It's been a "FU CF, you suck" kind of week

There is nothing fun or cool or lucky about having CF. It's a daily battle for control over your body. And just when you think you have your child's CF down pat and there can be no surprises that you aren't semi-prepared for, CF says "haha think again baby! Here's a new one for ya!"

The past 4 days have been just that.

This is how we started out our week....in the ER per our CF doctors orders. I called him because Zach had been experiencing severe stomach pain and was vomiting and nauseous and wasn't able to poop. Now your asking "why take him to the ER for something that sounds like a stomach bug?". Well I could have brushed it aside as the bug if it was just the stomach pain and nausea and vomiting. But when my 3 time a day (at least) pooper tells me he hasn't pooped in 24 hours, then I know something is definitely not right. 

People with CF can be pancreatic insufficient (PI). What does that mean? It means that the ducts coming from their pancreas are so clogged up with mucus that the enzymes that are produced there to digest food don't get out to do their job. This tends to cause diarrhea and malabsorption. Zach is severely PI, if he doesn't take his Creon (a digestive enzyme pill) he has bad diarrhea and his stomach will hurt. So not pooping in 24 hours is a HUGE deal. 

So we get to the ER and they have been told we are on the way so they are prepared for us. The head ER doctor in the Children's ER was fantastic. He ordered a slew of test; belly and chest x-rays, blood work, Ultrasound; overkill you say....well when dealing with a CF patient you don't just assume it's the stomach bug, you exhaust all possibilities to be on the safe side.  

So as the test results start coming in we are checking off the possiblities:

Chest x-ray:no evidence of pneumonia

(these are some fairly decent CF lungs)

Blood work: not showing any signs of infection

Ultrasound: small cyst on pancreas and sludge in gallbladder....hmmm maybe this is the problem

Belly x-ray: large amount of stool in bowels....hmmm maybe this is the problem 

(this x-ray shows the back up of fecal matter)

There are so many things that CF can do to a body. We've dealt with the chronic respiratory infections, Pseudomonas, MRSA colonization in his lungs, nasal polyps that require surgery. We've got a handle on the malabsoprtion and failure to thrive is a thing of the past thanks to the G-tube. These things have just become second nature to us.

What we haven't dealt with is the other end of the digestive spectrum....constipation and a fun thing called DIOS. 

Distal Intestinal Obstructive Syndrome (DIOS) is when there is an obstruction at the point where the large intestine meets the small intestine. This point in the intestines is a very small hole and normally when fecal matter passes through it is liquid. If even the smallest of hard poop gets stuck above that point it can cause a blockage. And this is what CF decided it was time to throw at us. YAY SO MUCH FUN.

With a diagnosis of DIOS and an exacerbation of it, comes the fun of a bowel clean out. What is that you ask? Oh let me tell you about the joys of a "clean out"......

First, the patient is told no food or drink until your cleaned out. What does that mean? YOU HAVE TO POOP CLEAR LIQUID! 

Then you are given this wonderful fluid called GoLYTELY. They can give you this 1 of 3 ways...drink, via nasogastric tube or if your lucky enough to have a g-tube through that. Zach is lucky enough to have a g-tube so he got to get it that way. This is a HUGE jug of miralax type fluid that they give you slowly (start at 40mL/hour and work up to 300mL/hour) to get things moving...it can take MANY of these jugs to get the job done.

(the jug of GoLYTELY)

So here we are Monday night, hooked up to this fluid through his g-tube and and IV to keep him hydrated. He hasn't eaten since 6pm Sunday night. He is in pain. He is nauseous. He is absolutely miserable. Are we having fun yet???? He makes it through about 3/4 of the first jug of this stuff before he can't take it anymore (somewhere around mid-morning Tuesday). And this is when the fun starts....his belly feels full, he says they have to stop giving him the GoLYTELY....and then the massive vomiting starts. 

This is the point where I say it's time to stop and give him a rest and nausea meds and pain meds and knock his butt out. And still no pooping to be done. That's when they bring out the big guns....enema's. Have you ever given a 15 year old boy an enema???? Neither have I, I am sure it's not a pleasant experience on either end of it. So we sneak it in while he was knocked out and he didn't even remember it! Now we're talking Tuesday late after noon, 3/4 of a jug of GoLYTELY and and enema AND STILL NO POOP! WTH! The doctors are discussing options B and C....I wasn't told what those options were and I am sure I don't want to know...yet....maybe next go round I will be brave enough to ask. 

