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I knew I should be looking forward to our upcoming family
trip to a hot air balloon rally in Albany, Oregon. My husband
is a balloon pilot, and we spend many long, fun weekends on
the road traveling to competitions and rallies. Our children
could hardly wait to get to the rally, see the ocean, visit
Keiko the whale, and spend time with the friends they'd met
at other rallies. But, I wasn't excited. In fact, I was almost
dreading the trip, out of fear that the tragedy we had experienced
last year would repeat itself. No, a balloon had not crashed,
nor had one collided with a power line. In fact, the horror
that entered our lives that day a year ago had nothing to
do with balloons at all, but instead with something so seemingly
safe as a glass of juice.
Last year as we left for a balloon rally on a beautiful Thursday
afternoon, our three-year-old Chase, our youngest of four
children was his happy, healthy, normal self. When we arrived
in Albany, we had a nice dinner, walked around a park, and
did a little sight seeing. That night in the motel, we all
slept well. We awakened at 5:00 Friday morning to get ready
for the rally. On the way out the door Chase threw up. At
the time we thought it was just from the previous days long
car ride, eating dinner late, or at worst the flu. On Saturday,
he was not only throwing up, but also had diarrhea. By Sunday,
we realized that we had a very sick little boy. His diarrhea
had become bloody mucus. He could not hold down food or liquids.
We needed to make a decision on whether to take him to a hospital
in Oregon, or get home quickly. We hurried back to Bellingham,
still thinking that he had a bad flu and would bounce back
soon. I called the doctor as soon as we arrived home, and
he was very concerned. He informed me that there had been
three cases of E. coli in the county, and that we should take
him to the emergency room immediately. The bloody diarrhea
and vomiting had continued and now Chase was becoming lethargic.
My husband took Chase to the emergency room at St. Joseph’s
Hospital.
That night, my dear friend Linda took our other three children
so I could join Chase and my husband at the hospital. When
I arrived at the emergency room the doctors told us that Chase
could have just a simple bacteria, treatable with antibiotics.
If that were the case, he'd be able to go home soon. "But
unfortunately," they continued, "your son's symptoms
are also very similar to the E.coli 0157H7, and that can make
children very sick. We'll just have to wait for the results
to know for certain."
At those words, I felt an icy sliver of fear in my heart as
I recalled how three years ago here in Washington State, children
had become terribly sick with E. coli after eating contaminated
meat at a local fast-food restaurant. Some of those children
had even died. I turned to my Catholic faith, closed my eyes
and I pleaded, "Oh, Lord, please don't let Chase have
E. coli. My gracious God, I could not handle it! This is my
youngest child, he is only three years old!" I kept begging
God, "Please, just let him get well and come home!
Chase was admitted to a room. Within 36 hours tests showed
that he did have the dreaded E. coli bacteria. The doctor
gave us information on Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome (HUS), a
multi system disease which is often a side effect of E. coli,
and which can cause severe kidney disease in children. The
doctor felt confident that Chase would not develop this, but
there was always a chance, he said. Again I begged, "Dear
Lord, please spare Chase from this terrible disease!"
I knew I could not go through this.
But the next day, the doctor sat down with my husband and
me and quietly told us that Chase had developed HUS. HUS is
an illness that starts with a bout of gastroenteritis and
bloody diarrhea, and ends up as a life threatening disease
that can destroy the body’s organs. After hearing such
disheartening news, I said to God, "Okay, God, as long
as they can take care of everything here and he gets better
fast, I can handle this. But I cannot handle him being transported
to Children's Hospital, away from all our friends, home, and
other children here."
Within an hour of that prayer, however, Chase was in an ambulance
headed to Children's Hospital. During the one hour drive,
I sat with my hands folded, and again I prayed: "O Lord,
I cannot face the days ahead if Chase stops urinating."
I knew if this happened it would mean his kidneys were shutting
down.
That evening, the nurse repeatedly tried and failed to insert
a bladder catheter. She said it was the first time in 22 years
she had failed on a boy. The physician, Dr. Tarr, was called
in. Dr. Tarr told the nurse not to worry about the catheter
since there was no urine in the bladder anyway. Chases's kidneys
had shut down.
He talked to us about kidney dialysis, but was still hopeful
that Chase would not need it, and that the kidneys would start
doing their job again soon. So, as I had done repeatedly in
these past few days, I prayed. "Dear Lord, please let
Chase's kidneys function on their own, because I won't be
able to bear it if Chase has to go on dialysis."
