow down soon...

I'm at the hospital and my son is doing much better. He began to eat a little today, using the new and improved esophagus and testing the repaired stomach.

Seems to be working.

Lots of milestones for him today. Eating, a drainage tube removed, the intravenous nutrition cut off. He is walking better. Bodily functions, the three common states of matter, gas, liquid, and solids, all being handled in the most mortal of ways.

Isaac has gone through a lot of changes this past week. He's known more pain. He has had time to reflect (see earlier post where I captured some of those thoughts) and seems more aware of everything around him... people, events. More empathetic.

I think that is normal. I know the traumas of my life led me to feel more deeply...

They just removed the last IV tube! The ports are still there, and he still has one more drainage bag in his abdomen... I've been writing this post one paragraph at a time... A little writing, then help him walk, a little more writing, then help him sit up, a little more writing, and then guide him to the bathroom, a little more writing, and then elevate his feet...

Anyway, back to this post...

This hospital stay has been a bit of a journey in many ways for him.

He has become more self aware too. And self assured.

When the fellow, Steve, the guy best at inserting tubes, was here to attempt the drain tube through his nose a few days ago, he asked: "Shall I call you 'Isaac', or 'Mr. Greenleaf'?"

"Call me Mr. Greenleaf."

Huh!

He learned to say "no" this week. He has always been so compliant. I got a text message from Brenda yesterday saying his constipation was preventing them from giving him the Jello, and he was refusing the suppository that would help.

I walked him through the reasoning for such strange medicine and he took another brave move into a new world of remedies.

I am so tired... Been coming and going... Canby to Portland, Portland to Canby. Scooting along in that Ford Mustang I bought on New Year's Eve... None of my sleep for the last week was uninterupted. It will be better soon.

He is supposed to go home tomorrow. Hope it happens. There have been many changes to such predictions in the past.I suppose this hospital stay of his has been a journey of my own.

It began with me doing most of the watching over him. Brenda flew in on her... well... I really should change her ringtone to something kinder... the witch theme from the Wizard of Oz is a little sarcastic (but it does make me smile)... anyway, she flew in and took over. Or tried to. I stopped her and then let her, on my terms.

She asked to talk in the hospital cafeteria. Two elevator rides, six hallways, in subdued non-conversation. She asked if she could help care for Isaac after he was discharged.

"It is going to be difficult caring for him and I would like to help."

"That isn't going to happen," I said.

She became indignant.

"Nope. The closest you can come to my home is the end of the driveway, and I would prefer you didn't do that."

"Well!"

"Sorry, that is how it will be. I need my own place. Having you there, going through my fridge, fixing meals, sweeping floors. It's not what divorced people do."

"They do if they are mature."

"Name one."

She struggled to answer in silence. She grabbed her coat, got up, started to leave.

I didn't even glance at her.

"You can go if you like," I said, looking at my grapefruit juice, "but I was going to offer a way for you to be a part of this."

She returned to her seat. It sorted of spoiled the dramatic effect she was going for.

"You want to be a part of Isaac's recovery... fine. It just isn't going to be in my home. You can have the hospital. You can take the time off work if you want, you can spend all the time you want here. You can talk to the doctors, make sure things go smooth. But, when he is discharged it is all mine. And... you need to keep me informed of all developments, and you have to give me privacy with him when I come to visit."

She nodded agreement.

I was glad I paid for her coffee. Such small moves in the weird chess game we play count.

Since that move in the cafeteria, the one of setting boundaries, where my white bishop slid through her pawns and removed her queen, changed the game forever.

She wavered a bit during the week, seeking to understand the new point of equilibrium between us. Sometimes she sulked, sometimes she was chatty and overly clear in her suggestions. My face displayed no emotion, and when she went too far in her chattiness or her suggestions, I let my gaze slip away as if I wasn't listening anymore.

She has begun to treat me with the respect I know I deserve.

It's a new journey.

How Am I?

Email to me: "...Please write a short note on your CS blog and tell all of us how YOU are doing, and how Isaac is doing..."

Oh yeah. Me.

It is easy writing about Isaac. Parents focus on their children.