About 4 hours later he wakes up and it's time to start again....slowly. Now don't forget he is now without food over 36 hours. So not only is he in pain and nauseous....he's starving and ornery as all hell. Not a good combination. We're "starving him. not trying to help him" (his rantings).

 And then you have the "Hallelujah, Thank GOD! moment".....the first poop. I never thought I would be so happy to hear my kid take a shit! Oh, but don't get to excited because now the fun REALLY begins! As things get moving good the poor kid has to ATTEMPT to make it to the toilet in time every 5-15 MINUTES. This is not fun for a mom to watch and I am sure even less enjoyable for a teenage boy to experience. As the hours tick off you wonder if there will ever be an end....will he ever poop clear....how much longer can he go without food before he loses it?  He hit the breaking point about Noon Wednesday (60 hours since his last meal). He was making progress, but not quick enough for him to be happy about it. I had to go for a walk. 

Finally, they agree to clear liquids. YAY! Popsicle and ginger ale....the happiness was short lived. The demand for "real food" begins again. 

And then, he hears the words he's been waiting to hear for days.... "lets order another x-ray to make sure you are all cleaned out and if so you can eat"-doc "what do you want to order for dinner"-nurse

And then your food comes before you get the all clear....

And you have exert all of the self control your 15 year old starving body has to not just dig in while waiting for the OK. I can almost guarantee that was the best hospital burger this boy has ever tasted!

We opt to stay 1 more night, to make sure he tolerates his dinner and doesn't have any further problems. 

We are old pro's at dealing with everything under the sun CF can throw at us respiratory wise, digestive issues like this are new to us. A lot of babies are born with an issues similar to this called meconium ileus. Zach never had this as a baby, so never thought it could be an issue. BOY WERE WE WRONG! Now that he has this nice added CF complication we have to keep an eye on how many times a day he is pooping and treat accordingly. 

While I am sure this is in no way our last hospitalization due to the wonderful crap CF can throw at us, I am hoping (as I am sure Zach is) that is will be the last time he is hospitalized for DIOS. We can only continue to hope for a cure, one that will help EVERY possible gene mutation there is for CF, and one that will fix all the things CF can affect in these kids (and adults) bodies.

To help us continue our FIGHT FOR A CURE or for more information on CF you can visit www.cff.org

I'M GOING BACK TO COLLEGE!

I can't believe I am finally doing it! In less than a month I will be a full-time student again! I am so excited I can't stand it! I have been wanting to go back to college FOREVER.

I love learning. I went to college right out of high school. Started my first semester 4 months pregnant with my oldest. I was the best time of my life.  I didn't have the traditional college experience because I was pregnant but I wouldn't have changed a thing. I was going to school to be a RN. I was taking classes with my mom. I made new friends. I just loved everything about college.

I was at the end of my 3rd semester of RN school when my life decide to say "FU, you aren't finishing this". It all started with failing a course (something I had never done), by a 1/10th of a point! The teacher wouldn't let me do anything to make it up and I was devastated. Then my personal life fell apart....I never went back.

18 years later, I am FINALLY able to start again. I am not going for nursing this time. This time I have decided to go for something that means A LOT to me and that I already KNOW A LOT about....Respiratory Therapy.

I am so excited to start this new venture. I need a new direction in my life and I am so glad that I can finally do something that will make my kids proud of me. That is my biggest goal....to have my kids look at me and say "mom we are so proud of you".

Day 2 inpatient with Zach. Today at least the majority of the nurses and other staff that took care of him where competent and nice....Well until the over night shift, then they slacked a little. I woke up at 4am to his feed going off. I checked to make sure it wasn't twisted or crimped off and then I looked at the machine and realized that it was done. So I buzzed the nurse and 10 minutes later no one came so I unhooked him myself (I was not going to let all that air pump into his stomach). A nurse never did come.

Woke up at 6am in pain, because these pullout so-called "beds" for parents suck ass and my entire body hurts. Walked over to Dunkin Donuts and got my much needed coffee and when I got back there was a tech outside the room so I told her I unhooked his feed at 4am and she said she would tell the nurse. Nurse comes in and says "oh I had to add more to it, that's why it was going off"....ummmm then I guess you should have answered the call bell instead of just turning it off! I have no idea why they didn't just put all the feed in the bad like we do at home, but again, answer the call bell instead of just turning it off!

