Hiccups Suck

Ever present today, besides his daughter, were the hiccups. Apparently this is pretty common after neurosurgery, but they don't know why. He was still hiccuping when I left, which made it hour 6 of solid hiccups. Hopefully he can relax and switch up the rhythm of his breathing a bit to stop the hiccups.

In talking with the on-call neurosurgeon as he made evening rounds, he was pleased that Dad had 30 minutes of "good" today. He said that was really encouraged with that, and that we should look for the same or maybe a little more time tomorrow. As Dad was barely keeping awake sitting in the chair for dinner, he said that the poor guy is probably just really fatigued, and sitting up and some occupational therapy this afternoon really wore him out. By the time dinner came around, he was in quite a bit of pain and almost too exhausted to eat.

I did escape out to the Saint Francis Peace Garden on the Saint Mary's campus, and it was quite peaceful indeed. Above is a picture that I did not take (I haven't downloaded the pictures yet). I do like my picture a bit better, but it's now downloaded yet. Plus this one had flowers in it. The flowers aren't quite planted yet, as Minnesota is coming into summer. I'll download it tomorrow. Despite being up at the hospital almost nine hours today, it didn't really feel like that long of a day. It is such a nice hospital, and everyone is so nice, that time just kind of passes without too much effort.

We did find out this evening that Dad's dear friend Dick Rae lost his battle with cancer this afternoon. Dad talked to him pretty much daily, and they were each other's support system. He's going to take the news really hard, and we're trying to figure out the best time to tell him. Our hearts are a bit heavier tonight for Mary Rae and their family.

Tomorrow we hear from social work, see our neurosurgeon (it wasn't his turn to be on call this weekend), and more rehab for Dad.

Glimmer of good before lunch; now back to really tired

When Dad got up after a nap and some pain meds, he actually seemed much better. He needed help still, but was under a lot of his own power. I was amazed. Nothing like some sleep and some good pain drugs to help out. After a good lunch and some more good pain meds, he was exhausted again and almost back to where he was yesterday.

He's getting some occupational therapy right now. She's tenacious and is not giving in to Dad's desire to just stay in bed. :)

Sunday morning report from St. Marys Hospital

Dad is about the same this morning, only a bit more pain. They've picked up the narcotics once again to try and get it managed (nothing like a little oxycodone to start the morning). He's sleeping now after a somewhat busy morning.

He had a pretty restful night according to his nurse. He had a rehab consultation this morning, and they're recommending in-patient rehab for him. We will talk with a social worker tomorrow to start the coordination with getting him back to Omaha and admitted directly upon arrival. Dad's brother Mike is helping Dad and Mom find a faster way to Omaha. More details on that as we get through the next few days.

After Dad wakes up from his nap and he has lunch, I'm going to try and get him out for a wheelchair ride outside. The weather here is quite beautiful today (although supposed to be windy later), and I think some fresh air would do him good. His nurse Kate has already approved the field trip. I've got the Peace Garden spotted as a good place, but not sure she'll let me take him THAT far away. I'll see.

Chances are about 50/50 that he'll be discharged and back to Omaha on Tuesday afternoon. More than likely it will be Wednesday or even Thursday. One day at a time. I'm happy to hear that he'll stay here for a few more days at least -- he's not ready to travel, and our neurologist will be back on Tuesday morning and will come over if we're still here. Any time we have the opportunity to see this doctor, it's reassuring and helps us get a better idea of what one of the best minds in the business has to say about Dad. He's been following him for over a year now, and we really like him and his approach.

I'm actually going to work from the room today as much as I can. Mom is back at the hotel where I insisted she stay and catch up on her rest a bit. It's just Dad and me until dinner, when I'll go grab Mom and come back up here.

More this evening to wrap up the day. Hope everyone is enjoying the weekend.

Seems a bit better after a long nap

Is it wrong that I'm starting to keep track of the things he says that make me laugh, but really not him? Tonight as he was being helped from the bathroom to his chair to eat dinner, the nursing assistant who was holding on tightly to one side was the target of one of his questions that just made me laugh:

"Geez. Did you work on a ranch?"

And then, as he was sitting eating, he showed me the right hand where he still has an IV port in and said (recalling a somewhat traumatic and painful removal of an IV yesterday):

"Whoever takes that out, I'm gonna hate 'em." Just as deadpan as he could say it. Mom and I split.