OK, this is a blog about my life... ruminations on faith, love, life, science, just about any idea and experience which rolls through my noggin. So, I'll share about me.

But first, Isaac update (well... that is what is first on my mind).

The surgery last Wednesday went well. The muscle at the base of the esophagus was cut so food would fall into his stomach (the nerves of the esophagus have died by a fluke of the machinations of his body's autoimmune system). There was also an infection would have to be addressed once his ability to swallow returned. Additionally... a tumor in the stomach. The operation removed the tumor as well as the muscle at the stomach.

On Friday the staple at the site of the tumor popped off and the contents (mostly juice) flowed into his abdomen, bringing much pain. That night, after a CT scan identified the problem, he had an urgent second operation. That set him back. I think yesterday he had 8 tubes going into or out of his body.

Saturday they said he would be in three or four more days. They said it with little certainty. I told Brenda (my somewhat intense ex) she can care for Isaac in the hospital, but when he is released to come home, it is my home, my business. (She did not take it well.)

Now... How am I doing?

Emotionally, physically, mentally, and I suppose to some extent, spiritually, exhausted.

I was continually surprised how quickly time passed in the hospital. It seems I spend time doing nothing, waiting for information, waiting on Isaac, waiting for nurses or doctors or tests. Yet time flies by. I think it is though there aren't specific tasks to be done there was always something immediately to be done, just little. Helping him sit up, getting a nurse for more morphine, explaining what I learned about his progress, texting folks who have questions. The little stuff adds up and I am actually much busier than it would seem.

Spending nights in that chair is not truly restful. Every time a nurse comes in I get up and check on what is happening, what his latest condition is. Nights comprise of 20 minute segments of sleep.

I try to eat properly, go get a real meal somewhere, but it is inconvenient. Most of my food is prepackaged sandwiches and large amounts of coffee. I know it isn't healthy and contributes to an overall sense of not being physically at ease.

My spiritual life is a little dry. The concern has all been about Isaac... his body, his attitude, his emotions, his spirit, his care. My prayers have been focused on him and I guess I haven't given much thought about me. Still, worship on Sunday was full, meaningful, but that is outward, or rather, upward.

I have not gone for many predawn walks in the woods of late. I haven't had much time for the inflowing of the spiritual forces into my heart and spirit. I guess I'm feeling a little spiritually dry.

Aside from the focus on Isaac I have been mentally distracted concerning my classes. To be absent from my students this much makes it difficult to ensure they make the proper amount of progress in their own studies. My mind goes to those classes frequently.

My emotional growth regarding my divorce is actually doing very well. Brenda has been helpful and distracting, kind and manipulative, and a complication in dealing with Isaac's care, but in terms of boundaries and putting our post marriage relationship into a proper framework, a healthy thing.

She has tried pushing the boundaries of course, and there were subtle and not so subtle aspects to dealing with how we relate to each other. I am finding it ever easier to be firm. She wanted to come help Isaac in my home after his release. It was easy to be clear that it simply is NOT going to happen. I have given her the opportunity to be involved as much as she likes at the hospital, and I have made it clear it ends there.

I care for her as I care for anyone who is in a bad spot, I simply do not feel I have to act on any of it. If she needs to move out from her boyfriend, or take time from work, or deal with anything, that is all her business. Not at all mine. I'd rather not discuss it.

When she pushes I smile and tell her that if she wants to move the conversation beyond the boundaries I have set, I will walk away.

She flusters and blusters but acquiesces.

So... How am I doing? I'm tired, and frayed along the edges, but doing quite well overall. I am proud of my son, a little miffed at some students, not getting all the rest and nutrition I should, but, am doing fine.

Thanks for asking!

:)

Expectations

This isn't sleep or grogginess... it is pain

Preparing for Surgery #2

This is Grogginess... after the 2nd surgery

I brought Isaac to the hospital Wednesday morning. That was a long time ago.

He had surgery that afternoon, and things seemed to go well. The nerves in his esophagus have died, his body mistook them for invaders and sent antibodies to deal with them. Because he could not sense the food pushing against the entrance to his stomach the muscle there never opened on its own and he began throwing up the food lodged there. He lost weight.