Being stuck in a hospital room all day sucks. It's always a crap-shoot of whether or not Zach will be allowed to leave the room. Last time we were here, he wasn't allowed to leave the room, his admission in Florida he wasn't allowed to leave the room, in Denver he could leave the room as long as he wore a mask (for his protection). He hates it when he can't leave his room, so we once again asked what the protocal was here. At first we were told no. Then we were told yes. Then we were told "wait and let us talk to Doctor and see what they say". When it was all said and done the decision was yes he could leave the room masked up (for his protection).

So of course he didn't want to leave the room, let alone the bed, since he had permisssion to. When he isn't allowed to roam the halls he gets pissy that he is stuck in the room. You just can't win sometimes. I finally made him get his butt out of bed and go for a walk with me, he needs his excercise, his lungs will not get any better if he doesn't move around.

We have learned that he is extremely sensitive to Vancomyacin. He experiences what they call "red-mans syndrome" it's not an allergic reaction, just a side affect that is extremely annoying to those who experience it. With his 1st dose I thought he was going to scratch his scalp off, then his entire face turned red. I knew what it was because he has had Vancomyacin 1 other time and it happened.  So they gave him benedryl and decided to run it slower (over 2 hours instead of 1). 1/2 way through his 2nd dose (with a dose of IV benedryl before) he starts itching AGAIN. So they once again slow it down even more (over 4 hours) and up his benedryl dose.

 OK so each dose is suppose to START 6 hours apart, so running it over 4 hours means that 1 1/2 hours after 1 ends he needs to have an infusion of the benedryl then start the next dose. While this may be good and feasible in the hospital setting, I was stressing about how the hell I was going to manage it at home. That's a lot of remembering and timing, and I know I would NOT be able to do it exactly on time, I have way too much other things going on, but I would have figured it out if that is how we got sent home. Thankfully we had a very good case-worker who said "hey do you realize what you are asking this family to do at home???" So the doctors and pharmacy and case-worker worked out a more feasible plan. Now Zach will go home with a continuous infusion of the antibiotic, with it running this slow we are hoping for no reaction and no need for the benedryl (it makes him sleep ALOT).

So last night we started with the continuous infusion and no benedryl. He did not like the idea of not having the benedryl, but we explained to him that the minute he started feeling itchy or anything else he could have it. It has been about 14 hours and so far no reactions. WOO HOO.

The home health agency came in last night to show us how to use the continuous pump. It will suck for him to have to carry it everywhere, but he will just have to deal with it. This disease is not going away anytime soon and I am sure this will not be the last time he is stuck with this antibiotic and continuous IV for it. MRSA can only be treated by a few things and he is allergic to the other main antibiotic.

They also decided to start him back on hypertonic saline nebulizers. He did these when he was about 7 and could not stand them so they were stopped. He is not happy with having to do them and has flat out said he wont once he goes home. He just doesn't understand how much it will help him to conitnue doing them. It helps break up all that crap in his lungs so he can cough it out. The doctor took a video while he was doing the bronchoscopy the other day so I asked him to bring it so Zach can see what the insides of his lungs look like. I am hoping when he see's how nasty they were he will understand more why he has to do the things he has to do.

These are the times when we really hate CF. The times when it steals our summers, ruins any fun we could have, and ties him down to a machine to make him better. This is the life we will continue to deal with until they find a cure or it steals him away from us.  We have no choice but to ride the roller coaster continuously until one or the other happens, we hope and pray that they find a cure soon.

Oh the things you learn while inpatient

As we were sitting in the waiting room of the pediatric OR yesterday morning I couldn't help but over hear the stories of what other families were there for. Eavesdropping is, admittidly, one of my favorite things to do when in this situation. I love to listen to other people talk about their life issues. I know it's bad, I know it  makes me a nosey person, but ya know what, I don't really care. It can also put my life into perspective, you can realize that what you are currently going through is nothing compared to what others are going through. The last time we sat in this waiting room there was a family with a young child going through brain surgery to remove a tumor, Zach was getting his g-tube placed....made Zach's surgery seem like nothing. This time it was the complete opposite. We had to sit near this couple who were obviously lower income (not judging, just stating), their (I assume) infant/toddler was in surgery and they were obviously very concerned as this was apparenetly his second one (all gained from eavesdropping). When the doctor came out to talk to them I was a little floored, and slightly irratated by their behavior, when I heard the type of surgery their son was in for and some of the questions that followed from the parents. Simply procedure, common procedure, procedure that fixed immediately what the problem was and the child would have no further problems. You would have thought their child was having major surgery, might not survive it, would have life long complications with how they had been acting. I understand that all surgeries, especially at such a young age can be complicated, and I realize I am probably a little jaded when it comes to the simple problems in life, but seriously these people where overboard.

