Rattling Cages

One of the things that has seemed to blossom (back) out of me because (in my younger years I was a tiger type person with fire that would flood through me in a quick instance) and through the years I softened. I learned that "Kindness Is Power" and it most certainly gets you farther than the opposite.

When you go through a crisis, whether it be medical or death, I believe it changes you forever. As much Faith, prayer and spiritual guideness you have, it just does. I've been fighting back to be the old Lisa. To smile when at times I want to cry. Or tell people off. I try to love harder even when at times I want to crawl away from it all. And from being the over bearing worry mom that nags. And walks in circles or paces around frantically because she wants to protect her only son.

We are here at Kaiser. Yesterday I started rocking boats. This morning I rattled cages. Today I do both. Truth is, I'm scared. He's scared. He has pneumonia. Along with that fearful word, the infection has spread to his blood. Fever gone. But he asks honest questions to doctors. Questions that some times he really doesn't want to hear. His body is delicate. It's at a level that microisms of tiny bugs in the air can attack him.

His white counts have rose. His platelets dropped even more. My request this morning was to have him transferred back to where his transplant team can closely monitor him. Along with that, a request to have a port put in. Labs are at an all time high. They're running out of places to draw, along with two different IV's that have "come out" and when they "come out" blood is everywhere. Blood is everywhere because platelets are at 41. Fluid filled his upper hand area.

These days are worth fighting, praying and doing what I can.
They know who we are here. This place doesn't specialize in post transplant patients.
He's frustrated with me today. As much as he wants to be thankful and loving, he scared.
And so he's blasting reggae. He's defiant about God. About praying.
Right now, he adjusts his sails for me to navigate the waters. He knows I still have the fight in me to get the best if the best.
I'm tired. And worn down.
When you fall into the life of cancer. It's all the risk. Of it all.
As much as we want to just be better, and healed....it's all part of it.
Can he be a boy in a bubble? No.
Can I suggest and love, and do what I can to help him help himself? Ya.
Suggestions, arguments, protection and navigations. It's the deal we are handed.

For today, we wait. For labs. Changes of medicine. Doctors who are working on finding the best path for a guy they don't know.  Letting me talk or vent because it's my job here in a place where a nurse
Asks what liver transplant meds he's on. While I rub my forehead and clarify otherwise.

It's not their speciality. They're here to work. Just like you and me. Work.
Their days are long. Nights are even longer.
So there's the update.
Most likely a transfer. To Sunset Kaiser. A port/picc line once infection is under control.
Medicine(anti-rejection) drug is eliminated.
The science of medicine is no joke. One fights with the other. Graft versus host disease is the player in the game. Steroids. Infection.


I most certainly appreciate the prayers. I'm working on Kris. He has Faith, but wants to have signs from God. He's angry and he's confused.

All my love, and peace to you.

I'll try to keep the peace around here. Lately, I've been losing my shit.

This mama lisa