Today Boeta’s Broviac is one day short of a year and 5 months old. Shocking and awesome and such a blessing. Ever since that horrible day when it was put in life became easier for Boeta. No more needles.
I’m doing this one in pictures again. Here goes.
The bath the night before. Carien displays her broken, fixed and broken again teeth. She is a rough one.
Boeta grins his photo grin. Every bath for the last 6 months (yes, he didn’t bath for almost a year after the Broviac was put in – I had to wipe him off with a washcloth) he had to take care to keep the dressings dry. This was the last time.
Boeta insisted on a “silly faces” photo. He looks pretty much the same to me! Carien on the other hand….
Wouter doing his “I am a male model” impression. Mufasa! 😀
Observe the subject in its natural habitat. Earphones on, remote in hand, watching infomercials. Boeta developed an infomercial habit in hospital and is constantly telling me about getting the Twister Pro at the Verimark store – NOW, Budget Insurance and his alltime favourite, the Aer-O-Space inflatable mattrass. Strange child, this one.
Observe the subject’s new hair. I feel so bad – initially his new hair was white and now it is becoming darker. I noticed a dark spot on his head a week ago and decided that it was either cradle cap (He is 5 years old! Shameful!) or dirt from playing in the sand. So I grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing. Imagine my surprise when the dirt wouldn’t come off and instead stood up in the air. Bad mommy! 😀
The Broviac in all its unbound glory. From his chest it goes up to his neck, into his jugular and then down towards, but not into, his heart. At the exit point the line was looped in flat coils 2 – 3 times and taped down and covered with Opsite Post-Op. The remaining end was then folded upwards and taped down with Tegaderm.
Closer. Note how the area that was covered up for 17 months is lighter than the surrounding areas. And he was never without a shirt in that time.
A perfect insertion site. No inflammation. Look at how dirty the clamp is. It has been collecting fluff for a long time and the holes are too small to fish it out.
Ready for theatre. He loves his new pajamas and to get him out of it I had to tell him that it might get wet when they remove the Broviac.
Tannie Sharon seeing us off.
If I had more bandwidth I would’ve uploaded a clip of Boeta after waking up. He was such a sight.
Before the operation Boeta and the surgeon, Dr Daniel Sidler, spent about 10 minutes talking. My favourite line was when Boeta told Daniel “My baby is a mistake. She kick me off the bed and I fall on the ground and I hit my head on the … (insert sound of heavy thinking) … kass! (kass pronounced like an American “pass” – he meant bedside table)*
Daniel has decided to take Boeta along on his next vacation. He recons he will have the most relaxing time ever with Boeta’s 5 year old bilinguality.
Boeta talked all the way to the theatre and as he was wheeled in he turned onto his tummy on the bed (to have a better look) and exclaimed “Wooooowwwww!” He was impressed. I am amazed at how willing he was. The last times that he had to go to theather – come to think of it, that was when the Broviac was put in – he was edgy and untrusting. Today I lifted him onto the small theater bed and he lay back and told me to hold his hand and to cover his eyes with my other hand. I’m not sure why I had to cover his eyes but I did and he was happy. The anaethetist was significantly confused when he approached with the oxygen monitor and Boeta immediately held out his finger without being told. Oncokids are a different breed altogether. Boeta went under so easily this time. I am very happy about it.
Not long afterwards Daniel came to tell us (Wouter came with) that all went well and spent some time chatting. I find it quite amazing that he remembers everything about the day he inserted the Broviac. He told us a bit about the background panic before the time. The doctors really didn’t think he would survive the surgery.
Boeta managed to confuse the recovery room sister even more than he did the anaethetist. Usually when children come to they cry. Not this one. He literally came to talking. He was asking for me and scolding them for making him wiggle (wikkel) and generally not shutting up for even a moment. He is so funny on Dormicum. He looks and acts like a heart sore drunk. He rants and raves and the next moment he cries pitifully before he goes aggro beast on an unsuspecting passerby who looked in his direction. I know I shouldn’t laugh but I did. And I have it all on video.
Less than an hour after he came out of surgery he was up and running around ward C, the oncology ward.
At home he and Carien built a mountain using couch cushions and started diving onto it from the naked couch. This with a hole in his jugular (it self-seals so he didn’t get stitches) and a hole in his chest (steri-stripped close). Be still my pounding heart!
*translation: My baby sister made a mistake. She kicked me off the bed and I fell on the floor and hit my head on the bedside table.