Hospital Journal: There's No Place Like Home

I sat on the couch-turned-bed, looking out the window, as the clock ticked it's way to midnight. I glanced over at Spencer, asleep in his bed, and whispered "Happy New Year, my sweet boy!" The Salt Lake Valley was all lit up as I enjoyed my own personal fireworks show from the 3rd floor of the hospital. It was still so hard to believe that we had been living here in this building for three months now. It was harder still to believe how very sick my son had been, and now, how very healthy he was becoming. Most unbelievable to me though, was that with that stroke of the clock, we had finally reached the day that I had been hoping and praying for the entire three months. We were going home!

My list of ways that Primary Children's is amazing got longer and longer everyday. Even after we were home I was able to add to that list because I realized jut how perfectly they had prepared us for discharge. It was quite daunting to think of bringing Spencer home without one of his nurses right there to answer our questions, but they taught us so well. They turned much of his care--specifically his meds and dressing changes--over to us the last several days so that when we were home it was all very familiar. In fact, I felt so comfortable with things by discharge day that it was hard to be patient with all of the last minute instruction that had to be done. I was ready to go!!

Santa had somehow managed to fit this little 4-wheeler through the hospital chimney, so Spencer was able to decline the offer of a wheelchair ride to the car. He had his own wheels!

Uncle Shaun and cousin Andrew, from Virginia, happened to fly in to SLC that day. It was so great to see them and get a surrogate hug from my sister. They helped us with cars, driving mine home, so that Matt and I could ride together in one car with Spencer.

Here he is, out the front door! His shirt was a gift from another cousin, Cooper, who has a matching scar on his chest. It says, "Chicks Dig Scars".

We turned the corner onto our street and the sight that was before us reduced me to a crying mess. Our whole neighborhood as well as many family members were in front of our house, lining both sides of the street, clapping and cheering and crying right along with us. We rolled down the windows and drove through the crowd and under the welcome home banner made by his sisters, and right into the garage.

Matt and Spencer wisely stayed back from the crowd, but I had to get a hug from each and every one of them. It was an incredible moment.  It truly took the prayers, love, and effort of everyone there, as well as hundreds--maybe even thousands--of others to get our little man home. I'm so glad that they were able to experience the joy of that day with us!