Claire's World

Claire's World

( 4:04 PM ) Greg Griffith
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Claire's newest trick:

Ask her, "Claire - on a scale of one to ten, how cute are you?"

She answers: "Efeffen."

She's actually saying "eleven." It's pretty darn cute now, but is predicted to get much cuter when she masters those L's.

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( 3:55 PM ) Greg Griffith
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Well, what has been without a doubt the absolute worst Christmas season in Griffith family history has mercifully - or so we hope - drawn to a close. Before I elaborate, let me say that I'm not complaining. I'm just stating a fact: All of our Christmas holidays to date have been uneventful at worst; many have been quite pleasant; some have been sublime and wonderful. I know full well that we are extraordinarily lucky: A precious daughter, kind and generous parents and friends who open their beautiful homes to us, two caring church communities, an income that allows us to be generous; an embarassment of riches in food, gifts, and cheer. I know that hundreds of millions of people around the world dream of a Christmas as lovely as this one... but be that as it may, for us at least, this Christmas was just plain lousy.

It began two Sunday before Christmas. SDG and I went to Meridian to do a book signing for Carousels Abound. That night, she had put Claire in the crib and was arranging the blankets when - whap! - her back gives way. Now, this has happened to both of us a few times over the years, and it always sucks - a day of total immobility followed by three days of hobbling around, followed by a week of soreness and not lifting anything over 3 pounds. Well, this was easily the Mother of All Back Wrenchings. The morning after it happened, it took both of us 20 minutes to get her into a sitting position so that she could eat cereal. That was Monday morning, and I had a presentation Tuesday morning for which I had to go back to Jackson. So I left Claire and SDG with the Deens, with my folks helping out with the child. I went to Jackson, finished prepping the presentation, gave it the next afternoon, and drove to Meridian.

That was Tuesday. It was Thursday before we were able to get SDG down to the first floor and into the car. We headed back to Jackson with dreams of sugar plum fairies etc. The next few days were pleasant enough - getting Christmas gifts ready and the like.

But Monday morning, Stacey started feeling a pain in her stomach. It was the same pain she had felt a few months ago, and which her doctor had chalked up to a hiatal hernia, and recommended she take Pepcid and rest. It passed, and we had thought nothing much of it since.

The pain persisted through the day, and finally at 11:30 Monday night she called her G.I. doctor, who said that her symptoms sounded like a gall bladder attack, and to get herself to the E.R. immediately. We bundled up the child, plunged into the screeching wind and rain, and headed for the Baptist E.R. For the next 5 hours, Stacey sat in a hellish little room, virtually unattended by anyone, while Claire and I sat in the relative comfort of the Mercedes, constantly pounded by the heavy rains, occasionally rocked by the heavy winds.

What Baptist was up to is still anybody's guess. They X-rayed, but did no ultrasound. They prescribed something for pain, something for nausea, and sent us home. Told us it was OK to travel.

So the next morning, Christmas Eve, we packed up and headed to Meridian. Got into town just in time for the 4:00 pm children's mass. On the way home from church, Stacey started having The Pain again. Phone calls to 4 different pharmacies revealed that none of them could fill this odd prescription for pain. As the 4th one was telling me they didn't have it, the pain reached a point where Stacey announced that it was time to go the emergency room.

Off we headed to the Riley E.R. at about 5. Riley X-rayed and did an ultrasound, and expressed disbelief that

a) Baptist didn't see in their X-rays what were clearly gallstones that had descended into the bile duct;
b) Baptist didn't do an ultrasound; and
c) that they cleared Stacey to travel in what was plainly an acute state. So off she went to a regular room.

The next day, Christmas Day, she spent under pain and nausea medication. Thursday, she underwent an endoscopic procedure in which a tube was sent down her throat, through her stomach, and into her bile duct, where two gallstones were removed. She came back to the room under heavy sedation.

Now, when you do a procedure like that, you're not allowed to eat anything solid for a day before the procedure. But a large part of the digestive tract is also upset in a major way. The result? Often, patients begin vomiting up the contents that were disturbed. And when the contents contain no food and very little liquid, and mostly bile, then you can imagine what an ugly scene results. This went on for 2 hours.

The next day, she underwent a laparoscopic procedure to remove her gall bladder. An incision was made in her navel, into which the scope was inserted. Tiny incisions in the rib cage and abdominal areas were made, through which instruments were inserted to manipulate the gall bladder and the surrounding tissue and structures. Air is introduced into the abdomen, lifting this off of that and so on, so the surgeon can see what's going on. The navel scope has a lighted camera on the end, and the surgeon, guided by the video feed from the navel scope, uses the instruments inserted through the other incisions to dissect the gall bladder and remove it through the scope. No sutures were used - all the incisions were closed with DermaBond - essentially SuperGlue for skin. Fascinating, but not something you want to go through at all, especially the day after Christmas.

Anyway, she was back in the room 3 hours later (during which I watched my Golden Eagles lose to Oklahoma State), and slept for 2 hours (while I watched Ole Miss beat Nebraska). She awoke and ate a hamburger, chicken soup, 2 chocolate chip cookies, and some juice, and at 9:15 we left the hospital. Amazing, really, that 9 hours after they started surgey she was discharged, and has been feeling steadily better ever since. But still, not something you want to spend your Christmas holiday doing. We're not complaining, though - we think they lost someone who was in the E.R. with us on Christmas Eve.

So Santa didn't come until Friday night, and Saturday morning was all oohing and ahhing and tearing of paper. Stacey's been stuck in the arm more than Courtney Love, she's on the All-Bland Diet, and moving around is getting easier but is still quite difficult.

Tuesday night, on the way to the hospital to see Stacey, Bob backed his Highlander into my Mercedes, and today when we were leaving Claire took a spill off of her Radio Flyer trike, resulting in a big shiner under her right eye. I have somehow avoided physical injury, but something tells me another shoe is just determined to drop.

Pray for us: the battered but unbowed Griffith clan.

And if you need ideas for get-well-soon gifts, consider something in the 100-proof range.

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( 1:12 PM ) Greg Griffith
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Next to "turtle," the cutest word Claire says just might be "Jesus," which we've taught her using the nativity Gail gave us recently. We'll point to the baby Jesus and ask her who it is. What makes it so cute is her lisp: Her chubby little tongue goes all the way out on the two s's. We're going to try and get it on videotape, but for now, as best I can write it, it sounds like this: "Day-thuth."

She can also identify "angel," "joseph," "sheep," and "camel."

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( 10:47 AM ) Greg Griffith
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Latest Check-up

We just returned from a visit to Dr. Freeman's office where Claire got 3 (ugh!) shots: Polio, DPT, and HIB. She now weighs 26.5 lbs, and is 33.5" tall. Patient is resting comfortably.

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