South Bay Spinal Center

So, we went down to visit Needlenoggin last night, and went through the whole process of loading the kids in the car and heading down to San Jose. We got there around eight o'clock in the evening, and (thankfully) had no trouble at all signing Rorysaurus (and Little Monkey) in as visitors. In fact, the nurses were thrilled to see Rorysaurus, as most of them had heard some version of the story before.

So, we got into the room, and plunked her down on the bed next to Needlenoggin. We got this picture (which aside from the AWESOME Batman cape, is a lot like all our other recent hospital photos):


Special thanks for that Batman cape are due, as our upstairs housemates sewed it for her as a birthday gift. I'll have to get a good picture of her with the reverse side out...too cool).

Then, the nurses had to do nursing stuff, and we headed out to the day-room to wait. Imagine our surprise when we were greeted at the door by Needlenoggin himself, ready to take us on a tour of the place.


(Note that Little Monkey is actually on my back, but cannot be seen)

So, Rory got up on Needlenoggin's lap, and we tooled around.





Oh yeah, he's awesome. So, he showed us the gym, talked about the very cool support group they'd had on Monday, and drove us around the outside of the place back to our car. It was lovely at the center, and we got to see our first helicopter landing as a Medi-vac came into the helipad there. We've got a bunch of logistical issues (like the fact that they want to split his rehab (due to the broken arm) and so want him to come home 2 weeks before I have a place for him to go), but the visit was fantastic.

He said he's lost some of the sensation he'd gained back at the other hospital, and that his right side it totally and completely numb. The left side remains the same except for some sever pain from a pinched nerve in his hip. We'll have a better prognosis on the broken wrist in a few days. He has a new neck-brace-collar-thing, which works better but is apparently much less comfortable.

He is, however, up for hours at a time now (4 to 5) and went out to a restaurant for dinner with some of his new buddies (they had ribs at a local BBQ joint).

He can even do tricks!



Anyway, everyone kissed him goodbye:



And he made (at my insistence) a cheesy "Hi, Mom" video.



So, there you have it. I've got to reschedule Rorysaurus for her next PTSD appointment (still whining and bed-wetting, but she's finally eating again) and make a bunch of phone calls (most of which I can also do from bed next week).

Can we fit one more in?

Surgery, that is.

Okay, here's the basic story. When I was pregnant with Rorysaurus, I got huge. I didn't gain a lot of weight, but was unable to drive near the end, because my belly prevented me from reaching the pedals and the steering wheel at the same time.



I worked my butt off and lost all the weight but still was having a hard time fitting into my regular clothes. Oh well, whatever.

Then, I got pregnant with Little Monkey. By 15 weeks, I looked like this:



And by 32 weeks, I was using a cane, wearing a belly brace and had still only gained 15 lbs. I was here:



Turns out, when the Rorysaur was in there, she tore my abdominal muscles apart, so there wasn't much holding Little Monkey in. This made it even harder than it would have been otherwise to get him out, since my abs couldn't do their job, and was the cause of the really bad back labor I had with both births.

I was expecting it to go back to normal afterwards, but my swayback and back pain got worse and worse, and I was cautioned not to lift anything over 25lbs. I was ready to ignore it. However, when doing a sit-up, my midwife could fit her whole little hand between my abs, and could feel the intestines underneath so, my GP and I found me some physical therapy and I joined a gym, and got stronger and lost a lot of weight. No progress on the diastasis recti, though. In fact, if anything, it has seemed to get worse. I can't stand up straight, and my back just aches. The GP finally told me to go get a surgical consultation.

So, back in early July, before all of this new drama started, I scheduled a consult. In desperate need of a few hours of peace and quiet, I left the midgets with my friend Kristin (here from out of state to watch the kiddos and help pack), andheaded in to San Fran for the consult. We (the GP, surgeon and I) had been figuring on the surgery sometime this late fall or winter, but two pressing things had happened since then.

1) Little Monkey is 22lbs. This means the amount of time I have where I'm not further injuring my back has shrunk a little, and

2) I'm going to need to be able to help transition Needlenoggin from chair to bed to other chair. Not necessarily all the time, and it won't be that I'm lifing him myself, but I will be helping move someone much larger than my 22lb son and 36lb daughter.

