Scott is doing well, maybe having overdone it a bit today, but it was a nice day nonetheless.

I preferred being with them over having to sit still and reverently in a Sunday School class. We would play and they would sing good and hard for me. So, after several hundred singing times, I feel a bit of vested interest in all of the Primary children. And it's not that I intentionally picked favorites, but there are some children in particular that I have thoroughly enjoyed watching grow up.

So, I noticed when Trevor kept singing when the other boys deemed themselves too cool on the back row. I noticed how grown up he looked in his first suit. And after we sang him out of Primary, I was always happy to watch him pass the sacrament, which he did with reverent enthusiasm.

When the deacons were asked to keep their hair styles conservative, so as to not distract from the sacrament, Scott and I wondered if it would be a problem since several of the boys had multi-colored hair. We were deeply impressed to see, the very next week, Trevor's hair was unfrosted. Such a small thing, but it revealed respect and obedience.

Last summer, he literally bounced/ran over our half acre of weeds with the lawn mower, and never seemed bothered that it was blistering hot. He brought tools, and I told him that he needn't bother trimming, since I didn't care whether the yard lived or died, but he would have nothing of it. I was amazed each time he came, and wondered how many times he had come while we were in Salt Lake dealing with other things.

It's been such a pleasure to know Trevor. Thank you. Thank you, also, for your strength and testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Trevor's was the most comforting, uplifting funeral I have ever attended. I am so grateful I went.

God Bless the Walkers. Heaven knows they've been a blessing to us.

Just for the record, we have never seen Hellboy 1 or 2. Thank you, Valyn.

So, Scott plans on going to a late afternoon meeting, tomorrow, and returning to teach classes on Monday. From what I can tell, he's running at about 68.3% of normal capacity. Pretty amazing for a man that had 46 staples removed yesterday. I think he will do great. At least, that's what I'm hoping, because he's absolutely miserable to be around otherwise.

It's unbelievable for things to flip from so bad to so good. I'm not complaining, but I'm not completely convinced we are done with this gig, either. Please, Lord- at least, give my brains a fighting chance of coming back before they're all spilt out again.

We're home. Scott's doing well. Kids are great. Back to real life? Hmmmmm....... we'll see.

Hi Diana,

We are doing quite well, actually. I have Scott out of the hospital. We are staying at his cousin's house till Thursday as he has a dr appointment Wednesday afternoon. As for the house, my mother has been there all week with the kids. No worries.

We've had such huge miracles this last week, and against such bleak odds. To have the artery closed off....... I was hysterical knowing he would need an immediate re-transplant- oh! to do that again- and yet, he doesn't and he's fine, and his liver labs are COMPLETELY NORMAL!!!! No one can question but that God has intervened on our behalf.

I'm thinking that I should never get so worked up about anything, because the Lord has it all figured out. I've wasted so much energy this week going berserk. "Be still, and know that I am God." keeps coming to mind, and there's so much untapped strength to be had in being still.

Emi called this morning to tell us about Trevor. We are grieved and praying for the Walkers.

It pains me to see the Lord take such great pains to spare one good man's life, and yet have another one taken in an instant. I don't understand. It must be one of those things that you have to shove under the blanket of grace or go insane. Hopefully, "Be still, and know that I am God." will absorb even the most intense landscape of emotions.

much love and loyalty to the sisters,
Brenda

In retrospect, I can see that I probably should have been a little more aggressive in getting his pain medication switched to something else, last night. But, the dr was worried it might make him more nauseated, and honestly, I don't usually mind if Scott is a bit snowed while he's in the hospital. He's so miserable otherwise. This, however, was quite a bit over the top of being tolerably stoned.

So today, Scott went to work and critiqued student art, and talked to Wade. He saw the kids come and go in the room; Charlotte danced, and Naomi poured birdseed all over the floor. When dietary came, Scott told them we had taken the kids to see the movie Hellboy 2. Cars drove through the halls, and ants crawled all over his hands and the floor. It was one hallucination after another; random pieces from his life jumbled together in a visual soup. He was always courteous and polite, though; laughing often with the people that strolled in and out of his dreams.

