Emmett's Insides, Part II

Remember two years ago when I wrote about our adventures with the pediatrician and Rolin's cow's milk protein allergy?

It's Emmett this time. He has it too.

His is worse, though. Rolin's didn't show up until he was about four months old (that and we didn't know any better).

Almost one month to the day after Emmett was born, his beautiful, seedy, mustard yellow, perfect-looking breast-fed-baby poop turned dark green.

I hoped and prayed it was simply an imbalance in foremilk/hindmilk, though I knew that wasn't going to be the case. He was a champion eater.

He pooped frequently and most of them were mucusy. As predicted, a stool sample left at the doctor's office came back positive for blood.

So I cut dairy out of my diet.

Green, blood and mucus continued so we tried eliminating dairy and soy. I told the doctor that eggs upset my stomach sometimes, so she suggested taking it easy on eggs. I also told her I ate peanut butter every day, so she suggested trying almond butter instead. She also mentioned corn is becoming more of an issue with babies.

After two weeks of no dairy, soy, eggs, corn, peanuts or coconut (my own hunch), diapers started turning yellow again. Hallelujah!

The celebration was short-lived. I introduced some of those items, all except dairy and soy, back to my diet, and the nasty green poo returned.

So I cut them all again. It didn't work this time. Except for three random days after Thanksgiving when he had beautiful, seedy, mustard yellow, perfect-looking breast-fed-baby poop again. The only thing I had done differently leading up to that time was I had no wine or beer.

I also started being suspicious of strawberries, tomatoes, grapes...

Dairy and soy are in a lot of food (there is soy in the gum brand we chew), but corn is in everything, guys. Corn syrup, cornstarch, corn oil...did you realize baking powder is cornstarch?

All this nonsense was driving me insane. Not only was I hungry all the time, my physical and mental health were starting to take a turn. Crazy diets can mess with your flora, man!

Changing Emmett's diapers filled me with dread. Sometimes I would tell myself the poop looked yellow, only to have my balloon of hope popped when I'd ask Rolin what color it was and he'd say, "green!"

Two-year-olds don't lie when it comes to color-coding poop.

Some days were filled with tears which welled up out of frustration, confusion, obsession, terror, anger, doubt, feelings of failure/poor parenting, empty hope...

Overall, Emmett is a growing, thriving baby. His reactions could be worse (Google image search it, if ye doubt the claim). He only had a couple eczema spots (Rolin had many) and he was generally happy (but boy, can he scream). His spit up was never projectile, though there was quite a bit of it.

We made several trips to the doctor, who had a child of her own with cow's milk, soy and corn allergies, so I trust her assessment in this situation. She said she would support me continuing to breast feed or to move to formula. That may make a sane person feel better, but it was around Christmas time my mama heart could take no more of the nasty poops. I was fearful, nervous, obsessive, getting more gray hair and, most of all, joyless.

This situation was robbing me of my ability to experience and appreciate the joy surrounding me: my two beautiful, smart, growing, curious, amazing boys. I would have to almost daily look in the mirror and tell myself to snap out of the funk I was in; to put on a smile and go be silly with my 2-year-old; to believe Emmett was going to be ok and go scoop him up and kiss him all over because he is mine and I can, and should, do that instead of being afraid to love him wholeheartedly because I was terrified I was slowly killing him. I've been in a bad place. The past five months had flown by and all I can really remember about them is green poop. That's no way to live life.

Two weeks ago, after he had about nine water-like green poos in one day, followed by a day of bloody poo, I knew it was time to do formula.

Another reason I was dreading formula was because the transition with Rolin was awful. Rolin thought we were trying to kill him. Joe and Brianna were visiting that weekend and can attest to the terribleness of it. We tried sippy cups, spoons, syringes, real cups, several different brands of bottles...he simply would not drink it, not to mention I became super engorged and uncomfortable for about two weeks. But, in the end, Rolin drank it and my boobs recovered. All was fine; Rolin was even allergy-free by 15-months-old.

