SAM...MORE THAN A CONQUEROR: March 2015

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 29, 2015

The unchanging....

If I had a Rand for every person who's ever told me how great it is that I can remain lighthearted about most of our challenges, I'd have...well a handful of Rands...enough to buy a lottery ticket and put me in the runnings to become a MILLIONAIRE! (As long as "millionaire"'s somewhere in that equation, right?) Usually I laugh and say "Well, if I don't laugh, I'll cry...and if I start crying, I'm not sure I'd stop" and then we laugh some more.

Few realise how completely honest I am being.

Some days I just can't muster the energy to fake okay. Today is one of those days.

Sam has many issues relating to his RTS, Cerebral Palsy and Autism. Some are pretty straightforward...reflux, constipation, etc...some are more serious...apnoea, physical abnormalities, odd seizures, etc. I can live fairly peacefully with almost all of these and the care they require. They are all tangible issues...things I can feel or see or smell or hear. They are all fairly common issues too, maybe not always effecting one person at the same time, but isolated they are all issues that when discussed with someone else they are easily recognised and relatively easy to treat, whether it's upping Movicol, reducing fluids before bed, sleeping on a wedge, having regular physiotherapy - they are mostly tangible problems with tangible solutions.

They are the easiest part of our journey.

And the hard part? The hard part is something that cannot be seen or heard or felt or smelled. If you sent Sam for an MRI/scan/scope it would not show up like a tethered spinal cord or malfunctioning oesophagul valve or thickened bowel wall or funky airways or Periventricular Leukomalacia or any of the other things responsible for the above ailments.

FEAR!

Irrational, uncontrollable, all-consuming, life-draining FEAR!

You just cannot begin to imagine what sort of fears a 5 year old could possibly have that might be anywhere near as debilitating as what I'm trying to imply. Let me blog you through our last 36hrs....

After averaging yet another night of only 3-4 hrs sleep, Sam woke grumpy, with a grumbling tummy due to his growing aversion to anything remotely resembling food and the sight of his dad in bed next to him. Yes, sounds like a harsh statement for me to make but Sam knows that Dad not going off to work means weekend which in turn means a change to his daily routine. Pediasure bottle made and handed to shaking hands - Sam has a fear of liquid moving, whether it's waves at the beach, water from a sprinkler, water poured over him in the bath or, as in this instance, milk swishing about in his bottle. It takes him a good few minutes to build up enough courage to put the swishing milk to his lips, almost choking as his shaking prevents him from swallowing calmly. Still, it's an accomplishment as sometimes fear trumps hunger and the bottle goes flying to the floor as if it might cause him physical harm. Fear 0 : Sam 1

Once we're all showered and dressed, off to the kitchen to prepare Sam's porridge. Throwing good parenting skills out the window, I put Sam in front of the TV with his favourite show hoping it will distract him enough to at least tolerate a few spoonfuls. Fail. The second I bring the bowl in he starts gagging. Fear 1 : Sam 1

Dad leaves to drop his car off at service garage. Needing to follow shortly so that I can collect Dad and we can go to shops, I opt for another Pediasure bottle. Sam spots bottle entering the room, gags and throws up what's left of the previous bottle. Fear 2 : Sam 1. Off to fetch dad and brace month-end shoppers on an empty stomach. Or so I thought.

Arrive at service place, walk into dimly-lit garage to see how it's going with car. Sam starts gagging. Mom does not panic as there can be precious little left in the kid's stomach. Wrong! Sam showers the parking lot and mom with a surprising amount of fermenting Pediasure. Fear 3 : Sam 1

Back home to shower and de-puke. Survived a thankfully uneventful shopping trip for nappies and Pediasure. Once home and after yet another food-sighting-induced-gag-session, Sam manages about 5 spoons of mashed potatoes and 120mls of Pediasure. Desperate to have this small helping actually digested, remain at home. Another night of restless, body-bashing follows.

Sam wakes a little more cheerful this morning until his bottle is placed in his hands. More gagging, but luckily this time puke-less. Same story as yesterday when porridge bowl is spotted. Surrender and head off once again to supermarket for the rest of the family's needs. Barely in shop a few minutes when employee decides to remove the strip which keeps the prices in place on the shelves. The 'ripping' noise sends Sam into instant gagging mode and over the next few minutes, Sam empties his entire stomach's contents (?) all over the trolley, shop floor and himself. Mom flees with vomit-saturated kid and scarlet-faced teenager, leaving Dad to finish the shopping. Back home for bath and de-puking. Before heading back to shop to collect Dad, Mom swings by local church to collect two generously gifted items for her new playgroup. Upon pulling into the unfamiliar parking lot and choosing to park right in front of the open doors, a motherload of Pediasure is projected from Sam's stomach. Sam, carseat and car's seat all drenched. Phone Dad to advise we are headed home first for de-puking. Once Dad and groceries have been collected, retreat to our cave giving up (once again) on the Sunday afternoon family outing.

Washing machine works overtime for the remainder of the day, family members tiptoe around with their own food to avoid further gagging and eventually, after a mere 320mls of Pediasure for a straight 24hr period, Sam falls asleep exhausted from a day filled with unexplainably frightening things.

Mom sits next to him on the bed, listening to his grumbling tummy and shushing him when he whimpers in his sleep, feeling helpless and lost about how to help him. Is it possible to avoid all the things that cause her 5 year old so much anxiety? Yes, of course...but it means never leaving home. She wipes the tears from her cheeks as she reminds herself that no-one gets this part of Sam...of their lives, especially the doctors and specialists...and realises that until someone does, it can't ever change.

FEAR 54785588 : MOM 0

Monday, March 9, 2015

Celebrate Rare Disease Day? Yes please.

Oooooohhhh...that word again! And I don't mean the "r" word, which has recently also had its annual "Spread-the-word-to-end-the-word" Awareness Day. Nope, my views on the r-word are so sophisticated and insightful that I dare not share it here. Oh, what the heck. Here it is...

If you use the r-word in an even-remotely derogatory manner - you are a jackass!

Yip, that's about it really. I mean seriously, it's been ages since I've even heard a doctor use the word retard/retarded in a medical context.

I am actually referring to the word "Disease" which accompanies the annual awareness day for rare diseases. To be completely honest, I don't personally view Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome as a disease or my child, who is effected by RTS, as being sickly. But firstly, many of the conditions related to RTS could well be classified as a disease and secondly, and most importantly, the occasion is not actually focussed on "disease" but rather on "rare". Had I been the one to take the initiative, to do the ground work to make the 28th of February an official awareness day, to spend days...weeks...months prior to the 28th February marketing and sharing the importance of having such an awareness day then sure, I might certainly have called it Rare Condition Day or something similar. But it was not me doing all the effort from behind the scenes, so instead of criticising a mere discrepancy with regards to terminology, I choose instead to ride on the wave of awareness to enlighten others about the syndrome which effects my son.

Just as a bit of useless info though...the definition of disease :

"A disorder of structure or function in a human, animal or plant, especially one that produces specific symptoms or that affects a specific location and is not simply a direct result of physical injury"

To learn more about Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome, please visit the official Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome Website

To celebrate Rare Disease Day this year, we joined the Daniel and Friends Fund for a super, fun-filled morning...