I've been trying to get to the computer all day but it didn't work out until now. So much has happened in the last 24 hours. Last night Steve went into surgery to undergo the tracheostomy. While in surgery, Dr. Hanpeter also removed the bullet from Steve's upper back along with additional debris. Both procedures went very well. Steve is looking better without the breathing tube in his mouth even though he's still on the ventilator.
The really big news is that Steve was moved today to USC University Hospital for which we are extremely grateful. We loved the staff and care Steven received at Holy Cross but in order to have the perfect team of plastic and oral maxillofacial surgeons, Steven had to go to USC. However, we were very lucky that Dr. Hanpeter also has priveleges at USC so he is still Steve's main doctor which we are very happy about. All things considered, we are feeling very relieved to be here at USC with a great team of doctors and a good treatment plan and we are optimistic about Steve's recovery.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Little Signs
Andrew (Steve's son), Ashley (Andrew's girlfriend), Robin (Steve's Mom) and I went back to the hotel early this morning around 1:30 and got a few hours sleep. It's amazing what a little rest will do to improve your outlook. We returned to the hospital at 8 this morning and met with Steven's nurse, Karen. There were no changes and Steven did well throughout the night.
I got an encouraging sign from Steven that made me realize he hears us when we talk to him and his personality is very much alive and well inside his sleeping body. Thinking about all the things I wanted to tell him, I grabbed his hand and held it for a while. Then I told him that so much has happened and I couldn't wait until he was awake so I could tell him. At that moment he raised his left eyebrow as if to say, "No kidding!" I loved that.
We are awaiting the arrival of Dr. Hanpeter who is the main doctor, the trauma doctor who has been treating Steve from the beginning. Dr. Hanpeter mentioned yesterday that today Steve will likely have a follow-up CT scan of his chest and a brocoscopy to suction fluid out of his lungs.
Thank you all for the prayers...please keep them coming.
I got an encouraging sign from Steven that made me realize he hears us when we talk to him and his personality is very much alive and well inside his sleeping body. Thinking about all the things I wanted to tell him, I grabbed his hand and held it for a while. Then I told him that so much has happened and I couldn't wait until he was awake so I could tell him. At that moment he raised his left eyebrow as if to say, "No kidding!" I loved that.
We are awaiting the arrival of Dr. Hanpeter who is the main doctor, the trauma doctor who has been treating Steve from the beginning. Dr. Hanpeter mentioned yesterday that today Steve will likely have a follow-up CT scan of his chest and a brocoscopy to suction fluid out of his lungs.
Thank you all for the prayers...please keep them coming.
Critical But Stable
It's been a very long day and Steve remains in critical but stable condition. His doctors, nurses and respiratory therapists have been working around the clock to ensure Steve is receiving the very best medical care. We are thankful. Steve continues to be intubated but there were times today when he showed that his lungs are strong even though the machine is breathing for him. Although Steve is still heavily sedated, the doctor removed the paralytic from his IV and he is doing well without it. He is very swollen which is to be expected as they are pumping him full of fluid. The immediate plan is to perform a tracheostomy, insert a feeding tube, and wire his jaw shut, however, we're not sure when this will all be accomplished. Until then, we're taking it one moment at a time.
As for the Jenkins kids, they are so very brave but they miss Daddy. They have a lot of questions and we are telling them the truth in a way they can understand. Kylie asked, "What does the guy who shot Daddy look like? Does he have a long beard?" And Janie was explaining to Granny that Daddy couldn't come on the upcoming field trip. Granny was very sympathetic and then Janie exclaimed, "Even if he wasn't shot, he still couldn't go. The teacher didn't pick his name out of the hat." Ryan hasn't said much about all of this. He's been very quiet and satisfied to play his favorite video games. But at bed time tonight they cried and wanted to know why everyone else got to see Daddy and they couldn't. That was hard.