Emmett is now on Alimentum, the liquid kind because that's the only corn-free formula. His poops look a lot better now, which is the overall goal. He fussed a little at the first bottle and denied the second bottle until it was mixed with breast milk. By the forth bottle he was flapping his arms in hungry excitement at the sight of a bottle of straight formula; he hasn't given breast milk a second thought since. Whaaaat??

Yep, he hardly batted an eye. Weaning has been a lot easier on me this time too, which is a huge relief. Now I just need to come up with $11 extra a day for the next six months to feed the kid (insurance denied our request because Emmett is gaining weight. Another story for another time).

I could go on about this -- it was for five months, after all -- but I'll stop here. Many of my acquaintances and relations are tired of hearing about this, I'm sure, but I thank them for their listening, patience and support!!

From November -- already two months ago! 

Embracing the moment. Picture taken at post time.

Band-Aid!

Rolin got a hold of my phone one Saturday morning. He apparently figured out how to take a video, so he thought he'd share his Band-Aid with the world:

January so far

January has been busy so far, and I didn't really expect it to be so. That's better than boring, right?

Rolin had a really runny nose for about three weeks -- I mean really runny. We'd wipe it, turn around to throw away the tissue and then within seconds it'd be running past his chin again. I tried to pretend it was no biggie for a while, but when it showed no sign of clearing up, and he spiked a 101+ fever for a few days, we went to the doc. I had my suspicions of a sinus infection, and the doc agreed. I went home with a prescription for amoxicillin...Rolin barfed up the first dose -- I mean really barfed it and all of his lunch. Wheee! 

The next day his nose stopped running. Hummm. Would it have cleared up on it's own the next day anyway? Probably, considering my luck.

The rest of the dots are hard to see on his torso and legs, but they're there :(

Anyway, a few days later he started getting red spots on his torso, then legs and then his face. I asked a couple friends and my neighbor for their thoughts and expert parent thoughts, and then called the doc to see what they thought. By the time we went to the doc his "rash" was all over his body. It didn't appear to bother him and he was acting normal, but the poor thing had red blotches and dots all over :( We stopped the medicine and gave him some Benedryl, which seemed to help clear things up in about three days. He more than likely has an allergy to amoxicillin/penicillin. I also suspect roseola. But I'm no doctor.

He's fine now!

I've also been to a doctor or two myself because my body is building another baby! Yes, I'm pregnant; about three months along. Holy moley!

Best BIG Brother Ever, it should say... couldn't find a shirt that just said Big Brother. 

"B2T2" about 12.5 weeks baked.

This new little peanut is due July 27. For those of you who need a reminder, Rolin's birthday is July 24; our wedding anniversary is July 26; Joe and Brianna's anniversary is July 23; two other family birthdays are July 22. We always thought it would be nice to space our children about two years apart, but we did not intentionally plan them to be exactly two years apart! Nor did I really intend on spending another Christmas season laid up on the couch with the first-trimester ickies. All the same, I'd do it again, of course. I mean, look at that adorable profile:

All in all, this pregnancy has felt much the same as the first. I've been starving out of my mind, felt blergy from the moment I woke up until about 1 p.m. and I lacked energy or desire to do much of anything. Thank goodness for "Dinosaur Train," granola bars, apples & cheese, Costco trail mix and a husband who is happy to help. I'm in the second trimester now and things are much better. It really is almost like flipping a switch...I'm still hungry most of the time, but feel much better and have a bit more energy. 

In more doctor-related news, some of our friends in California have also seen their fair share of doctors after a series the triple Bs: blood clots, back surgeries and babies. After a long period of extreme back pain, our friend ended up in the hospital with blood clots; just days later, the need for emergency back surgery became apparent. A few days into recovery, his wife found herself in labor and soon delivered a precious baby boy. There has since been a second round of back surgery, and the recovery continues.

Team Thompson against painful and troublesome backs.

via

For their family, it's been a scary, emotional and trying time -- but it has been accompanied by the elation and pure joy a new baby brings a family. We thank God for watching over our friends and for his continued healing. We thank all of you who joined us in praying for their family, too!