It is a bit worrisome. Thank goodness, he was much improved by the end of the day, and the drs assure me it won't be permanent. Although, it all leads me to think that our senile years might end up as being pleasant and amiable even if, perchance, they are not lucid.

Thanks to our visitors, today. The blanket is wonderful, and we do feel loved.

Not a great day, but considering that all his liver labs are holding, I can tolerate his nausea, and medication induced hallucinations. He thinks he might be dying, but everyone else is thrilled he's doing so well. I guess it's all how you look at it.

Three of my sisters drove 4 hours to deliver a care package just for me, and then drove the 4 hours back. It was very sweet. Another sister dropped by with her family after driving 2 hours, and had lunch. Thank you. Another is in town, and I am hoping to see her in the morning. I am grateful for great support, and the many prayers. Thank you, thank you.

It's too early to tell, for sure, but Scott's labs suggest that his bile ducts are not suffering, and his liver is working very close to normal. We have been made aware that things might look great for months only to have his liver then die off slowly, and there would be nothing to be done about it, but to wait for him to become sick enough for a re-transplant. But, just for now, just for tonight, let me dream that it's possible, although not probable, that we will walk out of the hospital in just a few days, and never have to deal with nasty liver stuff, again.

Do I dare even ask for such a miracle?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Scott's doing well. He is being moved out of the ICU to an intermediate unit sometime this afternoon. No one can tell me what is going to happen next, because they don't know. We are all just waiting to see what happens.

Waiting, breathing, praying......... this routine seems so familiar..... hmmm......... It worked out, before. We've been blessed. It will work out, again.

Thanks for the prayers and support.

I am encouraged after speaking with the surgeon, this morning.

#1) The liver has two blood supplies. I didn't know that. All the blood from the pancreas, stomach, and intestines travels through the liver through the portal vein on its way back to the heart. It's used blood, but blood nonetheless, and people, albeit mostly children, have been known to survive on it. Scott's pretty youthful, so the probability of it being OK increases a lot.

#2) The hepatic artery had strictures, an aneurysm, and a blood clot. Chances are that he wasn't getting a solid blood supply from it, anyway. Also, it doesn't look like it happened overnight, and that the liver may have been compensating by developing new blood vessels out from the portal vein. This theory is supported by the fact that Scott's liver enzymes have not spiked significantly, this morning. This is fabulous news. I am encouraged.

#3) Should it not work out, Scott will still be able to be re-transplanted, which I think would be hell, but since there is nothing I can do about it, I will take what I can get.

Today's agenda: Recover from major surgery. Walk. Drink that awful drink that is supposed to bring his potassium down and give him diarrhea. Not pleasant, but no more unpleasant than what we've seen.

I had understood that if they couldn't accomplish the graft that Scott would instantly be re-listed for transplant as a Status 1. But, Dr Sorensen said that a minority of his patients who have their hepatic artery closed off do just fine with only the portal vein supplying blood to the liver. I don't understand it at all, and we won't know if Scott falls in this category for a couple of days. He also said that the liver failure usually happens relatively slowly, although some go into a crisis right away. So, re-transplant might not be an absolute, immediate must.

I saw Scott in the surgical ICU. He looked good; was still sleeping. I know the night nurse from when Scott had his transplant, and trust him, so Adele and I came back to the hotel to sleep.

I guess it's at least something to have the day end with everyone dear to you breathing. I'm just so grateful the day ends.

Mercy.

I've had worse days, but not many.

So, they were able to put the stent in the artery, but then the artery dissected, meaning the inside layer of the artery split off, creating a flap that cut off the blood supply to Scott's liver. This is bad, very bad.

So, the transplant surgeons have thawed out a cadaveric artery they happened to have in the freezer next to the peas, and are doing a bypass surgery of sorts as we speak. If they are unsuccessful, Scott will be re-listed for transplant, get the next available liver not matter what shape it is in, and he will be fine.