The surgery opened the confused muscle and now food may fall past it. They also removed a pancreatic tumor in his stomach. Wednesday afternoon.

Was it Friday? Yeah... Friday... they put him on liquids. Cranberry juice is what he asked for... and the pain returned. Terrible pain. He had trouble breathing.

As the day wore on they took various tests, especially when he began founting fluids from his incision.

I went home when Brenda came in... just before they took him in for a CT scan. I was tired. I went and had some dinner... fell asleep. At 6:00 a.m. I checked my phone for messages. They had taken him back in for surgery. The staple for the pancreatic tumor had given way and his abdomen had filled with juice... and water... and a liter of the contrast fluid for the scan.

He is resting now. The pain has greatly subsided. He has tubes coming from his abdomen and nose to drain him. Tubes delivering fluids to his arm, oxygen to his lungs.

Before Brenda came he asked for pain medicine. Not for himself.

"I want a good dose this time," he told the nurse, "...because when I hurt my mom and my dad see it and it makes them sad. I don't want them to cry."

I feel a little frustrated that there was a problem with the surgery. A little frustrated that my comments that his increased pain came with the drinking of the juice and they did not act on it as timely as I would have liked. I expected it to go much better.

But I understand. They saw his symptoms stemming from other causes.

Before Brenda showed I had made him as comfortable as I could. Tried to help him pee (water running, hand in warm water, warm water pouring over him, the sound of a waterfall coming from my iPhone), gave him a sponge bath, lotioned his skin, massaged his shoulders and arms and feet... all the things a helpless parent tries to do...

After all that he started talking. More than I have ever heard him talk before. Gasping in pain... soft music playing in the background... he began to talk.

When I first adopted him I expected to be able to teach him all about the things that are important to me. Since then I have grown accustomed to his mental abilities, but of the last few months he seems more alert (except to his tendency to leave a trail of belongings wherever he goes!). He seems to make more connections, asks deeper questions.

I was astonished at his soliloquy yesterday. He spoke for 15 minutes without stopping. Deep stuff. His life, his faith, social injustice, how his pain was teaching him things. Half way through I began to record it. Through his gasps of pain, over the gentle music playing in his room, he spoke more to me than he has ever had to say before.

It was touching... and... it surprised me how much he has grown.

A dream of mine was what I would be able to teach him... and this little speech showed me he is capable of more than I had thought, and... that he has already learned much. It is more than I expected.

Isaac Reflects on Life, Faith, and Pain

Third Night...

OK... he was to be released yesterday, but a lot of pain and the inability to urinate kept him in another night... and...

There is something leaking inside of him... A lot. He will have to stay another night. We are hoping there won't be another surgery. Cat scan in a little while.

He is also having trouble taking a deep breath.

Another Night

Looks like Isaac will have to spend another night in the hospital until the pain is under control (apparently they won't let me give him morphine at home) and he can go to the bathroom (catheter free).

--2:30 p.m.--

Finally! A pain med that seems to help! He will spend another night in the hospital (until he can go to the bathroom and the pain is under control). AND... he just had a small bowl of pureed chicken soup and for the first time in 2 months, it went straight into his tummy!

Post Op

Operation: Post on Post Op

I ran back to Canby this morning... checked on developments in my classroom (things went OK yesterday... though apparently one boy had managed to move the document folder from the hard drive to the trash and then emptied the trash. I recreated the folder, but the files are lost).

Back at the hospital... Isaac need a catheter last night... and thought it was fine... but feels he is going to need another...

He went in for an x ray this morning...
and he ended up in so much pain.
I hope he didn't open anything up. I've never seen him hurt so bad. Made me cry to see him suffer.

They gave him a sedative and increased the morphine a couple of notches. It seems to make the pain bearable.

Brenda sent me a text thanking me for staying with him last night... (As if I did it to cover for her or something!)

I'm getting a lot of messages via this blog, emails, texts, and facebook comments about how people are praying, wishing him well, just saying nice things. Feels good.

So... there's my update post. I'll let y'all know when I know if I can take him home.

Surgery

The lad wanted everything documented

Isaac was wheeled off to surgery at 1:50 this afternoon. It's now 4:30 and I am too distracted to write well, too bored to do anything else, and too much at peace to worry.