In other January news, Rolin had his first haircut. If it were up to me we would have waited another couple months or so to cut it, but others beside just Justin thought it was looking a little shaggy. It was just hard to say ok to cutting off his baby curls!

Flowing locks.

Justin we tried to give him one at home, but we didn't have any hair scissors to give it a finished look (plus, it was a bit crooked, but that's just my opinion):

Then we ended up at a kids' hair cutting salon to make it look a little better:

Afterward, Rolin had his very first ice-cream cone that was all his own. He's had ice cream before, but never his own cone to eat by himself:

He looks like such a big kid with his new 'do.

Eating the entire cone himself proved to be a bit much as he vomited half of it up after gulping down a cup of milk at dinner. Ha! Gross.

As for the rest of January, we look forward to welcoming a lot of family visitors! Some are now in the vicinity in their motorhome, others are coming at the end of the month. Then my mom and dad come in early February. We're going to host a Super Bowl party at our house for everyone because the Seahawks made it! I can't wait to see everyone, even if it's really the 77 degree weather in Phoenix that was more of a reason for their a vacations than the Thompsons ;) (just kidding!). 

Tear ducts

As I mentioned in my last post, Rolin had a surgical procedure Friday to open his tear ducts. Things went fine and he seems just about back to normal today. 

In the prep room, wearing his "one size fits none" hospital gown. They even gave him little hospital socks with the grippers on the bottom.

Poor baby didn't know what was coming.

We had to check in at 6 a.m. and were there until about 10:30 a.m. or so. We stayed about an hour and a half longer than expected as he had a rougher than expected recovery from the anesthesia. I wouldn't have been able to tell you that on my own, but the nurses and doctors kept saying so. 

I know everyone's prayers helped with our nerves -- I felt just fine the whole time. Tears were shed though: mostly tears of joy that it worked and he woke up, but they were mixed with a little sadness for how mad, sad and completely out of it Rolly was in recovery, and how hard it was to get him to calm down at first. Plus, it was sad seeing blood in his tears and coming from his nose. 

Snuggles were about all that helped. 

I also had an unfortunate snot-string incident happen when the ophthalmologist came to chat with us again... I said, "oh I'm fine..." [wipe nose with hand...something comes away with hand...doctor and husband give  me a 'ew, gross' look...someone hands me a tissue]. But I suppose I'm not the first mom he's seen in that situation. At least I'd like to think that. 

I was pleasantly pleased with the way the ophthalmologist, anesthesiologist and the recovery room nurses kept coming by to check on him and explain things to us. He had to wear an oxygen mask on and off for a while to get numbers back up to a good level. Things were looking ok so we thought we'd go, but then the nurse asked if I was sure about three times, which made me think I wasn't, so we stayed longer. I'm glad we did. After another 20 mins or so, his numbers were even better and he stayed awake on his own for about five minutes. By that time you could tell the nurses felt better about his status, which, of course, made me feel a lot more comfortable going home. 

He slept most of the day away, ate a little bit and played a little before bedtime. On top of all his daytime sleep, he slept from 8:30 p.m. to 5:22 a.m. in his room. Tired babe! He still has some blood-tinged boogs and tears today, but he really seems back to his normal, active self. 

Snuggled with the bear the hospital gave him. He carried it around and hugged it all day. So sweet!

Couch cuddles are uncommon since he's usually on the move, so we enjoyed a day of snuggles with the little bug. 

What they did: They put little tubes in both of his ducts that go down into his nose. The tubes poke through the membrane in the duct that was either completely blocking the duct or was just making it a tight squeeze for the eye goop and tears to drain properly (so he had a goopy, crusty eye most of the time). They'll either work their way out or be taken out in three months. Hopefully that does the trick and we don't have to go back in to try again or try something different. 

When we were there, we met a family with a 14-mo-old boy. This was his eighth surgery. Eighth! The sweet little love. He was born with Spina Bifida, something they didn't know until he was born. They were in good spirits, considering, and were joking a bit about how on top of everything, their baby had bad tear ducts too. I wish we could have chatted with them more -- they seemed like a strong, kind couple. 