The surgeon wanted me to do the surgery with enough time before Needlenoggin's return to be back to normal activities, but, she was booked until November. So, I went to the assistant's office and started the scheduling process. Then, low and behld, a cancellation! So, my surgery is a week from today. 8/19.

I'll be in the hospital in SF for a night, and then come home to nearly bedrest for a week (only some light walking, no lifting (even of the kids)). I'll have drains in for a while, and will have to do all of Little Monkey's care in bed. However, I will have Tuffy's cousin here to help with the Rorysaur, as well as (possibly) Rorysaurus' Godmother. The week after that, Tuffy should be off pending Little Moneky's surgery, and then the big Neurosurgery itself. Then we'll be taking a week off to move into the new place, and then Needlenoggin should be arriving home.

Nuts? Yeah,of course. However, I'll have a little help, hubby will be home some and my mom will be up for a little bit as well, and when else would I be able to get so many people in here to help us?

Finally some good news

So, Friday morning Rorysaurus, Little Monkey and I managed to get into Needlenoggin's hospital room. It wasn't easy, as they have a "no visitors under 14" policy, and Rorysaurus was a) dressed as Batman and b) wearing red leather clogs. However, his doctors and nurses knew we were coming and all managed to be looking somewhere else when we arrived. :)

Anyway, we got a chance to hang out and see Needlenoggin before the EMTs were scheduled to arrive. Unlike the last few times when Rorysaurus has been a little hesitant, this time she very happily hopped up in the hospital bed with her uncle.



They were thrilled to get to cuddle and watch a movie on his DVD player while we waited (a special thanks to his work buddies who brought him that and the DVDs he watched throughout his hospital stay. It allowed him some entertainment in the ICU and saved him from telenovelas and bad game shows in the TCU).



It was good. The EMTs showed up, told him they'd let him watch movies in the ambulance, and laughed and joked with him. Once the guys heard what he's done, they told him he should work for the fire department! He was all smiles as Rorysaurus kissed him good-bye and he headed out to Santa Clara. When told Little Monkey would miss him as well, he rolled his eyes in a good-natured fashion, so nothing has changed there.

My Fairy Godmother (she's magic and grants wishes) arrived right as they were wheeling him away, and she hopped in the car with us as we headed out. I really need to express my undying thankfulness to her and to Crystal, my good friend from high school, for coming up here. Godmom has two kids of her own and a job, and flew up for the weekend, and this week simply wouldn't have been possible without Crystal. She's just gotten over the worst year ever (as bad as ours has been, maybe) and flew all the way out here from Florida to watch the monsters so I could get back and forth to the hospital and run errands.



Then we were off to Rorysaurus' PTSD appointment. She worked really, really, really hard, taking toys off of shelves and throwing them on the floor, and tucking everything in sight under a blanket to "help them get better." We then went over the whole story of her fall, and reminded her that it wasn't her fault and that Uncle Needlenoggin was happy so she was allowed to be happy and play as well. The "not your fault" meme really stuck with her, and she's been repeating it. She also told the doctor that her uncle "bwoke his back in five pwaces," so at least we know she's listening, right?

We got some suggestions for home, a diagnosis, and another appointment for Monday. Then we came home, slept and made about a dozen phone calls about places to live. Wheelchair access is really, really sketchy in older places, and newer ones are just so expensive. This is the Bay, so most 3 bedroom places are $2000 a month anyway, and if you factor out walk-ups, you're looking at a $2500 average.

Right before bed, Tuffy finally got home from work, and Rorysaurus' package arrived in the mail. We unpacked it and, presto! a chair for Lizabeth!



Rorysaurus spent the rest of her night wheeling Lizbeth around the house, putting her in bed, and checking her heart with clips and wires. Maybe she'll grow up to be a doctor?



Saturday dawned way too early, but we were up and running with the last of our coffee. Despondently, I refreshed craigslist, and started up my so-far-utterly-futile apartment search. I opened up a half dozen ads, and started writing my 56th email. I'd sent out 50 over the last 2 weeks, and made more phone calls than I care to count, and had recived back three responses. So, when I opened up the ad entitled "3 bedrooms in Emeryville for $2300", I knew I was in for yet another converted Victorian with skinny doorways that I'd have to retrofit for Needlenoggin.

