A Broken Heart

I took Jarrett to his annual cardiology appointment on Tuesday. He was so great! He had to have an ECG, which involved having stickers put all over his chest and then wires attached to the stickers. He held really still and did everything the nurse asked him to do. Then, he had to have an ultrasound of his heart done. He did really well with that, too: they turned on a video (Milo and Otis), and he reclined on the hospital bed while the technician took pictures and video of his heart.

The cardiologist joined us shortly after the second exam to tell us the results. He still has mitral valve regurgitation, which causes blood to flow the wrong direction--back into his left atrium. Consequently, his left atrium is slightly larger than a typical child's--but not alarmingly so. The valve in question has a cleft--basically like a clefted lip--and that's how the blood is being pushed back the wrong direction. The blood going the wrong direction is what causes Jarrett's heart to sound different--that's the noise they hear when they listen to his murmur.

Hopefully, that was somewhat clear. I can only write it as well as I understand it. The doctor gave me a diagram, which really helped me to get a grasp of it.

Anyway, he told me that this valve issue is not a problem right now. It's not slowing Jarrett down and he can still do all of his normal activities. However, it may 1) get better, 2) stay the same, or 3) get worse. We will really need to be aware of it in his teen years when he starts to be more active in sports (should he choose to do that). The doctor told me to make another appointment for a year from now.

As we walked down the hall to check out, I told Jarrett that I needed to make another appointment. He said, "Make appointment for Zeph?"

I said, "No. Another appointment for you. Zeph's heart is different than yours. He doesn't need an appointment."

On Monday and Tuesday (Oct. 1 and 2), I was doing a Sunday school training at the church; Dad came down to the Springs to babysit the boys while I was in class. Tuesday afternoon, after Jarrett's appointment, I got a phone call from Matt while sitting in class and ignored it, not wanting to be rude to the presenters. Then he texted me and said he'd had a call from the cardiologist and to call him back as soon as I could.

I excused myself and left the room to return Matt's call. I was really hoping that the cardiologist had called because I'd left something at the office, or had forgotten to sign a paper, or some trivial thing. I could think of no other reason it'd be urgent for me to get back to Matt, unless they'd discovered something wrong upon further study of Jarrett's test results.

I was pretty well braced then when Matt told me that the cardiologist had consulted with a colleague in Denver about Jarrett's results. He told me that they would like for Jarrett to undergo heart surgery before the end of the year to repair this clefted valve. That it's much better to fix it while he's young rather than waiting until a time when it could conceivably be "too late." Bypass surgery. A week in the hospital, most of that time in ICU.

I was sitting on the stairs in the church and just felt my heart sink even further down than the step I was on.

At the time, I dealt with it pretty well: sucked in a deep breath and started making plans with Matt to set up an appointment with the surgeon and to get the ball rolling. After a quick call to Mom to keep her informed, I went back to class and finished the rest of the workshop.

The emotional part for me seeps in slowly. I tend to keep things on an intellectual level as much as possible--there's a reason I like the main character on Bones so much! I started that night researching more online about Jarrett's particular condition. I also looked for resources on how to prepare a child for surgery.

The next night, we went to our healing prayer class at church and Marcella (our teacher) prayed for Jarrett by proxy: anointing Matt on Jarrett's behalf. She prayed for the surgery, that no mistakes be made, that Jarrett will heal well. She didn't pray what I wanted her to: that God would heal Jarrett Himself so that Jarrett doesn't have to go through the trauma of surgery. A couple of tears leaked while she prayed--my first.

I get the bulk of my quiet time when I'm feeding Zeph in the dark at night. That night, while rocking him, I cried some more.

I've been staying up til 1 or 2 most nights, researching as much as I can about mitral valve issues and pain management and the best hospitals/surgeons in the country and whatever else I can think of to prepare us for this.

We will meet with the surgeon on Thursday the 11th in the afternoon. I have pages of questions to ask, some I've printed from the Internet and some that are specific to our case. Matt's coworkers have been great--he had no trouble at all in finding a sub for that afternoon. While I wish our appointment were sooner, we got the soonest available and I'm so thankful for that. I feel like I'm on pins and needles until we actually get to sit down and talk with the surgeon.

My thoughts keep changing as my head wraps around this--I equate it a bit to the stages one goes through when dealing with grief, except I'm jumping around and skipping stages. Right now, I'm just hoping that when we go in and review the case with the surgeon, he will tell us that the cardiologist was a bit overzealous and that this is not really a surgery that Jarrett needs.

Until then, though, I'm still trying to go through our normal routine: playing with the boys, doing Disney Family Movie Night and just enjoying the season. Every moment seems so much more precious now than it did just a week ago...

Once we meet with the surgeon, we will know so much more. I think the hardest part is not knowing exactly the whats and whens. Getting some answers will help so much! Until Thursday, we're just trying to keep things normal: preparing a Sunday school lesson, Matt's grading papers, the boys are playing and growing happily. We'll wait and see what happens...