On behalf of Steven and the entire Jenkins, Merkovsky, Murphy and LAPD families, thank you for all the prayers and healing thoughts. We are grateful beyond words for the endless love and support we are receiving. I can't wait to share all of this with Steve.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Having Trouble Finding Words
I'm finding it very difficult to find words to describe the last 30 hours. I've been on auto pilot since 3:47 Monday morning when I got the call the Steve had been shot at work. It's been surreal, like an out of body experience. Instead of repeating what's already been said, I'll let the following link describe what happened:
http://www.ktla.com/videobeta/?watchId=3d001975-17a5-42a0-8577-4b65045a1142
Steve suffered two gunshot wounds, one to the right side of his face and one to his upper left chest. The bullet wound he sustained to his chest damaged a large vein, broke ribs, and punctured his lung. The gunshot wound he sustained to his face shattered his lower right jaw and will require reconstruction. He is holding his own, however, he is heavily sedated and intubated. We haven't talked to the doctor yet today but we know from yesterday's conversation that he will have a few procedures probably tomorrow. On behalf of our entire family, thank you all for the outpouring of support. We feel surrounded by love and nothing but healing thoughts and prayers.
http://www.ktla.com/videobeta/?watchId=3d001975-17a5-42a0-8577-4b65045a1142
Steve suffered two gunshot wounds, one to the right side of his face and one to his upper left chest. The bullet wound he sustained to his chest damaged a large vein, broke ribs, and punctured his lung. The gunshot wound he sustained to his face shattered his lower right jaw and will require reconstruction. He is holding his own, however, he is heavily sedated and intubated. We haven't talked to the doctor yet today but we know from yesterday's conversation that he will have a few procedures probably tomorrow. On behalf of our entire family, thank you all for the outpouring of support. We feel surrounded by love and nothing but healing thoughts and prayers.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Results
I've been a bit of a basket case lately while waiting for the PET scan results. I tried to prepare myself for all possible scenarios but I soon realized that if the doctor told me the cancer was back, I would be a mess in every way. And the more I rehearsed in my head how it would go if I got bad news, the more devastated I became. Depressed, I suppose, is the exact word. It's hard to describe the way this whole thing messes with your head. I try desperately to be positive and secure in knowing there is a bigger plan for me. But there is no security. And unavoidably there are dark moments when I am forced to wonder what would happen if my kids needed me and I was no longer there. It got bad recently when Omar Rodriguez passed away. That hit hard.
I didn't tell anyone, not even Steve about the way I was feeling. I didn't want to worry anyone. I've had a few strange physical symptoms lately including headaches, severe fatigue, and an occasional burning in my chest. Anyway, Steve and I drove up to Pasadena today for the appointment with Dr. McNamara. We mostly listened to Mark & Brian on the radio and didn't talk much. I was too distracted by my own thoughts to carry on a conversation. As it turns out, he was feeling much the same. We arrived at the appointment early and went in for the blood work. After labs, we headed to the 3rd floor to see the doctor. When we arrived in the waiting room, we saw a woman about my age sitting there. We saw her earlier in the waiting room for lab work and I couldn't help noticing the scarf on her head, hiding the inescapable hair loss from chemo. She was there with what appeared to be a female friend or perhaps a relative and she mentioned to the friend about her chemo infusion she would be having that day after she saw Dr. McNamara. But now she was sitting near us in McNamara's waiting room.
We sat in the waiting room for a few minutes when we heard Dr. McNamara's voice. As I listened, I could hear him walking toward the waiting room. At that moment he appeared, walking with a patient to the elevator and talking about some subject not at all familiar to me. He shook hands with the patient, who got on the elevator, and turned. He walked right past the woman with the scarf and came directly to me, which I was not at all expecting. He extended his right hand as he said, "Congratulations! Your scan looked great!" Steve and I both gasped with excitement and relief. We shook the doctor's hand and then hugged him. He said he would see us in a few minutes and then he walked back to the examination rooms.