Apparently, about two years ago, Isaac was exposed to a virus, probably something common such as measles, and his body made a mistake. It created antibodies to fight the virus but the body's attack force sighted on the wrong target and began destroying the nerve cells in his esophagus.

Like I said... everything

Over the last couple of months he has lost about 10% of his weight because the food can't get past the clenched...

Pager has gone Off!

To the recovery room!

...

OK... I'm back. It's been a half hour and the doc says everything went well.

The muscle at the bottom of the esophagus has been cut to keep it open so food will get in, and while they were there they removed the suspicious pancreatic tumor (about the size of a nickel... the doctor called it "a cute little thing.").

Throughout all this I have had to deal with Brenda and it hasn't been too bad. She is hinting that she is moving out from her boyfriend's... The subtext isn't hard to read.

She has been dropping hints that she could come over to help with Isaac, and wearing the expression of a lost puppy.

Not buying it. I get what she is selling, and I have had enough of that subscription.

I'm told that sometimes people have a hard time reading me. When I am unsure of a situation I wear an expression devoid of expression.

: /

That's what I wore today.

I'm a naturally loyal person and she relied on that. But I've worn through that tendency when it comes to her.

Three things that make this easy...

First, I no longer love her. The hurts she gave me make it clear she cannot love me the way I need and though I care, that isn't enough to be any more than a dispassionate partner in dealing with issues which arise around our children.

Secondly, I no longer trust her. I forgave too many times, was betrayed too many times, for her to win that trust back.

Lastly, I'm not that masochistic. She isn't good for me. The controlling nature, the emotional demands, emotional abuse, is clearly not what I need, not what God wants for me.

Isaac wanted a picture of every step of the surgery. That included a picture of him prepping for it with Brenda and I in it. She moved to come beside me. I told her to go to the other side of the bed.

Yeah... I could see it smarted. Oh well. This time the cut was by my hand. Simple.

I guess sort of surgical.

She teared up. My face... flat affect.

I don't particularly like the idea that a muscle designed to keep stomach contents, acids and food, in Isaac's stomach has been severed. But it is what is best.

I don't particularly like being unresponsive to someone who seems to be hurting, but it is definitely what is best.

...........

So... it will be an hour or so before I can see him... I think I'll go get something to eat and come back and add more to this when I have more to add

...........

Isaac is in his room... Brenda has left.


What a good boy!

He doesn't want to trouble anyone... but he, hesitantly, asked for pain meds twice. Morphine. He wanted to sleep, but he told the nurse to take her time, not to worry about him.

What a good boy!

He asked me to pray for him. I thought he wanted a blessing, and he said "that too", but what he really wanted was to say a prayer of thanks for all everyone has done for him and for getting through it all.

What a good boy!

"You're a good Dad..." he mumbled. "Thank you for getting me..."

Perhaps it's morphine speaking, but... what a good boy!

Haiti

You've heard.

Tens of thousands dead. Perhaps more than a hundred thousand. Three million homeless.

I have followed the politics, underdevelopment, and misery of that country for a long time.

My children are from there.

If they had not been snatched from the streets during the military coup they would almost certainly have been killed by the roving bands of former policemen who were "cleaning the streets."

If they had not been adopted into my home, they may have died from disease due the lack of sanitation. If they had not been adopted into my home they may have died from lack of proper nutrition. I haven't forgotten the Time magazine image of the little girl making food out of dirt and lard.

Once in a while my sons talk about Haiti. Especially Isaac. The wonder what it's like there. If they have relatives still alive there.

While we were trying to secure residency for Jeremiah (there was a huge oversight by our adoption lawyers and our children were never properly made citizens and had overstayed their medial visas) we feared he would be deported back there.

My sons still bear names from there.

Jeremiah was Fritzno Zephyr. When he was granted permission to leave it was with the stipulation that his last name be Solomon, the name of the mayor of Carrefour. In the states he was given the name Jeremiah. When we adopted him he became Jermiah Fritzno Zephyr Greenleaf.