Milk!

Guess what! We had Rolin tested and discovered he is a 0 on a scale of 0-10 allergic level to milk protein! Yahoo! Praise God!

I'm both ashamed and proud to say we chose mac n' cheese as his first milk meal. He wasn't very in to it...I think because of the noodles. The last time he ate noodles willingly was the night before he woke up with diarrhea :(

It wasn't any trouble at all to switch him from almond milk to dairy. I think he likes milk more than anything right now, especially because he's teething and not the biggest fan of chewing.

We're easing into other milk products -- he'll eat yogurt like it's going out of style, but isn't a huge cheese fan. Either way, now that he can have dairy there are many more options for meals, and we don't have to pack a meal for when we're going out to eat or we might be running errands into the lunch hour (although I still haven't stopped doing that...it's a hard habit to break).

We'd like to ask that you keep our little bug in your prayers this week as he's having surgery Friday. He's had a clogged tear duct since before he was born and it just isn't opening on it's own. We started visiting doctors and getting ready to schedule the surgery before we even heard the word Arizona, but because of the timeline and our move south, we had to start over once we got to Arizona with a new ophthalmologist.

He'll be under anesthesia for 20-30 mins and we'll get to leave the hospital the same day. It's really more of a procedure, I suppose... and I'm doing my best not to be nervous about it, even though I have a good reason to be nervous. I had the same procedure done when I was 6-months old and had to be resuscitated. So. There's that. However, I trust the doctors, and they have confidence in the anesthesiologist at the hospital.

They say he'll have a bit of a bloody nose after, but that should be the worst of it. I'm sure he'll have a nice ice cream treat after dinner Friday night.

Knees

Someone asked me the other day if I played basketball in high school.

"Pahaha. No," I said. "I believe that requires you to both dribble and walk quickly at the same time."

Justin was nearby, chuckling in the background.

"I did a basketball camp in 4th grade. While dribbling, I tripped, fell and got a gym-floor burn on my knee, and that was the end of that," I continued.

Grace, agility and coordination don't come naturally to me. I did play soccer...though I think I made the team because I would generally show up to practice on time...not because I was good. It was probably a benefit to my team my senior year when, during the first game, I collided with No. 10 from Wapato. The impact resulted in a severed ACL. I was out for the remainder of the season.

I also played tennis; I think I did ok there. I did, however, botch my chances of qualifying for state in doubles my senior year because I thought it'd be a good idea to smack the ball as hard as possible, while playing in the forward position, to the other side of the net. Instead, I smacked it into our side of the net. Twice. In a row. Disqualified.

I played singles too, but I was afraid of Becca from Connell. She had a wicked fast serve and backhand. But that's another story for another time.

The point of this post is to tell you I fell earlier this week. While walking. Walking where I walk every day. Ok, walking where I walk when I actually leave the house (which isn't every day).

I had a baby in a car seat on one arm, and a baby diaper bag on the other. I was also clutching in my teeth the registration for the car, which I finally remembered to grab on my way out the door. I walked to the edge of the parking lot, stepped off the path and suddenly found myself on the ground. I had stepped off in the wrong spot where it's steeper and didn't stop my other foot before it was too late.

I landed hard on one knee, yet managed to keep the baby from flying. Thank goodness he was already strapped in the car seat! I popped up as quickly as I fell and pretended like nothing happened. Just in case anyone was watching, you know, because that would be embarrassing...

Ugh, I hate it when I do that.

As soon as I got to the car, I told myself I was a dummy for not just sitting there and making sure Rolin was ok and that I wasn't bleeding out anywhere.

Rolly was fine. It scared him briefly, but I think in the end he laughed at me.

My jeans and knee, on the other hand, were not fine. Both were ripped and blood stained.

It seems all the cool kids wear ripped jeans these days, though, so I should be fine there.

The funny thing is, I did the same thing last year around this time. Just walking where I usually walk. Somehow, pregnant Christine tripped on a step and landed hard on one knee, yet managed to keep her baby bump out of the danger zone. Maternity jeans, as you may know, are made from some pretty hardy denim so I didn't rip those pants; I just ripped my knee.