As I was falling alseep last night I realized a few things that the day had taught me.

1.) There is always someone worse off then you. This time, from the conversations around us, we were the ones "worse off". The simple procedures, the fixable problems, the minor illnesses that go away in short periods of time.....there are so many days that I wish for those problems. Instead we were handed Cystic Fiborsis, a life filled with daily meds and treatments that take up hours of your time, chronic respiratory infections that can kill, ruined summers/holidays/vacations, lengthy hospital stays, countless clinic visits, panic when lung functions drop below optimal, always wondering if this is the beginning of the start of the decline that will lead to oxygen tanks and eventual lung transplants (yes I am a pessimist).

2.) Doctors "forget" to order/do things. Yup you read that right, they forget, they are not perfect. We had planned with the doctor for Zach to come in and have a brochoscopy, have all the crap cleaned out of his lungs, have a PICC line place for 3 weeks of antibiotics, stay here for 2-5 days and go home with PICC for remainder. All the doctor put in the order for the OR was the bronchoscopy, didn't surprise me there the last time we were here they "forgot" to put in the order for him to be admitted after the g-tube placement. Once on the floor, talking with the respiratory therapist we realize that the doctor had also failed to order the new nebulizer that we decided to start Zach on during this stay. All in all though everything did get done that was suppose to. I guess our new CF doctor is known for not putting orders in and saying "oh yeah, by the way, we are doing this too". But I like him, he is aggressive, proactive and he listens to us.

3.)Momma instinct are ALWAYS right! I told the doctors MONTHS ago that Zach needed a tune-up and they kept handing him oral antibiotics because he wasn't culturing anything new. No he wasn't culturing anything new but his cough was horrible and wouldn't go away and he was not himself and he had lost a 1/3 of his lung function.....1/3!!!!! That is a HUGE lose for anyone especially a CF patient! I was vindicated when the doctor came out of the OR and told us that we had made the right choice. He had removed "copious" amounts of thick yellow mucous from Zach's lungs, lungs that were severely inflamed, lungs that looked like crap on x-ray, lungs that could NOT take deep breathes. All this mucous was just sitting in his lungs, causing damage while doctors played "I know best" with my child's health. And just because his sputum/throat swab wasn't showing nothing new growing that doesn't mean that there isn't something different in all that crap they  just removed from his lungs (still waiting on those results)

4.) Sometimes nurses just aren't a good fit for certian floors. Our first nurse yesterday was floated to this floor from her normal floor. I don't think she has had a lot of hands on experience with CF kids or their needs. Don't get me wrong, she was a good nurse, but when she looks at my 14year old CFer who is refusing to eat his dinner because there is cheese on his hamburger and she rolls her eyes and says "can't you eat the cheese" and then proceeds to tell him "I'm sorry the kitchen closes at 7 (he was alseep when his dinner came) and we have no other options for you". Can anyone tell me how many mistakes where in that sentence of hers???? 1-never roll your eyes at a kid just because they are a picky eater. 2-never tell a CF kid, or really any kid, that they will just go without because "there are no other options for you" and 3-THERE'S A NUTRITION CENTER ON THE FLOOR THAT HAS "SNACKY" TYPE FOODS (mac&cheese, cereal, pbj etc.)! Needless to say momma found a pizza place nearby that had garlic pizza and that was what Zach had for dinner.

Let's see if day 2 inpatient teaches me anything more :)

On Thursday (12/4/2014) Zach had his mik-key g-tube placed. He had lost weight again and when the nutritionist from the CF clinic came and saw us in the hospital she said that this had definitely been the right choice for him.

The surgery went good. They ran into a little bump when they discovered that he had more stomach muscle then they expected (which caused a big smile and a "gun show" from Zach). Because of this he wasn't allowed to eat until they rechecked the placement of the tube, which meant he went for 40+ hours with no food what-so-ever, making for a very unhappy boy. Once the study was done and he was allowed to eat, he pigged out (chocolate milk, pb&j sandwich and a burger).