The next day a kidney specialist was called in. She felt Chase
needed surgery to put in hemo-dialysis lines, because he was
in acute renal failure.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and begged. "Oh
Lord, I cannot put my littlest one through surgery, as I am
so afraid he might die." I was so weary, and had so little
strength left, and I knew I could just not handle this.
But the surgery was scheduled, Chase had the hemo-line put
in, and he pulled through just fine. He was on dialysis every
day for the first week. The doctor said he was not out of
the woods yet, and that the longer he went without urinating,
the higher the risk of permanent kidney damage. We were also
informed that if Chase was to have a seizure, we could be
facing much more serious problems.
Again I pleaded, although I felt I was batting zero by now
in the answer department. "Gracious God, please don't
let little Chase have a seizure -- it could cause so much
destruction in his little body! Oh, my Father, I could not
cope if Chase had a seizure!"
Chases's kidney dialysis that day did not go well. The nurses
said we would have to try again in the evening. They thought
that maybe the dialysis line was no longer working due to
a blood clot, and they filled the line with heparin, an anti-clotting
drug. As I took Chase back to his room, he started to shake
and shake. I wrapped him in a blanket to keep him warm. The
whole time I was wondering if this was the seizure the doctors
had warned us about. By the time the nurses got to the room,
it was over. We never did know for sure if he had had a seizure.
I felt overwhelmed. Our troubles seemed to be getting worse
every day. Even praying with our priest, Fr. Jim Lee, did
not fully bring the peace it usually did. Chase had not urinated
in seven days and was eleven pounds over his normal weight.
The doctors told us this was a crucial date, as long-term
effects are often more common with longer length kidney shutdown.
After fourteen days without urinating, about 15% of children
need kidney transplants.
I left the hospital that night to travel the few miles to
my parents' house to get some sleep. My husband and I were
alternating staying all night with Chase. When I got to the
truck in the hospital parking lot, I fell to my knees on the
asphalt. I sobbed, not caring who saw the tears rolling down
my face, as I had now finally accepted how very sick my son
was. Chase was still suffering so much with the severe cramping,
and diarrhea that he'd had since the onset. He had not had
much sleep and was very lethargic. His kidneys had been shut
down for a dangerous seventeen days, and he was puffed up
like a balloon ready to pop. His hemo-line for dialysis was
failing and we did not know if heparin would help at this
point. On top of that, he had developed a heart murmur due
to the ravages of HUS. He had gone through numerous blood
transfusions, and neither the doctors nor we knew if any of
them were helping. His platelet count was still so very low.
In spite of my many prayers, nothing at all was getting any
better!
In my despair, I again turned to God in the parking lot of
the hospital, which had become my home away from home. Through
my tears, I looked up to the stars and I asked for guidance
and direction. I was lost, and regretted my prayers over the
last month. How many times had I said: "I cannot handle
what is happening to Chase!"? But that night I finally
surrendered my fears to Jesus. I looked for the hand of God
in all this and began to realize that I had handled everything
I had said I could not. And once more, I prayed. But this
time my prayer was different. "Lord, I can handle all
things, as long as you are with me through this journey. You
love Chase even more than I ever could. You love him, and
you love me, perfectly. I will embrace this night, and I will
let You take control. I will trust in Your love, and believe
that Your grace will provide."
Chase was still very ill and the situation grave. However,
I felt that God had a plan for Chase, and I found faith to
carry on through the days ahead. Knowing I had found The Way
in God, my strength was renewed. I had trusted my heart to
God; He knew the burden I carried, and the trials I had to
face, but no longer would I carry those burdens or face those
trials alone. We would do it together.
The next day when I returned to the hospital I changed Chase's
diaper. Every other day, I had found the diaper dry. But this
time, what a great joy to find half an ounce of urine! As
the day went on, Chase had more and more urine output. His
swollen little body began to return to normal, as the toxins
and the urine miraculously found their way out. Eventually,
the doctors pulled out the hemo-dialysis line and we were
able to return home.
We still don't know how much damage Chase will have to his
kidneys, but whatever it is, I know I can handle it with my
precious, gracious God. I have learned to give all my fear,
control, problems, and turmoil to the Lord. I know he will
hold my hand and walk the path with me. In this and all situations,
I know God is always there.
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more victim's stories)
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