All this knee-scraping talk reminds me of one of my first double-knee scraping incidents. I was probably 4 years old or so, walking down the sidewalk at Nanny's house -- just walking on a flat surface -- when WHAM!, down falls little Christine. Both knees and palms were [badly] scraped. I was with the Rabe clan that day so Aunt Kathy helped clean me up and get me bandaged before we went back to my parents' house. I remember asking Uncle Lou to drive slowly because going over bumps made my boo-boos hurt worse.

Sad story, huh. ;)

I'm not going to post a picture of my current knee injury. I'll leave you with a previous injury instead:

Update

Happy Friday, everyone!

Rolin has been on formula for two weeks. There is still, on occasion, blood in his poo. Overall it's looking better, but it was the recurrence of blood Wednesday night that prompted us to call and schedule an appointment with the pediatric GI specialist. 

(The one our pediatrician's office said not to contact for 3-4 weeks because, "I don't want you to waste your time.")

We just got back from the specialist, and I'm so glad we went. I'm also fuming mad. Not at the specialist, but with the pediatrician.

This was definitely not a waste of my time.

Everyone. EVERYONE, except the pediatrician's staff, has cringed and shaken their head when we relay the tale of how we were told breastfeeding is no longer an option. 

What's happening now is ok. She broke down a lot of information for us concerning the proteins, how they're processed in his body, the differences in formula and how, perhaps most importantly, THERE WERE OTHER OPTIONS to consider before putting him on formula only... 

If I hadn't hopped back on the cheese train already, returning to breastfeeding would still have been an option too...I'm not sure we would have gone that route at this point though -- as I've said to many of you, formula was the decision we moved forward with when a decision had to be made. It was hard enough to make a decision in the first place. Rolin could also be intolerant to more than just cow's milk. The GI (or a lactation consultant or maybe another doctor) would have had me try different diet eliminations on top of that, including soy, nuts, eggs and wheat, to see what could have been triggering this reaction in the first place.  

There does come a point, however, when momma has to be getting enough nutrition in order to produce decent breast milk, so if it were more than one intolerance/allergy, he'd probably have gone on formula anyway. 

BUT to be told breastfeeding was no longer an option by THE BABY'S DOCTOR...infuriating.

In addition, I went to see the lactation consultant last Tuesday, a decision the GI was glad to hear. The nurse I met with was very kind and heard me and my frustrations out. Of course they're all about breastfeeding there, but I wasn't made to feel [any more] guilty for quitting at 6 months, and she gave me a nice list of other things we would have considered if I'd come in earlier/things to keep in mind for next time. These include a hindmilk/foremilk imbalance (which I was suspicious of, come to think of it), the mini pill, a bug he was fighting or another allergen. She also said it wasn't necessary to stop breastfeeding, but was supportive of the decision we'd made and how we'd handled the situation with the info we were given at the time.

And there you have it. We'll start some solids tomorrow...I think we'll skip cereal and start with avocado and then other orange/yellow veggies before moving to fruits. I'm sure there will be plenty of pictures of that excitement!

In other news, we had a wonderful trip to California this week. It was refreshment for the soul! We were there Monday - Thursday, and Rolin did excellent on the planes. More on that soon!

We'll leave you with this: 

Rolly played dress up at the doctor today. Toga!

8 weeks and 5 years

When did it get to be the middle oh September? I have almost no recollection of August...those days flew by in a blur of poopy diapers and feeling like a dairy cow. The middle of September always sneaks up on me, new infant in the house or not...

Sept. 18th marked five years since Matt died. I think of Matt every day, though the last couple years it's only dawned on me that it's Sept. 17-18 (it was the 17th in the US, the 18th in Iraq) when I see that someone updated their Facebook image to a picture of a "Matt-tat" they inked on their arm, or when sweet friends and family reach out to let us know they're thinking of and praying for our family this week -- thank you to all of you! Your love and appreciation mean so much.

