Thankful...

What a wonderful Thanksgiving! Ammon has been home with us for a week now, and based on his performance we expect this stay to continue. It has been a busy, joyful, tiring week, full of gratitude and work. Minus the IVs, we’ve set up shop pretty nicely here for Ammon, with all the familiar beeps and hums of various machines from his hospital rooms. We have a nebulizer for his Dinase treatments, constant oxygen during the day and a bipap machine at night, oxygen saturation and heart rate monitor, a continuous portable feeding tube, and the suction machine. We’ve had a lot of experience with most of these machines before in Ammon’s life so sometimes the biggest worry is just keeping the cords and tubes untangled and everything flowing smoothly. However, we’ve learned quite a bit regarding the continuous feeding pump and the suction machine, and only had a few head scratching moments on why food or medicine wasn’t moving as it should. Ammon’s machines are supported by several boxes of equipment and supplies, and of course his daily doses of medications. Summer set up a chart with nearly a dozen listings, showing what type of medicine needs to be administered, the quantity, and when, all through his tube. The chart shows medication being administered at various times throughout the day, including the dreaded 2 a.m. night shift. Though caring for Ammon is more than a full time endeavor, for more than one adult, it is so good to have him at home.

It’s important to daily look for, recognize, and then count your blessings, particularly when in the midst of life threatening trials. This is why Thanksgiving is such a great time of year. Over the past while I’ve been putting together a reminder list of things, people, and events that I am thankful for. In keeping with Summer’s loving advice to me, I’ll do my best to keep this posting to under a 3 or 4 minute read, so this is only a summary of my many ‘thankfuls’ (and hopefully you can read fast).

I’m thankful for the faith and knowledge of children. One day after church, 3-year old Brynn took my hand and said in a matter of fact voice, “Daddy, Ammon walk…” She then continued saying to a suddenly emotional and attentive Dad, “I hold his hand…but he walk, and he won’t fall.” Then, in some of her prayers since then she prays about Ammon walking. I don’t know if she heard something at church or if it was just a thought of her own, but either way Brynn knows that someday “Ammon walk, and he won’t fall.”

I’m thankful for forgiveness and understanding. One of the good things about being at the hospital is that all the doctors and nurses do the necessary, yet sometimes painful or discomforting medical procedures. They poke Ammon with the needles, they push on his sore tummy, they administer his poisonous chemo, and they suction out his nose and throat. In most instances we are standing with Ammon and holding his hand or rubbing his arm and telling him to hold on and it will pass quickly. Ammon always believes us, and the pain of the procedures always does pass eventually. At the hospital we are almost always the good guys. Now that we are home, the most painful and discomforting procedure that Ammon has to endure is the suctioning. Suctioning involves putting a small tube down Ammon’s throat or nose, sometimes as far as 10 or 12 inches, with the goal in mind to get him to cough and suction up all the junk and secretions. Usually, Summer or I will hold Ammon’s head while the other inserts the tube, and this is usually repeated 2 to 4 times per session. The first few times, Ammon would stare straight at me while crying and I could just see his eyes telling me, “Not you too Dad!” But I’ve seen over the past few days that he understands how this is helping, and how much his parents still love him. Ammon, again, has shown his wisdom and strength in successfully enduring the suctions and still loving his Mommy and Daddy just as much afterwards.

I’m thankful for laughter. It’s been so nice to hear a good joke or story over the past two months and just laugh uncontrollably. Coleson’s enthusiasm for life has been a particular source of joy and good smiles. Sometimes, Coleson has been down stairs watching a movie and we just hear random outbursts of pure laughter followed by something like, “That’s just great…Oh, that’s awesome!” You haven’t lived until you’ve had the chance to watch a funny movie with Coleson or play the Wii where he will jump up and down saying "Go, Go, Go!" Even just the chance to take a break and be with friends and neighbors for a few hours and play video games (something I’m able to do once every year or two) that I have absolutely no skill at, yet I’m able to elicit quite the smack talk. Honestly, not even the smack talk is that good, which is why it makes me laugh.

I’m thankful for family. That’s probably better said as I’m thankful that family is forever. My brother-in-law’s family has been at our home for the last week, and it has been a blessing having them here. They drove all the way down from Seattle with a very young family, with the primary goal in mind of serving Ammon. They represented another shift of the continuous round of love and charity that has surrounded Ammon and our family since his diagnosis. It has been relieving to have things be done, particularly those things that I didn’t even realize needed to be done. A fridge cleaned out, a cupboard organized, a meal prepared, outdoor Christmas lights put up, and the children sung to and tucked into bed. My parents have been wonderful in attending Coleson’s soccer games, bringing small presents for Brynn, and praying without ceasing on Ammon’s behalf. My brothers and their families have been equally generous in their outpouring of love, and their faith and prayers have been recognized on Ammon’s behalf. My other brother-in-law and his wife put on a much needed Thanksgiving feast that was as exquisite as any I can remember (the turkey was heaven, and the sweet potatoes somehow even better; seconds was still only the beginning). Laughing and sharing around the dinner table, with the best part being that Ammon was there with us sitting mostly content on Summer’s lap. It’s amazing how broad those you call family grows when going through something like this with Ammon. All of this love, faith, and charity for my young wonderful boy. It’s no wonder, that at least for me, I look forward to having such family around us forever.