Instead, I found this:



Whaaa? So, Tuffy and I drove over and did the application. This place is way out of our price range, but then again, so are all the first-floor apartments and ones in elevator buildings. This one has a court-yard and a pool and BBQ area, and a bathroom with a shower that Needlenoggin can roll into. Of course, Tuffy and I actually looked at this building a few years ago and couldn't afford it, so we were hesitant. We applied, because we have enough in savings that we had planned to use for Rorysaurus to go to preschool and to pay for my teacher's credential that will cover the difference.

It is four blocks, maybe five, to Needlenoggin's job and 6 blocks to Tuffy's. Emeryville is also flat, so biking is way, way, way easier than living in Oakland.

Here's the floorplan:



And...

It looks like we were approved to rent the place! So, now we will at least be able to have a home for Needlenoggin for the next 12 months. The buildings, courtyard, elevators and the apartment itself are wheelchair accessible and they're familiar with service dogs (which we will probably end up with). So, one problem solved.

Oh, and talking to Needlenoggin at night, I was told he's really working his booty off in rehab, and was able to sit up for 40 minutes in a chair. They have support hose and an abdominal compressor that keep his blood in his upper body (so he doesn't pass out) and he spends an hour on and an hour off every day doing PT from 8am to 5 pm. So, he's progressing well!

Moving on out!

Well, Needlenoggin's doing as well as can be expected. He's moved in to the TCU, and is working his numb little butt off. :)

Most exciting is the news that on Tuesday, they sat him up, and told him they were hoping he'd be able to sit for 90 seconds. He did it for 4 minutes. Wednesday, he even was able to sit upright in a chair for 15 minutes! He also is sore in his abdomen from all that balancing upright, which is good, because at least he's feeling something. We're still hoping that he'll regain all of his sensation.

He's doing so well, it looks like they are going to transfer him to the Spinal Cord Injury Program at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center. This is the premier center for spinal injury in the state, so we're more than thrilled that they have a space that fits him.



The only issue I can see about the Spinal Center is that they don't seem to allow visitors under the age of 14. 30-60 days without seeing Rorysaurus would be very, very hard on Needlenoggin, so keep your fingers crossed that there's a way around that policy (having him meet us in the lobby or something). If worst comes to worst, we'll try and set him up with SKYPE (a webcam service) there, and have them talk that way, but I know he loves her hugs and snuggles.

All the center needs us to do now is find him a home to discharge into. ::sigh::

Needlenoggin also has a benevolent account set up through Washington Mutual, now. What this means is that anyone can go into any Washington Mutual in the country and deposit money into account # 3171400381, and it will go towards the van, mobility equipment, wheelchairs and his drastically increased rent. Donations can also be mailed to the Washington Mutual Emeryville Financial Center at 5747 CHRISTIE AVE
in EMERYVILLE, CA 94608-2412. Just include a note saying that the money is to be deposited in account # 3171400381. The donations aren't tax deductible, but they are appreciated.

We took candy (provided by our friend Jessi's mother-in-law, Carol) to his ICU nurses, and took flowers and milk-chocolate seashells to his FANTASTIC surgeon, warm doctor and favorite nurse. He signed all their cards with his left hand (since the right is broken) and while rudimentary, the writing was legible.



Rorysaurus and I (with help from our babysitter) got Fabric paint and made him a shirt for his transfer out to the rehab center, since he'll be leaving tonight or tomorrow and has to wear clothes again. :)



And a special thanks to Fr. Al for his loan of Beethoven the doggy-puppet. Needlenoggin is pleased and amused that he has such a soft little animal to love.



Please keep all of the works-in-progress (we're trying to visit a new apartment this week, and our folks are supposed to look at a van in the next few days as well) in your thoughts and prayers.

Good news

Hooray! I am happy to report that Needlenoggin's spinal drain is out! As of sometime tonight, he'11 have been moved to the TCU (Trauma Care Unit), where there's a little more room, fewer beeping machines, and a TV. Still, I'm sure he'll miss the ICU...his room is so awesomely decorated. Notice a theme?



Rorysaurus has been scheduled for her first PTSD therapy appointment on Friday at 11 am. She's begun climbing into my lap to tell me that she's a baby, and pretending to act like Little Monkey. She even drooled on the floor to make her point. :p

Oh, and checkout the video. Most of thse movement is involuntary but two twitches are him busting his butt.