It's hard to believe it has been five years since we learned he had died. So much has happened since then. So much. Again, I think of Matt daily, but when this time of year rolls around I can still recall all the emotion of that day and the weeks that followed, including the literal, tight heartache that camped deep in my chest for months afterward.

Though the initial pain of loss has subsided a bit over the years, I think that the Lord still sneaks in the realization it's this time of year again as a means of emotional and heart protection; a blessing that's most definitely a result of the prayers you've said for us. Thank you!

Whew, that all came out unexpectedly, but it's my blog so I write what I want :)

Now, prepare yourself for the the most segue-less transition you'll read today...possibly ever.

Or is it transition-less segue? Segue-less segue? Either way:

Rolin is eight weeks old!

All about Rolin:

• Hates, HATES! a wet diaper
• Finds things funny only once. Should you try to reproduce a moment that mere seconds earlier had produced a grin, R looks at you with a blank stare.
• Loves stretching and arching his back back so far he is practically upside down. Interrupt this stretching routine and you'll be sorry.
• Enjoys a long nap after breakfast.
• Sleeps through the night. Yahoo!
• Happier than a clam during bath time.
• Has nearly doubled his birth weight.
• Grows razor-sharp finger nails.
• Giggles in his sleep.
• Dances to "Call Me Maybe." (video coming soon)
• Has super sensitive skin like his mama :(
• Is the only one out of the three of us that is awoken by Justin's alarm...this is a problem.
• Has a new crop of "peach fuzz" up top.
• Is on the verge of smiling.  

Adios, amigo!

We parted with a good friend last month.

A friend that had seen Team Thompson through many adventures, countless movies, laughs, tears, good news, late night snacks, lazy weekends and panic attacks. This friend was also hospitable to strangers and friends alike, and stuck by our side through the five times we've moved in the last five years.

Though strings of insults were thrown its way, particularly around tax-return season or any time we moved, this friend remained a constant in our lives.

You could say this friend has been there through sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer.

This friend was our couch.

Our OLD couch, that is.

Old Couchy in San Jose

WE GOT A NEW COUCH!

The crew loading a few of the boxes into Justin's work rig. 

Old Couchy was a truly heavy beast, complete with a hide-a-bed. We have reason to believe it had invisible lead bricks sewn into its cushions. Justin absolutely despised that couch, but, really, only when we had to move it.

I inherited Old Couchy from friends Sarah and Eric when I lived with Tara & Ami in Seattle's Fremont neighborhood. Eric and Justin moved it into my old apartment, destroying only one and a half exit signs and scraping the stairway walls along the way. Upon setting it down, Justin proclaimed, "When you move out, this thing is staying here!"

Luckily Joe was in town when we decided to get the new couch.

Then Justin and I got married a while later and, upon reviewing our finances, decided to move the couch into our new apartment in Lake Forest Park. My dad and bro Joe helped with that move. Upon setting it down in the new place, Justin proclaimed, "When we move out, this thing is staying here!"

OK, one of the main reasons we got the new couch was because Joe was in town.

Then we learned we were moving to California. Old Couchy stayed in LFP while we lived in my parents' RV in CA while waiting out our LFP lease to be up and trying to save money for a new place in CA. After getting all our ducks in a row and finding an apartment in Mountain View, CA, we reviewed our finances and decided to bring Old Couchy to CA. My bro Joe also helped with that move, both out of the apartment in WA and into our new home in CA. Old Couchy smashed only one finger along the way. Upon setting the couch down in CA, Justin proclaimed, "When we move out, this thing is staying here!"

It takes a lot of muscle and stamina to move Old Couchy.

From Mountain View we moved to San Jose where our rent was a bit higher. Upon reviewing our finances, we decided to bring Old Couchy with us to the South Bay. We had a crew of friends help with that move, but still, upon setting down the couch, Justin proclaimed, "When we move out, this thing is staying here!"

Not exactly sure what to do with the old while bringing in the new, we moved the beast out on to the porch.