They gave him his initial tube feed Friday night, starting at 35ml an hour and working up to 95ml an hour (the rate he gets at home) over 10 hours. So this meant a 2nd night in the hospital for us (yes I stayed in the hospital). That first night he had some cramping with the feed, but nothing horrible, which meant we got to come home on Saturday.

His appetite since we have been home has been less than what I had hoped it would be. I expected him to not be hungry at breakfast time, at least for a while, but he hasn't ate much for lunch the last 2 days and that concerns me. I am sure his appetite will pick up once his body adjusts to the calories (almost 1500) he is taking in over night.

I know we are probably going to have a slight weight lose before he starts to gain. I was just hoping that it wouldn't happen. I know his body has to adjust to the new feeds and that his stomach will gradually stretch back out so that he has an appetite, I just hope it doesn't take too long.  I suppose if it does we can always talk to nutritionist and see about doing a bolus feeding or 2 during the day, but I don't want him to become dependent on the tube feedings. He is such a picky eater to begin with and I don't want him to start thinking that now that he has the tube he doesn't have to eat normal food.

I have opted to keep him home for this 1st week of recovery. I am sure it is going to be a long week and he will get bored and probably drive me bonkers, but I just didn't feel comfortable sending him to school with the tube so new. He will have a tutor coming in for a few hours a day to keep him up on his school work and he isn't too happy about that, but I refuse to let him fall behind in school.

All in all I still believe he made the right choice to get the g-tube and I do believe in the long run it will be a great benefit to him and his health....

Well the day we have been waiting for 2 days off. Zach made this decision and I am so proud of him for it. By this time Thursday he will be resting in his hospital room the proud new recipient of a g-tube.

Many people have questioned his decision to get the tube placed now. I am proud of him for coming to the conclusion that his weight battle may never end without the help of the tube. It was an extremely grown-up decision for a 13 year old to make.

I can't imagine how hard it is for him. He has this "rare" disease, that no one in our family has. He knows 1 other person with CF (a girl his age in his school). He is almost 14, struggles to maintain a weight of 80-85 pounds (most kids his age are at least 100 or better), he is barely 5 foot tall (shortest boy in his class). He's active, but now that puberty has started being active and having trouble maintaining or gaining weight is really affecting his activity tolerance.

 He often feels like he is battling this alone. I don't know how many times I have listened to him fight me on treatments because "you don't have to do them, no one else has to do them, why do I have to???" We hate this disease so much. Some days it seems like its a never ending battle. But then there are those days that it feels like we are finally beating this. Those are the days you live for. Those days when your kid just does his treatments without a fight, takes all his meds, doesn't hate life because he was dealt this shitty hand. The days when he stands up and says "YOU WILL NOT DEFEAT ME OR DEFINE ME". Those are the days we live for.

I am proud of him for deciding it was time to get the g-tube. I am proud of him for finally taking control of his health and starting to make decisions for himself.

20 years

How the time flies. I can't believe it's been 20 years since I last saw your face. 20 years since the last time I heard you laugh or walked with you to my next class. You were my best friends when I didn't think I wanted to be close to anyone in a place I couldn't stand. We were both transplants from the North in a hick town in the middle of the South. From the day we met we were inseparable. You were there for me through thick and thin. You listened to me bitch about my relationship and you promised to always be there for me. You didn't get to full-fill that promise in the physical sense, but I know you are still with me. Still watching over me and now my kids.

 I will never forget the night I got the phone call telling me you were gone.....

It was as horrible November day. The weather was crappy, it was pouring rain and there were tornado warning all around. We were on Thanksgiving break from school. I hadn't gotten to see you over vacation because you had family down from Michigan. It was about 7 at night when I got the phone call. Someone I couldn't stand called me. They told me you had been in a car accident and that you were dead. I thought it was an awful prank. I remember telling them that they could kiss my ass, and that they were just flat out mean for saying those things. I was so angry at them. But in the back of my mind I was terrified that it was true. I hung up the phone and called R. I told him what they told me. I made him call your parents to see if it was true. I couldn't make that phone call. I remember sitting there for what seemed like forever for him to call me back. Finally I called him back. It was all true. In a heartbeat you were gone. I felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest. I cried so hard. I called my mom who was on her way home from work, but had to stop at some strangers house because the weather had gotten so bad she couldn't drive the last couple of miles home. I couldn't believe that you were gone! I curled up in bed, holding a stuffed bear, bawling my eyes out. I got so mad that I threw the bear across my room. I just wanted to break something, I wanted to run away, I wanted to see you, I wanted to see for myself that you were gone. I finally fell asleep crying. I remember waking up later that night, feeling like someone had wrapped me up in their arms and finding the bear I had thrown earlier stuck in my arms. That's when I knew that you didn't completely leave me. That's when I knew that you would always be by my side, even when I couldn't see you or hear you.

