Henry's Brain Surgery

Tuesday, May 22, started out like any other day.  Busy and chaotic.  I had to get the boys off to school, take gift baskets to some new dental offices, make a salad for a funeral, and play the organ at the funeral.  Landon picked that morning to be especially difficult, refusing to go to school, telling me I'm the meanest mom ever, etc.  I was frazzled and it was only 9am.  My friend Barb dropped by and she knew right away I was at the end of my rope and asked me what was wrong.  I listed off a bunch of things including that Henry had a weird goose egg on his head and it was probably a brain tumor but I'm probably just being paranoid because I'm sleep deprived.  So I went about my day, determined to slow down and regain some control.  Henry took an awesomely long morning nap and when I got him out of bed I noticed his goose egg looked bigger than ever and swelling had spread down toward his ear.  I immediately called the pediatrician's office and after they heard my description of his head they told me to hang up the phone and take him directly to Seattle Children's Hospital Emergency Room.  I started to cry as I threw things in the diaper bag, made a desperate phone call to a friend who could play the organ for the funeral, picked up Parker from preschool, and sped to the ER.  I was convinced Henry was dying and the goose egg was a brain tumor.

See the bulge on the left of his head?  I took this photo during the morning rush when I didn't have time to process the fact that his head was not right.

Backstory:  Four days earlier on Friday, Henry was buckled in his high chair (booster seat strapped to a bar stool) and the whole thing tipped it over backwards.  He must have pushed his feet against the counter to get enough leverage to do something so crazy.  I'm still not sure how he did it.  I was talking to a friend at the front door and ran when I heard the crash.  Henry was crying really hard but I checked him over and couldn't seen any sign of impact or injury and figured he must not have hit his head when he landed.  Three days later I noticed a bump on his head.  It wasn't discolored, no bruising, and was soft.  Henry didn't sleep well the next couple nights but otherwise acted normal, and when I dressed him that morning he screamed when I pulled his shirt over his head.  All these little things were nagging at my subconscious which was why I rushed to the ER even though Randy thought I was overreacting and should take him to the pediatrician first.  Now, back to the story....

The white stuff is the blood inside his skull.  You can also see the swelling on the outside as well

Henry was immediately admitted to the ER and after a CT scan we learned Henry had some bleeding inside and outside his skull.  They asked me if Henry had fallen and that was when all the events from the past 5 days came together.  The neuro-resident said they couldn't see a fracture and he'd have his team of fellow residents look things over to decide if action should be taken or if we should let it resolve on it's own.  About an hour later a nurse came in and said, "I'm here to prep Henry for the operating room."  What??  The OR??  I called Randy who was working in Seattle that day and was keeping tabs on everything through texts and phone calls as I insisted he continue to work until the last possible moment because those root canals were going to be paying for a ton of medical bills.  He had just gotten his last patient numb when he pretty much had to run out of the clinic to meet us minutes before they wheeled Henry away to anesthesia.

Dad arrived just in time as Henry finished getting prepped for surgery

Here is Henry being wheeled out of the ER as if on parade, moments before everyone pretty much stopped what they were doing to wave goodbye to the cutie patootie

Turns out the non-resident, real deal, actual neurologist looked at Henry's CT scan and knew right away Henry had a skull fracture that was causing the bleeding.  I can't remember the name of the procedure but basically they cut out a piece of bone the size of an Oreo {they actually call it a cookie cut}, drained all the blood that was putting pressure on Henry's brain, put the bone back in with plates to reinforce it, and stitched my cute boy back up.  Oh, and they shaved part of his head so Henry had his first haircut in the OR but the surgeon was kind enough to save the hair for me in a ziploc bag.  What a guy!  Randy and I went to the cafeteria and answered phone calls and countless texts from concerned family and friends and before I even had time to order my dinner, the pager they gave us beeped and the surgery was over.  It was fast!  We met the surgeon in the hall and he gave us the rundown and told us Henry would be in the ICU overnight and if he did well, could go home the following day.  I was thrilled!  Originally we'd been told we'd be at the hospital 3-4 days.
Henry is doing great and his recovery has been miraculous.  The night in the ICU was horrible and we hardly slept.  They had to wake Henry every hour to do his vitals and shine a light in each eye to make sure his eyes were responding.  Can you imagine being woken up like that?  Torture for sure.  But all the nurses and staff loved Henry.  Everyone was instantly smitten and it was so funny to watch.

After surviving the worst night of our lives

 He's still so cute if you look past the Frankenstein scar!

I resorted to dumping a bunch of toys in his crib, then raising the bars as high as they would go so he couldn't fall out.  It kept him entertained for about an hour.  Our hospital stay reminded me of flying to Japan with my littles.  Keeping them entertained is torture!

Leaving the hospital and clearly I'm thrilled.  Henry was too, you just can't tell.

He slept through his homecoming so the boys had to wait to see him in the morning

Henry's scar will fade over time, which is hard to imagine, and his hair will grow over it so it won't be visible when he's older.  He doesn't have any brain damage and his recovery will be complete.  In the meantime I get to live with the worst mom guilt ever and every time I see my Frankenstein-looking baby I'm reminded of my failure to keep my kid safe.  I really want to devise some sort of bubble wrap helmet for him but I know Henry will just pull it off.  Despite my overwhelming guilt, it is easy to see God's hand in Henry's life.  He is a special boy and has touched so many hearts already.  As we were leaving his hospital room, we ran into the team of neurologist residents who helped perform the surgery and they were incredulous that we were leaving after one day.  It truly was miraculous!  Thanks to all for the many prayers and support offered from far and wide for our little boy!