Any questions?

Adele and I have a room at the University Guesthouse, because it is going to be a very long night, and I can't barbarically eat a whole chicken in the surgical waiting room, barefoot and without a bra. Trust me, it's better this way.

The nurse will call me every two hours, and the Dr will call me personally when he finishes.

I have never seen surgeons so somber. Pray for them.

We really did have a wonderful weekend. Children's Discovery Center with the kids, Scott's birthday party here at Jan's, lunch at the Dairy Keen, sent the kids home with John and Kathy, dinner at Adele's. Very nice.

So, I have a whole day of picking my nose; waiting for tomorrow. Scott bought me 4 pairs of shoes, I'm trying out my new wrinkle cream, and we might go for a movie later. Right now, I am settling down for a nap. I know, poor baby.

To think, Tamina is stressed about how I am really doing.

Really, sweetie, I'm way fine.

Really.

I worked hard to keep it all down, and it paid off. That guacamole bacon swiss ranch burger and large order of onion rings is stuck to my hiney forever. It was close, but I did it.

So, we sent the kids back to Idaho with Scott's parents. It took JA a grand total of 3 hours to fall apart, and call sobbing that this arrangement is too hard. When are we coming home!?! Poor kid- anything unpredictable stresses him out of his gourd. I wonder who he got that from. Hmmm.....

Bill accelerated just in time so the careening car of unbuckled teenagers barely nicked our back bumper, spinning them into the bushes. It's likely we would've been hurt, but practically guaranteed they would have been considered prime donors. Do they even have any idea how close they came to being carved in stone? Crazy.

I don't like that all it takes is one missed stop sign, or a physician's phone call to crush your illusion of control. I'd rather keep lying to myself than acknowledge that all I have are choices; influences.

"Dad loves candy. Let's get him lots." So we did, and N wrapped it up in Christmas paper. I don't think he will be disappointed. I guess I could wrap the wrinkle cream I purchased for myself, but it probably wouldn't be that funny to him. Happy Birthday, Scott.

"Oh! That means I can stay with my friends!!!!" C is the only person excited about all this. I'm a little envious that I can't be 5 and make a party out of absolutely everything.

The appointment has been changed to Wednesday morning so another Dr in interventional radiology can help. They are canceling all other appointments and having staff come in early. We've dealt with IR enough to know they don't do all that on a whim. I think it's a result of having the transplant deities advocating on our behalf. I'm not complaining.

Also, to our relief, the procedure and the overnight stay has been moved to the Huntsman Cancer Hospital. It's much nicer there, and it guarantees that he won't be staying on the 6th floor of the University Hospital. Everything is going to be OK.

the scoop

Ok. Tuesday morning, interventional radiology is going to thread a stent into the hepatic artery. The transplant surgeons will attend and intervene with all out surgery if needed, but the hope is that this will fix the problem and we can get back to our happily ever after ASAP.

We are going to play at Jan and Bill's house for the weekend, and have dinner with Scott's family on Sunday to celebrate Scott's birthday. The dinner will be at Jan's and she is cooking, so it promises to be fabulous fun. Monday, we will go up to Heber to see the MaWhinney side of the family; the main draw being fried twinkies for Freaky Food February at the Dairy Keen. John and Kathy are coming home from helping Scott's sister move, and will bring the kids home, Monday night, where my mother will stay with them and get them off to school and such.

Any questions?

I guess I need to open the blog, again, for family and friends to keep them up to date on what is going on. I'm not excited about it.

So, Scott's been diagnosed with a hepatic arterial aneurysm. It's a rare complication of transplant. There's talk of stents, and surgery. We're not sure what's going to happen.

It's incredibly serious, but I don't think that Scott is going to die. I think if God wanted him at all, He would just let the aneurysm burst and get it over with without any fuss. Why go through all this trouble of finding it and dealing with it? No, it's just the standard pain in the patookas.

I so need some fried chicken.