The next days were a blur of anger and sadness and hurt. I remember my parents telling me I didn't have to go to school that Monday. My dad asking me to stay home. But I couldn't. I couldn't be at home, I had to be somewhere that you were with me. Going to school was the hardest thing for me. We shared a locker. All of your books and things were in my locker. I remember getting to school and standing in front of the locker thinking to myself  "how the hell am I going to get through this day, how am I going to open this locker and see your things and not totally lose it". I was standing there thinking all these things when all of our friends came to me and wrapped me in their arms. I remember we had a moment of silence for you. The school had counselors set up that we could talk to. None of them made the pain any better. I only made it through a couple of periods before we decided to ditch school. We went to the park and climbed to the top of the rocky hill and sat there and talked about you. Relived all the good memories. We sat there for hours. Then we went back to school for the last period of the day. No one questioned me leaving, no one gave me a hard time for skipping out on classes, not even my mother who had come to the school to check on me. They all understood that I was not handling losing you well at all.

Then came the memorial service. God what an awful thing to have to go to for your 16 year old best friend. It was horrible seeing you laying in that casket. Knowing that would be the last time I ever laid eyes on you or touched you. You were so cold. I remember smiling through the tears thinking about how proud you would have been of the bruises you were sporting that no amount of make-up could completely cover. I remember talking to your parents and holding on to them. I will never forget when your mom looked at me and told me how much you loved me and that you had hoped that one day I would leave R and then you would have your chance. She told me you were in love with me and wanted to marry me if R didn't. It hurt so bad to hear those words. I lost it. I remember trying to climb into the casket with you. I remember R dragging me out of that god-forsaken funeral home and trying to calm me down.

 I remember wanting to punch your girlfriend for being an inconsiderate, disgusting tramp.

Your parents let us put things in your casket with you. Things that made us think of you. I was so angry that so many people put things related to pot in there. I remember thinking how they really had no clue who you were. I remember thinking they only knew the party side of you, they didn't know the kind, loving, caring, awesome person you really were. I think you saved that side of you for only me to see.

It was hard for a long time. Time stops the tears and the pain, but it hasn't done anything to heal the hole in my heart that was your place.

When I found out I was pregnant with my first son, I wanted to name him after you. I was told no, that I had to let you go and that I didn't need that reminder for the rest of my life. It wouldn't have mattered. I have never forgotten you. I invited your mom to the baby shower, but she couldn't come. I invited them to my 1st wedding, but she told me she couldn't because it should be you up there. These thoughts still bring tears to my eyes.

I tried to stay close to your family, but after the wedding I was told I had to let you  and them go. I had to stop holding on to the past. Even though you were both of our friends, losing you hurt me the most.

Every so often I would try to search for your mom, dad and brother online. I never had any luck finding them...until this year. I finally found your brother and parents on facebook. I am hoping they remember me and accept my friends requests, I am hoping its not too hard for them to reconnect with me. They may not want to, they may not want to reopen that old wound. I cried when I look at the pictures your dad has posted. There is one of you. The drawing someone did for them. God I can't believe it's been 20 years! You will always be that 16 year old boy in that drawing. You will never get old. I will always remember you that way, smiling and laughing, walking me to class.

I miss you so much Brandon. I don't know if you knew it or not, but I did love you. You were my best friend. My rock, my comfort, my support. I would have gladly said yes had you asked me out.

I saw a psychic a few months ago. She told me someone very close to me was watching over my kids. I had always assumed it was my grandfather. Then she told me it was a young man. I knew in a heartbeat it was you. She made me bawl, telling me things about us that only we knew. She said you know I loved you and that you would always be around me and the kids. My Tristan reminds me of you. So sweet, loving and caring, but puts on the front of the funny guy around those who aren't close to him. He's goofy, and silly, and strong and smart....just like you were. He could pass for your kid just by the way he acts. I think a part of you was reborn in him.