SAM...MORE THAN A CONQUEROR: H'so Samuelson

Sam. Conqueror. Overcomer.

"IN ALL THINGS WE ARE MORE THAN CONQUERORS THROUGH HIM WHO LOVES US : Samuel was born on 15th May 2009, two months early and in respiratory distress. After an initial Apgar score of 1, he was taken to the NICU and placed on a ventilator, together with an undeterminable amount of tubes, IV’s and monitors which made it almost impossible to see the little Smurfie character lying within…slightly blue and only three apples high. Sam was diagnosed within 24 hours with Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome, a scarce medical advantage as, due to the rare occurrence of the Syndrome and the limited medical literature on it, many individuals are only diagnosed well into adulthood and some never at all. The page-long list of medical/health issues related to the syndrome, while vital in providing a prognosis and compiling a care plan, took a backseat, however, as Sam’s struggle to breathe and swallow became the primary focus of our concerns and prayers, deepened only by the heartache of not being allowed to hold and comfort him for the first ten days of his already traumatic life. After seven weeks Sam was successfully weaned from the oxygen but was still dependent on a nasal gastric tube for feeding, with which he was eventually discharged. Once home, what should have been a precious time to recover from the stress of the NICU and enjoy a relaxed and cherished time together, instead became a seemingly-endless timeline of specialist appointments, therapies, illnesses and surgeries as that page-long list of medical complexities came into play, affecting every part of Sam…physically, neurologically, medically and emotionally. Yet, despite these challenges and an “ineducable” future being predicted when his prognosis was delivered, Sam showed a delightful potential and eagerness for learning. Unfortunately though, this learning potential seemed limited to his cognitive abilities as, physically, Sam’s development lagged significantly behind that of his RTS peers. A week before his 5th birthday a brain MRI confirmed that, in addition to the RTS, Sam also has Periventricular Leukomalacia and Static Leukoencephalopathy (included under the umbrella diagnosis of Cerebral Palsy), which would more than likely have occurred as a result of the oxygen deprivation experienced leading up to and/or during his birth. Thirteen years later and with a number of surgeries and medical procedures which appear to be in fierce competition for their own “page-long list” (which surgeries and their subsequent recoveries have left Sam to face his day-to-day life with a residue of unshakeable anxieties and phobias), the boy you meet face-to-face…with his cheeky sense of humour, unfathomable joy and fierce warrior spirit…make it almost impossible to believe that that disheartening brain MRI and poor medical prognosis are of the same kid. As we begin to navigate this journey with a newly aged differently-abled teenager, leaving behind the little smurf whose fears and discomforts could so easily be remedied with a cuddle on mom’s lap, the anxiety of more surgeries and medical challenges now compounded by the universal fear of every differently-abled child’s parent/s (who will take care of their child once their own time here is gone) threatens to become overwhelming. But then the excitement of a horseriding lesson, the sheer delight of spotting a balloon (especially a hot air balloon) or a super silly giggle caused by simply hearing someone sneeze provides a beautiful reminder of the profound joy and courage these children radiate, despite their overwhelming challenges, and it provides the perfect encouragement and inspiration for facing your own. #samtheconqueror

SAMUEL - COMPLETE IN GOD
Our world has crashed, been blown apart.
This can't be happening....why us? Why now?
Your fragile life shaken before it could barely start,
How do we get through this...please, Lord, tell us how?

Drowning in our sorrow, waiting for answers that just don't come.
Our baby "special needs"? It simply can't be true!
The heartache overwhelms us, we're left feeling cold and numb.
The diagnosis tells us little - these children are so few.

But then we finallyget to touch you, to see your precious face
And all the heartache and questions fade, replaced with love and pride.
It's obvious from the very start you're showered in God's grace,
And with His love and guidance, we'll take this challenge in stride.

When once we couldn't pronounce it, Rubinstein-Taybi's become our norm.
When once the future seemed dark, we now welcome the journey as having an RTS angel brings lessons in unexpected form.

Our world has crashed, been blown apart!
This IS happening....to us.....right now!
We've been blessed with a gift, so precious from the very start. How do we get through this? Here's how.....
By believing in a God, so merciful and great,
By trusting that He's right beside us as we journey through the narrow gate.
By believing His love for us is not determined by a human frame,
By trusting that we draw Him near by merely calling His name. This precious baby we asked God for,
Prayed he'd be perfect and complete.
And, as Samuel means "God hears", He's laid His answer at our feet.