Soon after we got settled into our place in San Jose, we received our tax return. Upon reviewing our finances, we decided to see about getting a new couch. It was also the weekend Justin's brother came to visit. We spent the better part of Saturday testing out new couches....leather couches, microfiber couches, couches with ottomans, couches in the shape of an L.

We came home with new TV instead.

In no time at all, the neighbors expressed interest, and Old Couchy had a new home. 

As you know, we recently moved again...this time back to WA. A professional crew of movers packed up and transported our belongings this time, so while Old Couchy skirted ridicule during this latest move, Justin still looked at the couch with hatred that burns with the heat of a thousand suns. When it came time to arrange the living room, Justin proclaimed, "This is the last time I want to move this couch!"

So he began plotting. Plotting ways to convince me it was time to part with Old Couchy. "We'll have more visitors now so we'll need more places to sit." "See how it dips down in the middle?" "See how it slides so easily on the wood floor?" "Don't you think a darker colored couch with a different fabric would make for easier baby barf clean up?" "You hate this couch, too, don't you? DON'T YOU?!"

The weekend Joe my bro came to town, and after MUCH discussion as to whether or not it was the right time, we went to Coscto and purchased a new couch.

New couch!

We weren't sure what we'd do with Old Couchy, but as Joe and Justin moved the beast out to the porch -- not without much moaning, groaning and calling of names -- the neighbors walked by.

The neighbors are now the proud new owners of Old Couchy.

I'll miss Old Couchy. As I said, it's seen Team Thompson through a lot of adventures, but change is good.
And so is a new place to rest our weary rears.

The knee bone's connected to...

Several years before I was even a twinkle in his eye, my dear dad was in a boating accident. Having heard the details a few times, I have a good idea of what happened, but since I wasn’t there and the specifics are a bit gory, I’ll spare you most of the story, dear reader. 

It involved an inner tube, a rocky & steep incline and a bend in the river. Dad was more or less launched from the tube and rolled up the incline, into a fence and rolled back down. As you can imagine, it ended in a tangled mess including several broken bones, allowing for legs to be in places they don’t naturally bend or reach. 

Thank God he covered his head as he rolled or things could have been much worse.

Dad recovered for three months in the hospital, I believe, and his claim to fame when he was out was that for the year or so he was on crutches, he was able to walk through a cafeteria line on crutches AND carry a tray full of food at the same time. See, you can do anything when you put your mind to it!

I’ve only known my dad to have lots of scars up and down his legs and into his hip/back area; scars I used to think/pretend were train tracks for itty bitty trains. His left knee, in particular, has always been more bothersome than the other. The knee itself is rather large compared to the other…our family actually calls it “cauliflower knee.” It’s essentially bone-on-bone and it slips and pops from time to time, which startles/hurts him and scares me. I hate it when his knee hurts…it makes my tummy hurt!

With the exception of a few surgeries here and there, not to mention bouts of accompanying staph infection, not much has been done to the knee over the years. However, Dad finally opted for a total knee replacement! He wanted to put it off as long as possible so he wouldn’t have to face multiple replacements over time.

Because of his history of staph, he had to be checked by the CDC before they scheduled a replacement. When he got the all-clear, dad made his replacement appointment with Dr. Roux…the same doctor who preformed my ACL replacement about 11 years ago!

Dad is home and recovering now. Though his entire leg is much more swollen and painful than expected – we hear there was some hammering involved because of how bad of shape the knee area was – things seem to be healing well!

Mom snapped this picture of the x-ray comparison at a recent appointment.  

His new knee is on the left, with the old on the right. It doesn't even really look like a knee, does it? It kind of looks like the old knee had its own brain, I think! 

Thanks to all who prayed for skilled doctors, a safe surgery and a swift recovery!!

Now....if you get queasy, DO NOT SCROLL DOWN. 

Seriously.... don't do it. I want you to read the blog again, so forgive me if you are queasy and you do see the following picture. But again, this is your warning. 

Dad's knee a week after surgery. Looking better!! See those train track scars I mentioned earlier :) If you really want a good look, click on the picture for a larger image!