Good news, bad news

The good news is that Needlenoggin is doing well in that he is in higher spirits than ever and far more coherent. The “ICU psychosis” seems to have passed, and while he is very sleepy and in come pain, he is ready to get off of the ICU floor. Next, they said they will move him to the TCU, and then it will be off to rehab in a week or so. He has minor sensation in parts of his lower legs (if poked hard enough, he feels the pressure on his muscles as warmth), and has some reflexes when pinched and poked. Also, with much straining (enough to break a sweat over the course of nearly 5 minutes), he is able to twitch one toe on his right foot a millimeter or two (!!!!!) They are hoping to take out his spinal drain today and move him in the next 24 hours.

The bad news is that Rorysaurus isn't doing so hot. She still is refusing food most of the time, and isn't sleeping in any kind of a normal manner. Her re-enactments of the accident are getting scarier and more upsetting (they now involve loud “breaking” noises, and she talks about blood and “owies” constantly). She’s also still not sleeping correctly, and has gone 16 or 20 hours at a stretch without eating. I still haven’t sent her back to school, because I’m afraid she’ll be too much of a nuisance, and that she’ll be too scared, whichmeans she is home allthe time, and whining or crying unless she's got Plaza Sesamo or Blue's Clues on. :( I am really worried about her.

Diapers!

Wow. Bay area people are the best! We can't do laundry right now, so we've stopped using the cloth diapers temporarily. However, they're expensive, so we put up a request on freecycle (like a free craigslist that tries to keep stuff out of the landfill) asking for diapers in size 4 or 5. This is what we got:



I'm amazed at the lengths perfect strangers will go to for folks in need.

In Needlenoggin news, he's awake and feeling much better. He was asleep when I went today, but woke up, talked about housing plans, and smiled at the silliness of Rorysaurus' latest song. High spirits and no hallucinations, although it seems he was hearing a few sounds that weren't there earlier today, his nurse reported. Not bad, all things considered.

Oh, and Rorysaurus has decided that she can save things from falling by "airbending" (a term for elemental magic from a show she watches with Needlenoggin). Very cute to watch her tr to move the air to her will.

I was telling a friend today that in our home alone, this year, we've seen more surgeon's bills than the average cost of a home in the US, and close to what my grandmother's Souther California home sold for just a few years ago. Bring on Universal Health Care!

Awww, thank you Reebles!

The donation sites for Needlenoggin and Little Monkey are hosted at Reebles.com. Well, on their main page, Reebles has a link to their corporate blog, and they've picked up the story and have it as their top blog post here.

Needlenoggin's reflexes continue to exist, and he's able to feel pressure, if not touch, in a few points on his lower half.

Rorysaurus is throwing up bile (probably due to her refusal to eat), but is otherwise the same. We're trying some soup tonight.

Wish us luck on the home/van/wheelchair hunt!

Bad headline

So, the headline at OaklandTribune.com reads: Family blames landlord for accident that paralyzed man. However, if you read the article (well written by Ms. Woodall), you'll notice that none of our statements say anything to that effect.

However, in the real paper, the article is titled "Hero Paralyzed; Man falls as rotten landing crumbles." Weirdly enough, the type is exactly the same. Here is what the newspaper article looked like:

Doesn't Tuffy look great? Anyway, we're getting a copy framed for Needlenoggin, and sending a few to family as well.

Update on NeedleNoggin

Tuffy bought Rorysaurus a ukelele, and she wrote a little song for Needlenoggin on it. It has become instant "music therapy" as she's constantly writing songs (many of which are VERY morbid) and dancing around. Getting it out is good, right? Here she is playing (notice the mention of "cuts and bruises") for him.



Also, when visited last night, Needlenoggin was aware and lucid and devoid of hallucinations (yay!). He laughed at Red vs Blue and enjoyed Rorysaurus's little song. He also was quite taken with his news story.

And, if you pinch his toes, his calves twitch. It is spasmodic and he can't feel it, so we're only talking about maybe a reflex, but still, that's something. Hooray! He hugged Tuffy and I when I left and made sure to ask about the Oakland Tribune article that will be out today. Don't know what that says yet, but hopefully it'll be complimentary. he wants it framed.

