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Kate Saves the Day
and other tales
Where to even begin?
Oh, that’s right. At the end.
The end of our hospitalization, and our last day in the beautiful Beacon Hill apartment we got to stay in because it’s subsidized by the Ethan Lindberg Foundation. I was packing and making messes and somehow in the mayhem we sent an accidental transmission from K’s pacemaker, through a tabletop device that’s Bluetooth enabled and sends transmissions to the electrophysiology department at Children’s.
That unannounced data made its way to the desktop of a certain EP Fellow (we’ll call him Cedric) who we happen to be connected to via mutual, very close friends. According to a second Fellow on the scene, he turned to his colleague and asked “do you think they meant to send this?”
Cedric’s confusion only grew as he looked at the data. He called me.
“Can you tell me about the last transmission?”
“Yeah, I was packing, I think a pillow fell on it, it was an accident.”
“Do you have a follow-up scheduled for tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“EP will meet you there to double check this reading.”
And they did.
The data was confirmed and we were admitted directly to the cardiac floor from the cardiac clinic. “Nothing is real until it happens,” we laughed bitterly as we cancelled our flight home.
What followed was a slow-as-molasses week inpatient, and a third heart operation within a month’s time.
Yesterday Justin and I pushed for discharge. Killian was in a cycle in which he’d refuse meds because his stomach hurt, because he hadn’t eaten, because he was in pain and the pain meds were what was making his stomach hurt. It was bullshit. What he needed was a nice gentle Tylenol to break the cycle, but he was refusing the hospital chewables because, and I quote, “they taste disgusting and make my tongue feel weird.”
Enter superhero Kate. Kate was my roommate in college, my life group partner back in the day, and an integral part of the friend group that helped me find myself. She’s also a mean choreographer, especially when the routines are set to 80’s power ballads, but that’s a story for another day.
Back on track. Kate drove around Boston and found all the flavors of Children’s Tylenol that she could, and brought them to the hospital. After finding success with bubble gum chewables, Killian flew through the rest of his discharge milestones.
When we got him “home,” he was still pretty miserable. He refused to move his arm and was favoring it…which is where Tio Jord came in. Jordan has been practicing Killian’s favorite roblox games, so they can play together in the afternoons. They FaceTime while they play, trade insults and talk about their days. It’s been such a joy to see my brother put in that effort to love my son. We all feel it.
Killian was so caught up in the fun he was having, he forgot he was being slightly theatrical. He started using both hands to game and hasn’t looked back since.
This afternoon we get to fly home, courtesy of some dear friends. I can’t wrap my head around it, and it probably won’t feel real until I’m having a full blown conversation with my adansonii plant tonight.
We’re heading back into a whole new world, and looking forward to jumping in with both feet.
Ciao for now,
M
