Ty had his first piano recital which he did in costume (and which he rocked).
You got to love a six-year old with a deep bow.
We hosted our annual all Hallow's sugar cookie and soup night (which made us all a little more roll than rock, but these cookies are WORTH it).
(I see a future in politics for this one.)
(And perhaps law enforcement for this one...)
But just when all seemed well, the phone rang. It was Friday at 5 o'clock. What could possibly go wrong? The results of McKay's labs from earlier this week were in and while everything seemed okay, the cardiologists today discussed possible solutions to dealing with McKay's ever lowering sats. The consensus? His cardiologist presented two options: 1) Do another heart catheter to explore the possibility of further collateral veins diverting blood from Mac's heart and lungs. Another surgical procedure. Another sedation. Ughh. 2) Put McKay back on oxygen and see if he can't boost his sats into the high 70 percent range and hold it there with the tubes until he's ready for the Fontan (think at least 8 months). Double ughh.
The decision? The tubes are back. At least for now. We'll see how his body responds to the oxygen therapy over the weekend and make further decisions regarding a second cath sometime next week.
The biggest casualty of the night (aside from our false sense of security and complacency) was a new pair of pajamas I cut through the foot so I could thread the tubes in and out of his sleeper. I am paranoid my little toss and turn will get tangled up in the night.
Truly, I just want him to feel better. Little boy blue has given us a couple of good scares in the past few weeks. Let me just say I will never buy the kid a purple shirt--I'm not a fan of the color on him.
Please, please, please Lord watch over my baby and his doctors.