Oh, and two notes:

Yes, the lawyer knows I'm blogging, and save things specific to the lawsuit, he doesn't much care. Thanks for the heads-up. :)

Thanks for all the support on therapy for Rorysaurus. I do know it is good for her, but there's just something odd about therapy for a preverbal kid. Then again, I know that is my wry amusement, not a good reason to avoid it, so she goes in for her referral tomorrow. She's had a really rough month, and if singing and painting (while I get a quiet 30 minutes in the waiting room) is what she needs, I'm all for it.

Rorysaurus Catchup

So, Rorysaurus has trauma. At first, she was pretty calm about the whole thing, telling strangers she'd fallen down with her uncle and all. Then, she found a picture her grandmother had drawn for her, and edited it.



Those are tears she's drawn on "her" face. "This is me. I'm crying." She went on to try and draw on her doll, Elizabeth, so she could cry as well. Fine, fair enough.

Then, Elizabeth lost her legs.



"So she can't walk." That's right, she's tearing the legs off of her dollies so they can't walk. She also holds imaginary conversations with people on her toy phone, telling them she has "cuts and bwuises." Oh, and she'll lay under her bunkbed clutching her Batman doll to her chest, and say "We fell. Go get help."

And her "painting" of Batman. First she painted him blue, and then decorated him in red.



"He's bleeding," she tells us. She cries, wakes up in a cold sweat with nightmares and won't leave Needlenoggin's room. She's never been a snuggly child, but now she's demanding to be carried and held, and weeping at the drop of, well, anything.

Oh, and she got a Doodlebear (a bear you draw on) from the fire guys. She draws owies and band-aids on it, and throws it down the front stairs. "You can't feel your belly. It hurts you!" (Needlenoggin was crying out that he couldn't feel his belly when he was waiting for the paramedics).



Getting near the back stairs (the door nearest the bathroom) has caused her to cry out that the stairs scare her, and to refuse to be consoled for 45 minutes and to assume the fetal position.

::sigh::

So, our wonderful, beautiful and perfect pediatrician is sending her out to a pre-verbal PTSD specialist. I feel a little Berkeley for sending my 2 year old the therapy, but what can I do? She's scared and haunted and horrified.

Needlenoggin Catchup

On Tuesday 7/22, I picked up my folks at the airport. They got to see Needlenoggin for a bit, then slept for a while. Needlenoggin went in for a spinal fusion surgery, and to have his shattered arm reduced (forcibly limit the swelling so it could be set and splinted). The surgery went on for hours longer than planned, but at 3 am we were able to see him.

Rorysaurus went in to kiss him, and our folks got to see him. It was rough on everyone. The next day he was sarcastic and pleasant, and we did our first lawyer contact. Same plan, basically, Thrusday through Saturday. Needlenoggin has a clot in his kidney that required a drug-adjustment, and he's battling ICU induced psychosis due to a lack of sleep. He now has two black eyes and looks like hell.

We were allowed to take Rorysaurus in to see him, and she was a little afraid of the doctors. She wanted to take Needlenoggin home, and so kissed his owies and tried to drag the bed out with her. When he couldn't come, she started to cry. More on that in the next post.



Anyway, he's lucid and they're going to try to remove his spinal drain and take him off the dopamine tonight or tomorrow. They're hooking him back up onto his CPAP (his machine for his sleep apnea) to see about getting him some more rest, and they've scrounged up a TV for him. He's hurting and lonely, but he needs to rest and I simply can't be there all the time.

On Friday, I simply couldn't take it any longer, and took a baby wipe and cleaned the bits of Needlenoggin's scalp away from the accident site. It was disgusting, and hard to do. his blood is still on the ground, his sandals where they fell.

Also, I've been to the Center for Independent Living and have been told he needs to apply for SSI, CASDI and EDD, as well as Medicare/Cal. Those will probably be done tomorrow. I need to get a notary over to get the power-of-attorney singed so I can sell his bike and sign a lease for him. I also will have to get rid of some parking tickets. :p

Oh, and the Oakland Fire Department came by the house with some toys and good wishes. They were horrified that the boards that gave way were swinging in the wind above our laundry room still. We were advised to call the Oakland PD to request a HAZMAT cleanup (the blood is a biohazard), which I will be doing tomorrow.

On the News!

So, Needlenoggin is in high spirits, has been battling a fever and having some more trouble with his lung contusion. He's stretching and doing his exercises divergently. He's on a new pain medication that is making him a little loopy, but is going to sleep tonight. His paternal grandmother, aunt and uncle came to visit today, which was nice.