Isaac was only an infant when complete chaos destroyed what little civilization was there. He was given the name Gary, and he also gained the last name Solomon. In the states he was given the name Isaac. When he was adopted he became Isaac Solomon Greenleaf.

Jeremiah had been badly treated there. The growth plates in his feet had been crushed, probably by something like a baseball bat. There are dents in his head. Additionally there were congenital problems and psychological problems. His first meal in our home began with a bowl of rice. He stared at it, trembling. He wasn't sure what to do with it and the food set for him frightened him. He looked up at me through tears and asked "Is this all for me?"

Isaac wasn't intentionally starved. In fact I believe he was loved there.

Voodoo is common in Haiti and there are many customs people have to ward off evil, and to attract it. They believe werewolves steal beautiful babies so they heat cashews and scar their faces. Isaac bears such scars.

I have followed the politics and culture of Haiti carefully these past 15 years.

It is a hopeless and fearful place. It is a place of horrid poverty, astonishing crime, and absent education. There wasn't much in the way of infrastructure there, and what little there was is rubble today.

My children are fortunate to have escaped.

Millions still groan in fear and pain.

Update Regarding Previous Post

Yesterday's meeting with the surgeon went well. Isaac will have his surgery next Wednesday. I just need to try and get as much nutrition through that blockage as I can until then.

He is actually excited about it. He really wants to be able to eat again.

He will never eat the way most people do. His esophagus has had all its nerve cells die and so it cannot use the muscles to swallow. All of this has stretched it all out of shape (from a inch and a quarter diameter to 3 inches), and so he will have to simply use gravity to get his food down, and there will be nothing to stop it from coming back up... So... no lying down during or within an hour of eating.

On a personal note... Brenda is obviously trying to get back together with me. Lots of strange apologies. Lots of statements about what a big mistake she made. Lots and lots of melodrama.

Which ain't gonna happen.

I maneuvered her through doors, into chairs, through rooms, to keep Isaac between us. Kept it polite, and business like.

When we parted she looked wistfully as we walked away. I glanced back at strategic moments... and she was watching us out of sight.

I am so done with being manipulated!

I almost feel sorry for the guy who had that affair with her. Now it's his turn to deal with the melodrama.

Maybe I should send him a thank you note. I could inscribe within: "Not it!"

Just joking!

Seriously... things have been rough for her lately too. Aside from this serious issue with Isaac, her mother broke her back a few weeks ago, and her father died last week.

But... her happiness is no longer my business.

She sent me an instant message this morning:


Well... that is just a little too obvious.

I care about her, but simply replies, a business like interaction, that is all I want from her.

I am feeling good about my life. What I am doing (bought a mustang New Year's eve! Vroom vroom!).

I don't need that grief anymore.

I'm just going to take care of Isaac.

Isaac

I just typed up an explanation of what is going on with Isaac and I thought I would include you in this...



Here are the details for Isaac:

He has been having a lot of difficulty eating for some time and is losing weight.

He had a barium xray a month ago which indicated a blockage in his esophagus.

Brenda and I took him in or a endoscopy for a closer look. They knocked him out... and found the muscle at the bottom of his esophagus is too large and clenched. They also found some anomalies in his stomach.

We took him back for a motility test where he had the camera inserted but he was conscious so he could swallow on command. That was difficult for him.

That test revealed the esophagus is very nearly completely closed. He cannot swallow. Everything he takes in, even liquids, do not get through. He has had the liquids pooling and draining out during the night.

Meanwhile, Brenda is in hysterics. She is frantic and looking for me to step into the role of reassuring her and calming her. I need wisdom to guide us into a healthy relationship that is different than what we are used to. She hints that she would like to return. I would rather have all my teeth pulled and every other toe broken.

We are going to see the surgeon at Good Samaritan at 4:30 today. It is entirely possible Isaac will be admitted at that time.

There is more.

In addition to the esophagus Isaac has an infection in his stomach. But he is unable to swallow the antibiotics, so the infection will have to wait until after the surgery.

There is more.

Apparently as a fetus Isaac's spleen protruded into his stomach and separated and it needs to be repaired. That will need to wait until the infection in his stomach is cured.

