What the Beatles didn't teach us about hallucinogenic drugs

Everything is funnier in hindsight. Last night, it was harder to find the funny bone, as Elliott, poor thing, woke several times each hour, in a startle and with a cry for 'Daddy!!'. While it is nice to be wanted, after the 20th time, the niceness wore off. The most dramatic wakings involved Elliott sitting bolt upright in bed, another he stood straight up, unaided, on his bed (at this point he had not stood at all since the surgery), and the finale, at about 6am, was Elliott pulling out his NG tube from down his gullet, as if to say, 'that's enough you lot, I'm going to sleep', and he did, thank the Lord!

I suppose all that seems kind of funny now. What was not so funny at the time was Elliott's state with a new pain med, Dilaudid (hydromorphone) we had switched to following some unpleasant side effects he was having with the morphine (itching, lots of startles, and he stated at one point that the hospital building outside was moving). Well, Dilaudid's side effects in our little guy's body made Morphine look like a sip of Tylenol by comparison, with the worst impact being what seemed to be hallucinogenic experiences: he reached for objects that weren't there, looked at his hands and arms as if something was on them, and was generally very freaked out. I was too, and this morning we gave Dilaudid the boot, and we have opted for the devil we know returning to morphine because it looks like he might be able to take medicine and fluids by mouth tomorrow. Thank the Lord again!

The good news out of what really felt like a worrying few hours last night is that today Elliott passed some gas (which is not really me being over-zealous with the details, it is how we get to know that his intestine and bowel might be waking up enough to receive fluids and eventually food and so get Elliott out of the ICU) and walked. That was great, and really helped with pain. He also got a visit from his Momute (great for both of them) in his newly improved post-Dilaudid and post-walking state.

Hospital, for us at least, is all about these daily rises and falls. Thankfully, the rises have far outnumbered the falls and we are so blessed by that. We are also blessed by your prayers and love. Elliott doesn't really comprehend the expanse of places where people are loving and praying for him: from California to Virginia, Texas to Kent, Scotland to India, and rather neatly, St. Andrew's, Ann Arbor to St. Andrew's, Pacific Beach. We do know that, however, and I have to say that in those moments last night when it was truly scary to see my son just that little bit too much beside himself, knowing that we are held by your prayers and by the God to whom we look for hope gives us tremendous strength, for these nights and days and for all the days to come.