Random Fodder

Sebastian continues to go to physical therapy twice a week to build strength in his legs and ankles and also to improve his balance, all of which are good but below where they were before he went to the hospital for 10 days due to transverse myelitis.

On January 10, Sebastian returned to hockey practice, entered the rink, turned around, and gave me the thumbs-up. Mid-way through practice, he was moved from the lower skill level (IP1) to the higher skill level (IP2), so it was clear that he would be able to continue playing hockey without much problem.

The following day, Sebastian practiced with the IP2 kids and they played some scrimmages. In this video, you can see Sebastian making a couple goals (including one with a feigned shot). After the goals is some footage of some good shots and several other defensive plays Sebastian was able to make.

So as you can imagine, we're even more proud of him with his recovery since he has gotten back out there for hockey and is giving it all he can!

On Friday, December 12, Sebastian seemed perfectly fine. He complained about both his feet falling asleep in the morning when he woke up, which seemed like no big deal at the time. The following morning at hockey practice, Sebastian complained about his shins hurting and was falling down on the ice a lot (which also seemed like no big deal at the time — he did the same thing when his glasses were hurting his head during a previous hockey practice). Later that same day at the mall, Sebastian was stumbling and scuffing his feet on the floor, but it seemed like no big deal at the time because he was wearing brand new (bulky) winter boots. On Sunday morning, however, Sebastian was walking very awkwardly in our apartment in sock feet, and kept falling down. He was bending forward at his hips and his legs were turning out to the side when he took steps. The big alarm came when my wife pinched his back really hard to test his nerves and he didn't feel a thing. At that point, we headed to the emergency room. After about 7 hours and an MRI later, Sebastian was diagnosed with transverse myelitis.

Transverse myelitis is a condition affecting the spine which in turn affects other parts of the body. "Myelitis" refers to a swelling in the spine, and "transverse" tells you that the swelling goes across the width of the spine, affecting a cross section of both the left and right sides. Due to the portions of the spine affected in Sebastian's case, this caused the tingling in the feet, lack of balance, and numbness in the back. Unfortunately, when the inflammation of the spinal cord is reduced, the affected areas do not automatically return to their original functionality. The scariest part of transverse myelitis is that the recovery rate is split about evenly into thirds:

About one-third of people affected with transverse myelitis experience good or full recovery from their symptoms . . . Another one-third show only fair recovery and are left with significant deficits such as spastic gait, sensory dysfunction, and prominent urinary urgency or incontinence. The remaining one-third show no recovery at all

Doctors told us that this would require a hospital stay over a period of weeks. Our most favorable estimate had us leaving right after Christmas.

Sebastian was placed in the PICU and started daily steroid treatments that would assist in reducing the inflammation in his spinal cord. The following day, he was moved to the Step Down Unit, and the day after that (Tuesday) he was moved into a semi-private pediatric room. By the time he reached his semi-private room, Sebastian had two MRIs, a spinal tap, two IV attempts, an EEG, and the standard casual poking and prodding by a dozen medical professionals.

On Tuesday, Sebastian had discomfort in his back, most likely caused by laying in bed for so long. When asked to move his legs, at times he could move his left leg to the side about half an inch, and sometimes not at all. His right leg showed more progress, moving about an inch off the bed. He was also completely unable to lift his head or back off of the bed.

By Thursday, the physical therapist and occupational therapist were able to get him out of bed and have him walk about 60 feet to the nurses' station and back to his bed. I think this accomplishment gave Sebastian the self-confidence and motivation to start working toward recovery, because the next morning he wanted to walk past the nurses' station. And on Friday, he was discharged from the pediatric ward and admitted to the rehabilitation center on a different floor.

Though the move to the rehab unit was a blessing for us, it was not that great a move for Sebastian. He went from a floor filled with kids, nurses who deal with kids all day, video games, and lots of kids activities. He moved to a floor filled with almost entirely elderly people and nurses who were used to dealing with mostly old people. The upside is that we moved to a brightly lit hallway, a fully private room, and a floor filled with people who weren't sick, but were getting stronger. By the time Sebastian reached the rehab unit, he was moving around (too quickly) with the assistance of his walker. He was really enjoying the freedom of being mobile.

Today, December 23, Sebastian came home after 10 days in the hospital! Here is footage of him leaving the hospital and of him arriving home:

As you can see, he is able to walk independently without any real help. You will see the tan gait belt around his waist, which basically just gives him three handles that we can grab if he slips or falls. They are very nice for when he is walking over slippery surfaces.

Though Sebastian has recovered delightfully well, he does still have plenty of work ahead of himself. His "core" muscles are very weak, which causes him to have trouble balancing. Thus, he will continue to do exercises each day and see a physical therapist on a regular basis to strengthen these important muscles. After just a couple days of PT, we can see a marked improvement: He couldn't stand back up from a squatting position on Saturday, but today he can do a few squat/stands in a row.

We have to thank all the people who have prayed for Sebastian over the past 10 days. The amount of prayer he has received is overwhelming; I know he ended up on at least three church's prayer lists and we have heard from dozens of friends and acquaintances who have prayed. Please keep praying for Sebastian's continued recovery and strength! Sebastian is looking forward to getting back to school after the winter break and is hoping to get back out on the ice for hockey as soon as possible!

I visited my grandmother in the hospital today. Before I left, I considered eating lunch, but I instead decided to get to the hospital earlier rather than later. I had eaten a late breakfast, so I just left without eating.

