12/28/2009
by Michael Wells Sunday night started out rather interesting but ended quite well. Sherrie went home for the night and I had the “watch.” It’s amusing that the oddest events seem to occur when I’m alone with Brady. Anyway, Brady was napping for about an hour and woke up around 7:30pm and as I was giving him one of his meds he felt very warm and decided to vomit on me; just lovely. However by now I am the King of Vomit and within minutes I had everything under control without the help of anyone. For some reason no one answered my call button and this concerned me, so after I had Brady and his crib cleaned and changed I decided to find a nurse. The problem was they were all busy with other patients everyone except a “floater” from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). She responded to my request to have Brady temperature taken and this is where the fun began. The very first thing she asks me is how old my daughter is? I tell her 31 but she is not the one needing attention it’s my son. She then asks me if I would like her to take Brady temperature using a rectal thermometer. Now, anyone in nursing for than a week should know that babies on chemotherapy never and I mean never have anything placed inside them that can cause bleeding; especially where it can lead to infection and cause all sorts of trouble. Well, this was my breaking point and I sort of snapped. I think I asked; “what are you some kind of a freak’n idiot?” Then I proceeded to ask her to leave quickly it a rather abrupt manner and to this request she responded rather quickly. Once our regular nurse (Mary) arrived and settled things (me) down she took Brady’s temperature (the correct way) and unfortunately it registered 102.3°. This is something we were all hoping to avoid but after some Tylenol and a little sleep, Brady woke up this morning with a normal temperature. Don’t know why his temperature spiked but blood cultures were taken and I’m sure we’ll get the results some time today. For the rest of Monday Brady and I played and played. He’s learning several new words and sounds ranging from saying his own name to pointing to various parts of his body as I would call them out. He can also makes the sounds of numerous animals; everything from a cow to a pig. Of course, when I want him to perform in front of anyone he develops an immediate stage fright. One of my coworkers gave his 3 soft play Boston Red Sox balls for Christmas and I must say we’re having a blast with them. I throw them in his crib and he drops them out of it and laughs like mad every time. I think he’s going to be a southpaw, thank you Kaycee and look out Yankees there’s a new Sox pitcher on the horizon. Well he’s waking up from his nap, so until next time – continue praying, hugging and thinking of Brady…“8 Years Later—Still No Cure for Pediatric Cancer” is a series of posts revisiting the journal kept by Sherrie and Michael Wells during the cancer diagnosis and treatment of their son, Brady Michael. Hopefully these entires will provide an understanding of the journey families face when dealing with these horrific diseases and of the important work the Hugs for Brady Foundation does.