Steve and I began to cry. I was so very relieved. Steve was relieved. And then it hit me. The woman. The woman in the scarf. What about the woman in the scarf??? As I dabbed my eyes with a kleenex, I looked in her direction. She was facing away from us, staring straight ahead and I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking after what had just unfolded in front of her. This was such a bittersweet moment for me. Call it empathy or compassion, I don't know. But my heart just ached. My heart ached for the woman in the scarf. I wanted to hug her and tell her everything was going to be ok. Instead I sat there and closed my eyes and said a prayer for her. I said a prayer for her like all of you did for me.
Not a moment too soon, the nurse called the woman in the scarf. And shortly after that I was called. The appointment with Dr. McNamara was great. The best possible news. I read the PET scan report which said, "The pet scan is now negative. There is no evidence of residual or recurrent malignancy." Dr. McNamara said he can't wait to show the report to Dr. Paz. Funny...
I didn't tell anyone, not even Steve about the way I was feeling. I didn't want to worry anyone. I've had a few strange physical symptoms lately including headaches, severe fatigue, and an occasional burning in my chest. Anyway, Steve and I drove up to Pasadena today for the appointment with Dr. McNamara. We mostly listened to Mark & Brian on the radio and didn't talk much. I was too distracted by my own thoughts to carry on a conversation. As it turns out, he was feeling much the same. We arrived at the appointment early and went in for the blood work. After labs, we headed to the 3rd floor to see the doctor. When we arrived in the waiting room, we saw a woman about my age sitting there. We saw her earlier in the waiting room for lab work and I couldn't help noticing the scarf on her head, hiding the inescapable hair loss from chemo. She was there with what appeared to be a female friend or perhaps a relative and she mentioned to the friend about her chemo infusion she would be having that day after she saw Dr. McNamara. But now she was sitting near us in McNamara's waiting room.
We sat in the waiting room for a few minutes when we heard Dr. McNamara's voice. As I listened, I could hear him walking toward the waiting room. At that moment he appeared, walking with a patient to the elevator and talking about some subject not at all familiar to me. He shook hands with the patient, who got on the elevator, and turned. He walked right past the woman with the scarf and came directly to me, which I was not at all expecting. He extended his right hand as he said, "Congratulations! Your scan looked great!" Steve and I both gasped with excitement and relief. We shook the doctor's hand and then hugged him. He said he would see us in a few minutes and then he walked back to the examination rooms.
Steve and I began to cry. I was so very relieved. Steve was relieved. And then it hit me. The woman. The woman in the scarf. What about the woman in the scarf??? As I dabbed my eyes with a kleenex, I looked in her direction. She was facing away from us, staring straight ahead and I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking after what had just unfolded in front of her. This was such a bittersweet moment for me. Call it empathy or compassion, I don't know. But my heart just ached. My heart ached for the woman in the scarf. I wanted to hug her and tell her everything was going to be ok. Instead I sat there and closed my eyes and said a prayer for her. I said a prayer for her like all of you did for me.
Not a moment too soon, the nurse called the woman in the scarf. And shortly after that I was called. The appointment with Dr. McNamara was great. The best possible news. I read the PET scan report which said, "The pet scan is now negative. There is no evidence of residual or recurrent malignancy." Dr. McNamara said he can't wait to show the report to Dr. Paz. Funny...
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Upcoming Scan
I have a PET scan this Friday that I almost forgot about because I've been so preoccupied with other things. Recently we drove to Oregon to pick up Me-Mom who will be staying with us for a few weeks. Here are some pictures of the trip:
This is the view from Me-Mom's front porch. She lives in the woods in Williams, Oregon.
To celebrate Me-Mom's birthday, we had lunch with the whole family at a restaurant on the Rogue River.
Me-Mom has the tiniest frogs in her front yard!
Here's Janie holding mini Kylie with one hand!
And here's Kylie holding mini Ryan.
On the way home from Oregon, we stopped to see the amazing redwoods. It's like wandering through a land of giants, the greenest place I've ever been.
Ahhh...the fresh air...
But now we're home, back to real life. And Friday is my PET scan.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
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