I'm not sure what it is, but that sterile/purified air that they have in hospital rooms always seems to cause me trouble. It always bothers me. Perhaps I just need more germs in my environment than everyone else. Or maybe it's the germs keeping me strong and healthy!

After I had been in the room for about twenty minutes, I started getting light-headed. After a few more minutes, it started to worsen, and I started getting clammy, too. My aunt got me some ice water and put some ice in paper towel for my forehead. She then went to find a nurse.

The nurse comes in and says, "You look really pale and sweaty. We better get you to the emergency room." (My uncle later commented, "You're always pale, aren't you?")

I raised an eyebrow, and the nurse said, "You'll have to get in the wheelchair and I'll wheel you down there."

Since I was feeling light-headed, I decided to get in the chair so I could at least make it down to the cafeteria. My uncle followed so someone would know where I was. Due to construction, we got in the elevator, went down, and travelled through hallways that were clearly not intended for public use. I'm talking large pipes with shutoff valves and all that jazz.

As we traveled through the hallways, people stopped and looked at me, the man in street clothes being pushed by a nurse. All I really wanted to do was yell out to them, "I'm just a visitor! I don't belong here!!!" I think an outstretched, shaking hand would have perfected the effect.

By this time, I had gotten plenty of air, and I already felt much better. I certainly did not want to pay the $50 ER co-payment to have them check my vitals and possibly give me some juice. I know how the ER works — you don't get much help unless you need a limb sewn back on . . . and even then, you've got a 50/50 chance that it's sewn back on in the right direction.

I told the nurse that I really only needed some juice and something to eat, so the cafeteria seemed like an equally good option. She countered by telling me that it's good to be sure "just in case."

I thought, "Just in case what?!? Just in case you have some strange disease that causes you to black out every 9-12 months? Or just in case we want to be sure and charge you for a CAT scan? Or just in case our ER budget comes up short $300 this quarter?"

After a couple minutes, we arrived at the ER admissions desk. The nurse told them that I had passed out and almost hit my head on the floor to get me quicker service. They took my last and first names and my date of birth.

The ER staff scrawled out a wristband for me and the nurse started to put it on my wrist. I asked, "This won't be billable, will it?"

She asked me, "Why, you don't have insurance?" Since she provided me with a good, solid excuse, I put a concerned look on my face and shook my head. She explained, "It's no problem. This hospital will work with you on payment plans. They do it all the time." Not only was this not the answer I was looking for, it was also a definite confirmation that this would be billable.

Here's the rest of the conversation. Feel free to grab two friends and act it out at home:

ACT TWO, SCENE TWO

Setting: A hallway in a hospital just in front of an ER admissions desk. Sick people with horrible diseases, severed limbs, mild rashes, and axes in foreheads can be seen stage left in the ER waiting room. Me sits in a wheelchair in plain street clothes. Nurse stands behind the wheelchair while Uncle leans against a wall.

Me: I'm quite certain that all I need is some juice and food in the cafeteria, and I should be perfectly fine.
Nurse: I don't know. It's best to make sure you're fine.
Me: Naah, I think all I really need is some juice.
Nurse: I'd feel horrible if you passed out and hit your head on the floor because you left without getting looked at.
Me [to audience]: I'd feel worse if I paid $50 for a cup of juice and a blood pressure reading, both of which I could get at the nearest drug store for a total of $1.25.
Me [to Nurse]: No, I'm quite sure it's the fact that I didn't eat lunch today.
Nurse [to Uncle, well within Me's earshot]: Do you think you could talk to him and convince him?
Uncle shrugs, Nurse looks back at Me]
Me [preemptively]: Thanks anyway, but I'm certain.

At this point, I stood up, and the nurse tells me that if I'm going to the cafeteria, I might as well get back in the chair and have my uncle push me there, since the chair needed to be returned to my grandmother's floor anyway.

The story ends with me purchasing an orange juice and sub at the cafeteria and feeling much better from then on.

Fin. [curtain closes]

Check out the eyebrow-raising brochure I found during my visit to the urologist.

You know you're a geek when . . .

. . . the first time you wear an athletic support is when you're 30 years old . . .

. . . and even then, it's because the doctor required it for your post-vasectomy care.

This post was originally posted at The Smarmy Carny, Novac's general blog.

I groggily pulled myself out of bed this morning. As I have been sick this week, I walked over to the glass of emergency orange juice I had poured myself before going to bed.

I took three large gulps of orange juice, and continued to the kitchen. I set the glass on the counter and headed for the bathroom. When I came back and approached the glass, it looked like there were cookie crumbs in my glass. Upon further inspection, there were three dead fruit flies floating on the top of the orange juice.

I quickly spit into the sink, with no obvious result. I opted not to induce vomiting for a few tiny pests.

The real unanswerable question is: How many fruit flies were there before I got up? I can only hope the answer is three.

This post was originally posted at The Smarmy Carny, Novac's general blog.

I think it's a bad sign when you (meaning me) are eating Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and a big chunk flies out of the container, down your pants, and onto the floor, and you take the time to scoop out another bite so you can be eating ice cream while you pick up the ruined scoop!

I hope this doesn't make you hate me . . . but if it does, I've got some Ben & Jerry's to console me.

This post was originally posted at The Smarmy Carny, Novac's general blog.