CODE!!!

Here's the part I have been dreading to remember.........

Like I shared before, it began with a knock (really a pounding) on our door at the hospital sleep-in room around 3:00 a.m. The nurse told us to get dressed and come to the waiting room. She said Peter had had some complications and Dr. Watts would be in soon to talk to us. We waited an agonizing hour in that waiting room. Tom paced the room over and over again, while I just cried. We had no idea what was going on and the longer we waited, the more we wondered if the Dr. would be coming with the news that Peter was no longer with us. Finally, Dr. Watts came in along with the nurse and explained what happened. Around 2:30 a.m., Peter's nurse had just done a blood-gas check on him and his numbers were perfect. She then turned him on his side (standard to turn them from time to time), and Peter's heart stopped. They performed immediate C.P.R., but were unable to get Peter's heart started again. They then re-opened his chest and Dr. Watts manually pumped Peter's heart (literally with his hand) until they got him hooked up to ECMO (heart/lung machine that removes the blood from the body, oxygenates it, and puts it back in the body - basically, performs the function of the heart and/or lungs similar to what is used in open-heart surgery). Dr. Watts said that Peter's blood pressure was stable throughout this "event," but only time would tell what the fall-out was. He said Peter may not make it, may have brain damage, and there was a slim possibility that he would recover completely. Not good odds.

Dr. Watts told us we would be able to see him in about 30 minutes, once they cleaned up the room. I realized that the room probably looked like a war-zone. As we waited, I continued to cry while Tom made phone calls. I'm so thankful that Tom was able to function because I could not. Throughout this whole experience, it seemed that if Tom was down, I was doing okay and if I was down, Tom was doing okay. Another example of God's plan. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 says that two people are better than one because if one falls, the other is there to lift him up. This Scripture perfectly describes Tom and me. We both fell (more than once), but when we did the other was there to pick up the first one. We never hit our low points at the same time.

The nurse came back in a while and took us to Peter's room. I only vaguely remember this period of time. I do remember the night nurse standing there and I could tell by the look on her face that she wondered how we were going to react. She did nothing wrong, but when a parent's baby has gone through something like that, it's normal to want to blame someone, all the more so when there isn't someone to blame. We want answers. We want reasons. But we don't always get that luxury. I can recall clearly making a choice right then and there to resist the urge of my flesh to cast blame and look to my sovereign God instead. He knew the answers. He knew the reasons. Whether I liked it or not, I had to rest in that.

Tom and I didn't stay with Peter too long. We went back to our sleep-in room to get ready. I should say for Tom to get ready because I was beyond being able to function. I laid on the bed and again turned on my computer to hear some preaching. In the sermon I listened to, I heard the words, "Our theology is not shaken by death." That one statement alone enabled me to at least make at attempt at getting up out of the bed. Very shortly after that, our pastor arrived and soon after him, more friends. These sweet people helped us get our stuff moved out into the waiting room and sort of "set up camp" there.

Throughout the morning, we drifted between Peter's room and the waiting room. Dr. Watts came and talked to us again and said they wanted to do a heart catheterization. He said Peter had developed several collateral ("extra") arteries going from his heart to the left lung (the body's way of compensating for lack of blood flow to that lung). Their suspicion was that with the left pulmonary artery now connected, there was too much blood flow and it overwhelmed Peter's heart. Dr. Watts described it as if you never did a day of exercise in your life and suddenly decided to run a marathon - obviously your body couldn't take it. They wanted to coil off some of those collateral arteries. We agreed, and they took him down to the cath lab around mid-afternoon.

Of all my low points, this was the lowest. We met with the interventionist (heart cath specialist) and he said that Peter's chance of simply surviving the procedure were extremely slim, considering he had open-heart surgery the day before, a bad "event" that night, and he was on ECMO. I clearly remember barely holding it together until we got back to the waiting room and then telling my mom I HAD to get out of the hospital for a little while. She took me to her car. We both sat in there and just cried. We made some phone calls through our tears also. I will never forget that time. For the first time in this journey, I had to think about what it would be like to drive home without Peter in the car. I even had to face the fact that we might have to make some funeral decisions. Overwhelming. Painful. Beyond words.

After awhile in the car, Tom called to tell me we had some more visitors, one being Dr. Russell Willis from Pitts Baptist Church. He has always been one of my favorite people and the thought of him being there brought a lot of comfort to me. When facing the extreme circumstances of life, people that have lived many years on this earth can bring a strength with them that no one else can. My mom and I went back to the waiting room, where there was a large number of people. Again, we passed the time with talk, and again - miraculously - with some laughter. Finally, about 6:15, we got word that Peter had tolerated the procedure well and was headed back to the CVICU. The Dr. was able to coil off about 7 of the 10 collateral arteries. (Since then, I've seen many chest X-rays of Peter and it looks like he literally has a coiled phone cord running lengthwise inside his chest.)

To be completely honest, I don't remember much about the rest of that day. I know we spent some time with Peter and then went to bed. I do remember being in a state of exhaustion like I had never known before or since. I do also remember that we slept that night.

It was several days (I think even over a week) before the charge nurse that night told us some more details. I'm thankful for these details and I'm also thankful we learned about them later, when we were able to handle that knowledge. She said that she was in the breakroom when the code came out. She ran into Peter's room and she said he was gray. She told us her first thought was, "Why are they doing anything? This baby is dead." The nurse told us that Peter is without denial a miracle. He shouldn't have lived.

"You shall not die, but live and declare the works of the Almighty God." - Psalm 118:17