Parker update Feb 27

Today was a good day. We were somewhat concerned that yesterday was the calm in the "eye of the storm" but it seems that, at least for the risk for Parker's life-- the light of heaven is dissipating the clouds.

At the start of the day we noticed that Parker's eyes were opening a bit. We also noted that is left foot was flexing somewhat and that he was kicking from under the covers. As involuntary movement is not a good sign I was initially very concerned that the convulsions were back but the nurse indicated that these were Parker's own movements and there had been no convulsions overnight.

He also did well in his respiratory therapy and he recovered quickly after his treatment. For those unfamiliar with what this entails it basically is a therapist trying to forcefully massage mucous out of your lungs and make you cough up junk which they then suck out. Even on healthy kids this is a somewhat traumatic experience.

After his respiratory therapy they got a slot to take him to the CT scan and they rushed us off to get that done. This time they gave us the lead shields and let us stay in the room during the scan. He remained fairly stable during the scan and after although his heart rate did drop a bit. After he got back to the ICU his heart rate and body temperature dropped a bit but the doctor's and nurses seemed to be less concerned and they were willing to let him recuperate himself (which he did after a matter of an hour or so).

They hooked him back up to the EEG but they said it was just to confirm the lack of convulsions as there had been none in the past 24 hours.

They also told us that we no longer have to wear masks in the room with him-- something about being able to see the doctors and nurses faces and reactions and they ours has made a big change in the feeling in the unit. Renee couldn't stop kissing him. Its just not that easy or satisfying to kiss your baby through a paper shield.

They also seem to be gradually reducing his oxygen levels to reduce his dependency.

This afternoon Abigail, Hannah and Axelle were able to come in and see Parker. They were excited to see their brother and put on the blue gown, hair nets and masks and now they all want to be doctors or nurses when they grow up. They did well and were not too afraid of the machines. Parker also seemed to respond well to them and at one point opened almost completely his eyes -- which is quite a feat given he is on two different types of sedatives.

In the evening briefing, in addition to our doctor and nurse, there were two neuro-surgeons who explained to us his treatment plan. They did not find an Empyema (Quick editorial note-- in yesterdays update we mentioned hematoma--as opposed to empyema-- apologies for the misunderstanding but we are just getting used to the french neurological terminology). They did say there was continued fluid on the brain which was cloudy. They then indicated that they envisaged putting in a drain for the cranium which would allow the fluid to drain into the stomach. They also mentioned that the drain would not be permanent and that we could come back and remove it in a couple of months. In that short phrase our hearts lept several times as they were saying that there was a horizon past tomorrow and that he would not be in the hospital all of those months. Dr Oualha confirmed that today we saw improvement-- this was huge for him to say. He said we are still in a critical stage and would like the improvement to be confirmed but there were several positive signs today.

The plan is to do the operation on Monday or Tuesday of next week and confirm the functioning with an MRI around the same time. This will give us a chance to see what kind of neurological damage has been done but it gives us a few more days to gear up for that next battle.

There is a room at the hospital here that lies in stark contrast to the rest of the hospital. It has leather chairs and a matching leather couch (that folds out to a bed), some dark oak furniture, classic looking lamps and a couple of posters of Matisse paintings. It is supposed to create a feeling of serenity and it is about 50 feet down the hall from where the ICU is. This is where the doctors come to tell you what is going on and we have come to call this "the bad news room". This room has also been our home for the last 5 nights. Each night they have told us that we can use this unless there is another child who arrives who is sicker than ours. For five days we have woken up in this room with a knot in our stomach and walked down the hall with anticipation of what we might find. This may be the last night we spend in the bad news room.

Today we feel mostly a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for so many people who have sustained us through so much-- some that don't even know us or Parker. Gratitude for a tiny foot wiggling in a bed and thinking that one day this could kick a football. Gratitude for a weak but determined grasp of my pinkie with the thought that one day my son could walk by my side holding his hand firmly in mine. Gratitude for small eyes furtively blinking open with the hope that one day those crystal blue eyes will open wide with that sparkling smile of recognition and love. And gratitude that even if these plans are never fully realized in this life-- they are still beacons of hope.

For those who have prayed for us and Parker we express our heartfelt thanks for your amazing faith which God in his mercy has responded to in clear measures. For those continuing to pray, please add a prayer of gratitude for what he has given us so far.