(Nicky de Beer : 27/05/2010)

Sunday, March 16, 2014

H'so Samuelson

Only eight more sleeps till I lose my not-so-airy Aircast *happydance Honestly, I really thought the 'air' in Aircast implied that the boot was super lightweight. It isn't. I was beyond despair the first couple of days thinking the injury was so much more devastating than I'd thought if instead the boot seemed downright chunky and heavy, anything but airy. Was I ever amused to finally discover the little dial and round knob-type thing actually pump air into the cast. Aaaaahhhh...air! I am at least thankful that the boot enables me to move around without crutches and I've even been able to carry Sam a little. Any time off those knees is a huge relief but he seems more and more reluctant to walk with us. So we've created a really complex (not really) little game which involves whoever is willing to walk in front of Sam chanting "Left. Left. Right. Lift" and on cue the lil smurfy dude will lift his right leg, but only his right leg. If the chant stops on the wrong leg he takes great pains to switch over.

Somewhere out there there's a village with a karate kid-deprived parking pillion with your name on it my boy!

To say there's an element of cabin fever in Smurfville would be an understatement of note so we thought it would be a good idea to go watch the last hour of Meg's evening marathon at school last Friday night. We drove the exact same route we've driven at least once every school day over the last seven years so a vomit episode triggered by encountering unfamiliar surroundings would not be called for, right? Wrong! No.1 it was dark and No.2 we turned through a different gate. Seconds later the little dude was hurling his dinner out. Just a coincidence, you might think...a case of bad timing perhaps? On Saturday morning we popped down to the local traffic department to collect my renewed driver's licence (you know, in case I get pulled over while going nowhere). Pull into the parking lot, I open my door and there the flood erupts. Nevermind the Terminator... The Vominator is back, in full force. Obviously with Sam and I effectively being homebound and him not needing to deal with the usual stress he faces with any sort of social encounters, we're going to find ourselves back at square one when I can eventually drive again. Something to look forward to.

On Monday Sam had an appointment with a new Prof Paed. We were a little anxious that upon entering the rooms Sam would instantly start throwing up. Luckily there were too many distractions. New Prof Paed suggested a new reflux med for Sam which is wonderful. I've wondered for some time whether Sam's sleep issues aren't related to his reflux but honestly didn't know there's an alternative to Losec. Because there's no chance that Sam would simply swallow half a Losec mup, I dissolve it in a drop of water and add it to his food (it doesn't go through the teat of a bottle) but if the Losec is not ingested with 10-15 minutes it basically becomes ineffective and Sam seldom finishes a meal in less than 30 mins nevermind 15. So the new med, Nexium, which is still Omeprazole, is simply mixed with a little water to form a completely flavourless syrup and given just once a day. Works like a dream so I think we've got the reflux sorted. Prof Paed shared the opinion of a good friend(who also happens to be a fab paediatrician) that Sam's urinary retention issues are almost certainly related to bouts of constipation Sam's had trouble with. A quick look in Sam's ears confirmed that the right grommet has already fallen out which is a bit of a bummer. The right ear is the problem ear and tends to react the moment the grommet falls out which is why the ENT apparently used a different tube in the hope it would stay in place for at least 18 months. It's been only 9 months since the current set was inserted :(

Sam weighed pretty much what he has for the last six months, round 15.6kg's and stands just over 95cm's tall. That's just 58cm's shorter than his mom. Prof Paed asked if he could discuss Sam's sleeping issues with a colleague which had me impressed with both his caution and humility at not suggesting an immediate remedy. On Wednesday he called to say they'd come up with a possible option called Stilnox but that he would want to admit Sam overnight should we decide to give it a try as he is wary of Sam's reaction. That had me a little anxious but again grateful for his caution. At the end of the conversation we decided to wait it out a little longer before trying the Stilnox.

Tracey from Iris House was spending the morning with Sam so I was able to have an attentive conversation with Prof. Shortly after the call I sat with Sam and Tracey and noticed Sam slipping into a sort of 'blank episode' which he's done before but not for quite some time. I've known for a while that many of Sam's RTS siblings suffer with absent seizures but have never been quite certain whether Sam's blank episodes were the same. Tracey confirmed instantly with one look at her that it was in fact an absent seizure and then confirmed it verbally too. At least now I know what to watch out for but there have thankfully been no more.

Meg has been off on a school camp for five days, arriving home on Friday accompanied by a snotty nose, sore throat and coughing. Not great on its own but made more worrying by the fact that we leave for her hockey tour on Thursday. We've already joked about what kind of 6-7 hour trip we're in for if Sam's going to vomit with every unfamiliar parking lot we pull into. Yikes!