Better and Better. . .

Once again, Brendan has bounced back from a difficult setback.  The change in him started slowly today, but picked up speed as the day progressed.  

 The diagnosis of c. diff (clostridium difficile colitis) came just after noon, and things began improving rapidly.  The antibiotics (Vancomycin and Rocephin-Ceftriaxone) may be discontinued tonight or tomorrow and replaced by an oral antibiotic, metronidiazole. Right now he is still being given all three.  Everyone coming into the room has to don the yellow gowns and gloves and sometimes a mask.  They also have to wash their hands with soap and water to avoid spreading the spores generated by this disease.  Brendan started calling them banana gowns.  Now everyone looks like a surgeon and he is quite suspicious until they show they will not poke or prod or otherwise cause him pain or discomfort.  (The ENT team of residents pushed on the incision in his neck to check for an abscess or infection today and now he doesn't want anyone touching him!)

The trips to the bathroom have decreased significantly throughout the day. . .

 When I left to grab a bite to eat at the Ronald McDonald Family Room, Brendan was resting.  When I came back he was sitting up and had just finished most of a hamburger-(his first food since yesterday morning).  My heart soared!!  Earlier in the day I had wished to be off this roller coaster ride, but the immense joy I felt when I saw this smile I wouldn't have traded for the world!  I knew that the only way this meant so much to me was because of the valley of fear I had been through 12 hours earlier.

 Today Brendan was ready to start the "Colors of Courage" bead program here in the ICU.  For each medical procedure or event the kids go through they get a different bead.  So, for a blood transfusion, he gets a red bead, his port means he gets a glass heart bead, CT scans are a cat, etc. and every time he does radiation, he'll get a glow in the dark bead.

 They talked to him about starting this shortly after his brain surgery, but he just wasn't ready to think about it.  Now, he is really excited about all he has earned/endured/accomplished.

Sarah: He was vastly disappointed that he didn't get a gold helicopter bead for being life-flighted. He asked if we could please remedy that situation as soon as possible. The crystal bead that he'll be getting for his catheters, though, he said are simply not worth it.

I can't wait for the smile bead (end of treatment) or the yellow flower bead (remission). But it's kind of fun to celebrate all these things--lumbar punctures, biopsies, IV feeding--in a fun way. He was almost sad for a second that he had never had an echocardiogram so he could get a dolphin bead. I appreciate all they do to make treatment here as positive an experience as it can be.