The Emersons know the way to San Jose

As luck would have it, Dad was approached and recruited by a new bank in early December, providing him with a lovely Christmas holiday vacation between jobs! Having found themselves with heaps of unexpected vacation time on their hands, mom and dad booked themselves a quick trip down to see Team Thompson!

They arrived the Tuesday after Christmas. That evening, we went to dinner at Frankie, Johnnie & Luigi, too in Mountain View. In case you were wondering, I had the Mostacioli di Bari, Justin had the Spaghetti with meatballs and mushrooms, mom had Fettuccine Prawns Portofino and dad had a what is now listed on the menu as Tortellini & Scallops alla Vodka, though his dish was spaghetti and shrimp alla vodka.

While Justin and I were working Wednesday, mom and dad prepared a second Christmas dinner for us to come home to, complete with filet mignon and crab cocktail, a mandated Evans family Christmas meal component. After dinner we opened a few gifts, ate more fudge and enjoyed each others company.

Justin unfortunately had to work Thursday while mom, dad and I took a drive down the coast to Monterey, with a goal to see the RCI/Worldmark timeshare resort. We'll save you the time of checking it out for yourselves...it's nothing to write home about, at least compared to the Eagle Crest resort near Bend, Ore. That one holds a special place in the Emerson family's hearts.

While in the Monterey area, we sought out the Giant Artichoke at the Giant Artichoke Restaurant in Castroville, attempted to drive through Cannery Row in Monterey while every school-aged child and their parent were walking through Cannery Row, and also decided to see what the famed 17-Mile Drive scenic route was all about.

Yep, I bought a shirt to prove I've been to the Giant Artichoke!

As it turns out, the 17-Mile Drive was the definite highlight of our drive. The trail, which requires a $9.50 entry fee, weaves along the coastline to the Pebble Beach Resort, home of the Pebble Beach Golf Links. Along the route are scenic markers and points of interest, as well as beautiful, outrageous and ludicrously humongous homes. Here's a description of the drive from the Pebble Beach Resorts site:

17-Mile Drive is widely recognized as one of the most scenic drives in the world. The famous coastal landmark runs through Pacific Grove to Pebble Beach, from the dramatic Pacific coastline to the majestic Del Monte Forest. The awe-inspiring vistas and legendary sites can easily fill an entire day with exploration and discovery, although visitors with less time should not miss the opportunity to experience this wondrous journey as well.

Marvel at some of nature’s treasures found along 17-Mile Drive including The Lone Cypress – one of California’s best-known landmarks – Spanish Bay, Cypress Point Lookout and Carmel Bay. You can also see the emerald fairways of The Links at Spanish Bay, Spyglass Hill and the world-renowned Pebble Beach Golf Links.

Despite the wind, it was a gorgeous day on the coast, making for many Kodak moments. We finished the drive with lunch at a resort cafe and a quick walk through the grounds, fancy shops and the Lodge. Mom and dad even got a picture on one of course holes, right where many famous golfers and celebrities have stood themselves.

Look closely for the sunbathing seals!

Just one of the many mansions overlooking Pebble Beach.

The "Lone Cypress" is the official logo/icon of Pebble Beach.

Thursday night we ate at home and watched the Stanford Cardinal women's basketball team beat UConn, the first game the UConn team has lost in more than 90 games. We also ate more fudge and watched those darn Huskies win against Nebraska in the Holiday Bowl.

We met mom and dad at their hotel for breakfast Friday before they left for the airport. Saying goodbye to our guests is never easy, especially when it's parents. It's so great to see both mom and dad in great shape after their surgeries -- it's amazing to think of what they've both been through in just the last year and to then watch them power-walking the Pebble Beach Golf Links like spring chickens.

It was especially wonderful to see dad because the last time I saw him, I was taking his temperature, administering a 1/2 cup of pills at regular intervals, and making sure he practiced his respiratory/breathing machine between pain-pill-induced napping episodes. Both mom and dad had their own struggles during recovery, from poor appetites to severe heartburn and leg infections, but their recoveries have been a success and they're here today with spanking new pipes in their tickers. We are so blessed!