learning in pj's and vacationing at St. Mary's

Ringing in 2011

Frazer's eyes possess a life of their own.  It is rare he goes anywhere without someone commenting on his blue eyes.  They are striking and telling.  They are the bluest eye that Tony Morrison's Pecola Breeedlove believed would set her free.  Frazer's eyes are magnets.  As a young baby we walked around Philadelphia and had a woman cross the street to comment on his gorgeous eyes.  They are his calling card and his angst and his identification.  He has developed a steel response to people complimenting him on his gorgeous eyes.  He punishes the voice by averting his eyes or worse closing his eyelids.  He can no longer be cajoled into saying thank you or even looking the person in the eye.  I could speculate that he is shy, that he does not know what to say, that he is bored with hearing it, but my thoughts would only be conjecture.  He will not tell me why he is irritated by these nice words.  Yet, it is true that his eyes hold a power to enliven a room and generate love from so many.

His eyes talk to me.  They tell me what he is thinking.  It is through them I am able to communicate his thoughts and words when he cannot.  This happens less frequently but this weekend was very necessary.  Therefore, I blog to explain the power of the eyes.

Saturday, January 22 at 12:30AM the Fraz man woke us with what we understood to be stomach cramps.  Being the diligent and concerned parents we were -- well I was -- we thought gas.  I kept shouting as he rolled and writhed all over our bed, "Fraz man you've just got to fart.  Do the bicycle."  Un-nominated for mother of the year.

However, by 5am when I told William in an uber cheerful voice that he needed to take Frazer to ER because he did not need to pass gas or have asthma or croup.  My repertoire of medical assistance dwindling to the need for truly educated and hopefully able docs had arrived.  Frazer was in a lot of pain, and he has an unusually scary and high tolerance for pain.  So when he cries, it must be truly excruciating.  But man I did not want to drag myself out of bed and be told by the doctor that he needed to pass gas (yes this has happened in our family where a member who shall be protected had a $1000.00 farting experience).   William grumbled which sufficiently irritated me since I always take them to ER and docs.  I was not headed back to sleep.  Slapped on some clothes and we were at St. Mary's be 5:30am.  I knew that they would see him quickly if he was having trouble breathing.


And they did.  Saw the doctor -- the real one -- by 6am.  Pretty good.  X-rays of chest, tummy, ultrsounds.  A battery of tests to help them know what the deal was.  By 6:30am the check in receptionist, the two nurses, the x-ray tech, the doc and ultrasound had all complimented him on his eyes.  And to all he turned away from them.  I want to feel badly that he won't speak but I was concerned about what they were learning and frankly felt that he was enough pain not to bother with making him be appropriate.  By 7:30am there was a shift change and a new slew of nurses -- 3-- and another doctor came and examined him and complimented him.  No answers as to why he was in pain and no answer from Frazer thanking them.

A stand off. 

We were admitted to peds.  The only one not complimenting him was the guy who pushed his bed upstairs.  Of course, he kept calling Frazer a girl the whole time so I wondered if he had his own operating system  At this point Frazer had had some tylenol with codiene and a bit loopy. 

Life at St. Mary's was good.  An sporadic stream of kind nurses and doctors checking on his pain, adjusting his IV and checking his stats.  TV.  And yes all of them commented on his eyes.  And despite his lack of response, these kind folks continued to give him good care and treated him kindly.  And those of you who know me understand that I am not quick with the hospital compliments.


The doctors were trying to rule things out but could find nothing.  At one point there was concern that there was pancreatitis.  Sunday came and the doctor who had seen him the day before is back which was a pleasant surprise.  Nice to have that continuity.  I expressed again how I felt that there was something we were missing and yes I understood that we have ruled out the immediately threatening things  like appendicitis.  We began planning when we would be discharged.  While grateful for the wretched chair, I was not pining to for another night at the St. Mary's Shangri la.  That deep mommy voice that had been likened to Sarah Palin's grizzly bear by both my husband and our pediatrician was roaring again.  Let me clarify that horrific compliment.  Earlier in the week, I had been talking about the sense I have for helping Frazer through something -- like a lioness,  William had said ,"No, it's more like Sarah Palin and her grizzly bear bull shit.  But I mean that in a good way."  Unlike my noble blue eyed boy, I did not avert my eyes and I added a roar or two.  The next day our beloved pediatrician razed me.  I had asked about a new endrcrinologist in Richmond for Fraz.  The one we liked at UVA had retired.  I had told our ped doc that, "I don't want to be a pansy in front of a crummy doctor."  He laughed and said, "Mrs. Hudgins you are like a liberal leftist Sarah Palin.  Certainly no doctor would accuse you of being a pansy."  So, my pediatrician knows me.  So does my husband.  But, I am no Sarah Palin, thank you very much!

Back to Frazer's discharge, I expressed concern about what to do for Fraz should he be in pain again.  The previous night they had to give him the big gun of morphine.  I assured the doctor that I did not stock opiates and wanted to know what to do if Frazer had a tough time.  He said that we could stay and he could be observed.  I was game to go home but needed a plan.  He suggested that he listen to Frazer again.  Did I mention he was a fellow in pediatric cardiology?  Good thing for us.  He heard the friction rub around his heart. 

Flowers from St. Thomas Episcopal Church

In a nutshell, Frazer was diagnosed with pericarditis.  He called in a pediatric cardiologist form MCV.   Big old echocaridogram machine checks out the boy.  Doctor, "Wow, you have beuatiful blue eyes."  This time Fraz just looked at the machine.  And this great machine confirmed the percarditis, found a hole in his heart, found a murmur and an enlarged heart chamber.  It was like the blue light special of testing.  We found the problem and three more.  Additionally when Frazer had ultra sound in ER they found a cyst on his kidney.  Double coupons at St. Mary's -- woowho!

Cards from brothers and friends hanging in the hospital room.

We stayed another night, took more drugs and by Monday morning were ready to go.  We had some friends visit, brothers and friends make cards, and priests pray with us.  It was time to hunker down at home.  I am not sure Frazer wanted to leave in that it was unlimited tv the whole time and people being kind.  But I think he was ready for some brotherly abuse verses the blue eye admiration.

So now we will meet with the pediatric cardiologist next week to check on the the pericarditis and to determine what to do about all the ancillary findings.  Don't know if I mentioned we still got one swim meet in courtesy of the Collegiate bus and one missed.  Houlder made his school dance.  Porter had play dates.  People fed my family.  My husband did lots of laundry.  Frazer shone brighter and woozier than in quite a few years.

Big guy getting a ride to the car to go home from Dad.

 Today the blues seemed brighter and the steps more frequent and faster.  His pain is basically gone and we spent most the day in our bed (mine and Will's but don't tell Fraz) doing math and reading.  A definite perk to homeschool.