We've had an outpouring of love and support here, with some DELICIOUS food getting delivered to Tuffy and I, and some of my "internet friends" coming to babysit the kids for a few hours so I can finish up my semester.

Oh, and his story made the news.

Click to see the video (not on Youtube yet). There's an ad you need to sit through.

We're still waiting for an article in the local paper (should be out in 1 or 2 days).

The other version

Here's the one I wrote:

Our third story landing collapsed today while my brother was taking Roy downstairs for some play time. He wrapped him self around her and held her as they fell. She escaped with minor cuts and bruises...any other way and she would be dead.

And I thought Little Monkey's ordeal was our biggest of the year. Needlenoggin won't be able to come back home here, and so will need a new place to live and a caretaker. We're seeing about the apartment downstairs (soon to be vacant). Anyone know a good lawyer in the SF Bay? Our landlord knew about the rickety stairs and did nothing to address the issue, and now my baby brother won't ever walk again.

It was almost Tuffy and Little Monkey, but they turned back to get something from the house. Oh God, my poor brother.

(and the one a few days later)

Needlenoggin went in for open-spine back surgery at 5pm on 7/22. It was supposed to be a 5 hour surgery, and stretched into 8 hours. They had to remove all the shards of vertebra from his back, and they'd planned to take bone from his hip to graft into the repairs, but were able to just use bone putty, steel rods and screws to shore him up. The top two vertebra were left alone, and will heal on their own (he's in a neck brace, but that is a temporary thing).

He has no sensation from his breastbone to his feet, although he can sense ice on his skin on his upper legs and pinpricks on his right toes. The doctors are pleased, but say tat this only makes it possible that he will be able to move at all. There is really no real chance of him ever walking again.

The building inspector came and condemned the stairs (closing the door after the horse is gone much?), making it impossible for two of the buildings four apartments to be accessed. One woman was in her apartment when the stairs were condemned, and so is in a legal quandry about leaving her home. The other apartment's tenants have had to undo a previous (seemingly illegal)remodel, and are climbing through our closet into their apartment above. We've given them keys, because otherwise, there is no way to get to their home. There apparently was a complaint in 2005 about the stairs, and nothing was done.

We've called a lawyer, and are meeting with him, an investigator and a reporter for the Oakland Tribune on Thursday and Friday mornings. I'll need to email those of you in the Bay about the next weeks' schedules as the kids are not allowed to visit in the ICU (although one of the neurologists broke the rule and let Rory come kiss him today). But, a I am his power of attorney since both his hands are broken, I need to be there for at least a few hours every day.

Crap. This sucks so much. He is in high, if sarcastic spirits, and understands his prognosis. In the next six to eight weeks we have to find a new home (one that is wheel-chair accessible) and move, as well as find and buy a van with a wheel-chair bay. We also have to sell his motorcycle and will get him on the list for a companion animal.

For Starters

Here's where we're coming from, in case you've missed the last 5 years. This was written by Tuffy a few days ago:

I'm pretty sure my daughter Rorysaurus is traumatized for life after the last couple years. She's almost three, and waaaay too familiar with hospitals. It started in January of '07, when she got a staph infection; basically flesh-eating bacteria. We took her to the emergency room when she developed a fever and a pimple on her leg turned into a swollen area the size of my wife's palm. The emergency room sent us home with the wrong antibiotic, and said to contact her pediatrician within the next three days or so.

In the morning she wasn't any better than when we'd left the hospital, so I demanded a same-day appointment with the pediatrician. Apparently, if we'd waited for day two, she'd have lost the leg, and if we'd waited to day three, she probably wouldn't have made it.

It gets worse. Skull surgeries and broken vertebrae abound.

Here's Rorysaurus :

So we got her taken care of, and aside from how the abnormal growth of scar tissue around the drain port they put in at the "pimple," she was fine. It had only eaten away at some fat tissue, but if it had made its way to muscle, bone, or connective tissue, we'd have had big problems. We had a surgery this year to take care of the scar, and now it looks like a small fingernail-clipping sized irregularity. The insurance fight lasted over a year.

So after the flesh eating bacteria, it was fairly normal for a while. I had a surgery for a hernia, but overall, medically, things were going ok. My wife was getting more and more pregnant, and just a few days before my son was born in December, my brother-in-law, who'd just moved in with us in October, got hit on his motorcycle. It crushed his ankle and put him out of work for months. With crutches, and later a cane, he was eventually able to return to work. Here's Needlenoggin , playing with Rorysaurus after he recovered.

