So the heart challenge was completed shortly after I last posted. This involved a surgeon, doctor and cardiologist pushing lots of buttons, speaking in code and rolling echocardiogram wands over Albie’s heart. At the end of it, the cardiologist told us to gather ’round so she could debrief us on the results. There’s a lot to get across here, but I’ll try to put it so you as simply as I can.
The first thing to note – you might say ‘the bad news’ – is that Albie’s heart is still “severely dysfunctional.” However, it is less “severely dysfunctional” than 3 days ago, which is a positive sign. This was mirrored by the cardiologist when she told us that she was not discouraged with his progress. She also relayed that children with severely dysfunctional hearts may still be able to function with the assistance of medication.
For now though, the staff want to give Albie more time to make some headway at his own rate. As per my previous post, the plan is still to progressively draw him off life support, while progressively phasing in his own ticker. Some more positive news is that the surgeon is chuffed with the results of Albie’s Rastelli operation. Both he and the cardiologist told us all (independent from one another) that they were ‘cautiously optimistic’ about Albie’s ability to improve over the next period of time – but again, the signal is that this is likely to be weeks or months… not days.
The next milestone we are currently awaiting is likely to come on monday, so there is unlikely to be much in the way of change between now and then. If I don’t post anything tomorrow, please take that as a sign that everything is “normal” here and that Albie is stable and safe as he has been since Wednesday afternoon.
I’ll leave you all with a personal moment if I may. You can imagine that emotions are running fairly high around these parts, but you should all know that its not a constant state of gloom and sorrow. There are moments of joy and laughter, there are millions of hugs and kisses, and there are moments of extreme hope and promise. While holding Albie’s hand this morning – a pastime I have practiced for hours on end for the last few days – I was so overcome with hope when he squeezed back for a few brief moments. In the haze of a mighty cocktail of medication, and despite his reliance on astoundingly sophisticated machinery, Albie continues to remind us that he’s fighting to come back to us.