Interestingly, I am in good spirits. I know this will all work out. I am concerned about my son's health. I am concerned about the surgeries and the finances, and dealing with Brenda, and juggling work... But... I am at peace, knowing God is on control.

Feel free to share or forward this as you see fit.

God in a Jar

“Questions are more important than answers. Answers are often wrong. Questions never are.” (Statement posted in my classroom.)

I LOVE questions!

Sometimes folks get worked up over answers, especially when they contradict favored beliefs. I enjoy unusual answers. I enjoy unusual questions even more.

Why does mayonnaise act like a solid? It does have some egg which is thick and sort of acts like a glue, but in itself eggs are runny. And the other ingredients... water and oil... are even runnier, especially when mixed. So why does a glob of mayo stand tall in the spoon? It may be the iconic spread of the bland and ordinary, but it shouldn’t be a proud culinary stalagmite.

With every new space telescope more amazing vistas of the universe are displayed. Hundred of billions of stars, in billions of galaxies. The furthest ones are so far away they no longer exist (distance = time). There are so many that if it weren’t for intervening dust, the night sky would be white.

Despite the enormous amount of mass represented by all those galaxies filled with billions of stars, all the mass we can find in the universe represents just 10 percent of the total.

Cool!

The way galaxies move, individually and in strange clusters, demonstrates they are embedded within enormous masses of invisible Jello.

The two galaxies colided long ago, yet still rotate independently, held in place by dark matter.

So... invisible matter... Ten times more than what we see. Cool!

E=MC2

Matter is the flip side of energy. Just as there is much more matter in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in our philosophies, there is also much more energy.

Mayonnaise doesn’t run all over the place, and paint is thick, because of the casimir effect.

Tiny, tiny, tiny particles act weird. Particles around a micron (a millionth of a meter) in size, when suspended in a liquid matrix, cling together because space itself exerts energy. The wave forms between close neutral particles can’t be large enough to exert enough counteracting energy to keep them spread apart.

Recent experiments showed showed the casimir effect shoves this 120 micron ball toward the plate.

Did you miss that? In other words, neutral particles with no reason at all to be attracted to each other, do so because the universe, space, produces energy. That energy, on the macro scale, is causing the galaxies to fly apart. Eventually the universe will expand to the point where light itself won’t be able to traverse the distances.

On the microscopic scale, when tiny things are close enough together so virtual particles tend not to have enough room to appear momentarily between them. Since more of the particles and energy are outside the space, it ends up exerting pressure from the outside, shoving them together.

The evidence continues... the effect explains many other odd effects found in our universe, from black hole evaporation (Hawkings Radiation) to quantum diffusion (it IS REALLY random way down there!).


As human engineering approaches the nano scale (billionths of a meter) this energy produces ever more obvious and odd effects. For nano technology (machines built on the molecular scale) this creates friction problems.



Experiments investigating the Casimir Effect reveal a strange universe. It is filled with “dark” energy (energy we cannot “see”), virtual particles that pop in and out of existence, and suggestions of many dimensions beyond the four we know.

Wow! Proof there are things beyond our understanding.

Somehow, within all of this, I find something within me that resonates with all of this... something spiritual. I believe, I know, that this life I live is somehow thinner than a truer reality. Perhaps it is the dream I had where my senses were more acute than my everyday senses, perhaps it is something about my inner emotional self, my soul, that recognizes deeper realities, perhaps it is a layman’s speculation about an additional eight dimensions that there is a being who resides in a realm that is by its nature, fuller than this one.

I’m not a big mayo fan, but I looked inside a jar of it the other day. The deep indentations of the last time a knife swept through the white stuff was still clearly visible. I thought about how, at the smallest possible scales, molecules of oil were vibrating within water, held in place because their size was small enough that the force of the universe, dark energy, pressed the water molecules into a matrix.

I just love that there is still so much mystery in the universe and that questions are still far more important than answers.

The universe stretches on and on beyond the fields we know.

A Little Art

I've been writing... Some I don't feel comfortable posting, and some is in need of polishing (there is an amusing one that discusses mayonnaise, the universe, and God).

A friend asked me where she might see some of my art online... so I just threw some onto another blog I have for that purpose.

Thought some of you might want a peek...