Then my son was born a few days after Needlenoggin 's accident. Here's Little Monkey:

He had a bit of a funny shaped head, but the doctors told us not to worry. I think they were just being kind, giving us time to snuggle and love him, because at his 5 day checkup, we were asked to give him a CT scan, and told he had Craniosynostosis. What this means is that the bones of his skull had fused prematurely in four of the six places it could have done so (these places are called sutures), and would crush his brain as it grew unless we had surgery to break up and reshape his head. It was weeks of hell waiting for the surgery, not knowing if he also had one of the syndromes for which craniosynostosis is simply a particularly hellacious symptom. Turns out that although Cranio on more than one suture very rarely happens without one of these horrific genetic disorders. we were lucky. He's a fluke. No disorder, just a healthy baby with a messed up head.

His surgery was in January of '08, and it happened not a week too early. His brain showed signs of stress that weren't visible in the imaging, and holes were worn in the dura, the layer of padding that protects the brain. He was ok. He's happy and healthy and is getting new teeth. Here he is now, posing before an image of what his skull looked like before they fixed it.

Unfortunately, at the checkup appointment with the pediatric neurosurgeon in which we took that photo, we learned he'll need another surgery. September ninth is the date. We have insurance, but my wife set up a donation site here if anyone would like to contribute to all of the associated costs. Even with insurance, this shit ain't cheap (over $70,000 a surgery). If you would like to help, we could use babysitting, casseroles or a couple of bucks.

And that brings us to this week. Sunday night, a neighbor hit our parked car. Nobody was in it, nobody was injured, but I went to work Monday feeling miserable and pissed off. Needlenoggin had spent part of his weekend digging out a flat place in our yard for a new little playhouse to sit, and then spent Monday morning before he left for work playing with Rorysaurus in it. It must have felt so good to have that mobility back again.

Monday evening, I got home before Needlenoggin and decided I'd like to take Rorysaurus downstairs and play with her there myself. My wife said she was going to go run some errands, so I was in charge of both kids, and Needlenoggin got home shortly after she'd left. I told Needlenoggin what the plan was and started to head out the back door to the old staircase that winds down the side of the old Victorian house we share with 3 other apartment units, while he was getting changed out of his work uniform and would join me momentarily.

I paused in heading out with the two kids, and decided Little Monkeyneeded something warmer, since it was getting on into evening, though still bright and sunny. Dressing a baby can take a few minutes, so -- God, I'm crying as I write this -- I turned back to dress him properly. I sat down in his room, and was snapping on his outfit when I heard the crash.

Neighbors were shouting, 9-11 got at least eight different phone calls. I looked out the back door and everything seemed normal, until I looked to my feet. The landing outside our door wasn't quite there anymore. It had become a trap door that swung open under Needlenoggin's weight. I looked down from our second story apartment and saw him bleeding and crumpled at basement level, and I had no idea where my daughter was. He'd picked her up and headed out the door, and she wasn't there.

Apparently, he had grabbed her close, tucked, and rolled to ensure that she landed on top of him. By the time I'd looked out the door, she'd gotten up and run to our neighbor's door for help. Scratches and bruises are all she got from it.



Needlenoggin broke his back in six places saving her life. He will almost certainly never walk again. He was refusing treatment until certain that she was taken care of, but she'd been taken to a different hospital, one able to deal with children. My wife reassured him that she was ok, under observation just long enough to ensure there was no head trauma, no internal bleeding or other issues, and he relented.



I don't really know how to end this story. It hasn't ended yet. His parents flew up and waited through his eight hour surgery to see him at 2 am. Rorysaurus saw him, too, tubes, hoses, monitors and all, and has yet another strong imprint of hospital drama in her mind. We're hiring a lawyer, and we're advised to hire an investigator as well. We have to move in the next two months to a wheel-chair accessible place, buy a lift-equipped van and a wheelchair. He has no insurance, and yes, I know some of that will get re-paid after the lawsuit, but who knows when that will happen. All of this has to get done by my wife, with two kids, while she preps for Little Monkey's surgery, so if you'd like to help out our hero, here's that link, too. We'll see where it goes.