He's still hallucinating a bit - mostly due to the fact that he's not opening his eyes much at all in addition to all of the swelling he has from the surgery (on top of pre-surgery swelling), so when he does open them, the light causes a brief period of disorientation. Just now he said as Mom was helping kind of arrange his food so he could take some bites without causing too much pain on his jaw, and he opened up his eyes briefly:

"I was thinking my buddy was back; my sandwich was moving."

He has pressurized leg boots on that keep pressure and blood flow to prevent clots, and it really does feel like someone wraps hands around your ankle, and then moves up towards your knee. For two nights now, Dad has thought it was some guy under the bed. He now refers to "him" as his buddy.

He's still extremely weak on his left side (leg in particular), and still requires two nurses to help him get around. He will get evaluated for rehab, and may get discharged from the hospital and into an inpatient rehab for a while. He's doing better, but still confused and so weak on his left side that he really can't stand on his own. We will look into facilities in Omaha, and work with a social worker on Monday morning to start coordinating the care. Not sure yet when he will get out, but he does seem to get a little better.

Mom and I may try to escape for a movie tonight - but the pace at which dinner is taking Dad, not sure we'll make it. Patience with the patient. That's the motto for the day.

Really tired today, but resting more comfortably

I think the past week is starting to catch up with us all. Mom and I didn't make it out of the hotel until 10AM this morning after a late night last night leaving the hospital, and then doing laundry until after midnight. When we got up to the hospital, Dad had already been cleaned up and shaved (!!!), had breakfast, and was taking a nap. It's nearly noon, and he's been sleeping for almost two hours.

His pain seems to be better managed today, and he seems a bit more comfortable. He's still really off balance when walking with assistance, and still is confused (he knew he was in St. Mary's Hospital, but in Colorado). This can take time for the swelling to go down and for his body to adjust to the new distribution of weight in his head.

We did talk with his nurse this morning of maybe needing to have him in a skilled rehab facility (preferably back in Omaha) for a while as he continues to get his strength built back up and bearings returned. We're checking to see if he can fly home, as a drive home to Omaha in this state would almost be too hard on everyone. Should know more about that later today after we talk to the doctor again.

We're going to explore more of the hospital this afternoon. There's a really nice meditation center, as well as the children's area they did with creating tiles from drawings from kids that were patients here. Supposed to be quite the sight. I'll take some pictures and post them if they turn out.

Hoping for a restful day for Dad after lunch and a short walk in the halls with his nurse.

Sometimes having your life saved hurts. A lot.

The end of Day 2 couldn't have come any faster. Dad had a pretty rough day, but by the time we left tonight, he was maybe just a little bit better. He had a shower today (which he doesn't remember), but no shaving just yet. His right side of his face and jaw are incredibly sore from where they made the incision and the muscles of his face are revolting a bit. His sense of time is still way off, and we're doing what we can to protect all of you from middle of the night phone calls from Dad to check in.

The new message we're trying to get into some of the space he now has in his head is that this surgery saved his life. Of course, I'm getting a lot of credit I don't really deserve but at this point I'm taking it all. Apparently in Dad's mind it was my idea (and mine alone) to come to Mayo's. I may not have given him four adorable grandkids, but I saved his life. That has to be worth at LEAST the keys to the beetle convertible someday, right? :)

No "sitter" in the room tonight - the nurse is going to extend a little more trust and let Dad have the room to himself tonight. What he may not quite realize is that about ten feet away is the nurses' station, where his nurse for the night will be sitting and keeping a watchful eye.

He did seem a bit better as we were leaving, and some chocolate ice cream and some hot chocolate were on the way. Hope he gets a bit more sleep tonight than last night, but only getting tylenol to combat the pain seems a bit medieval. They know what they're doing, though, and getting him off of narcotics was what they really needed to do for a lot of reasons I won't get into here.

Tracy reported tonight that there were neighbors stopping by the house tonight to check in on how things were going when she went out to just check in herself. Our dear neighbor Gene across the street was out pulling weeds. We can't thank you enough for all you all are doing while we're up here. Figuring out a way to say "Thank You" to everyone for all they have done may be our next biggest challenge, one we will be happy to tackle.

Here's hoping tomorrow is a little better, although Day 2 and Day 3 are tough according to Dad's nurse who has seen a lot of these before. She said that these days are really tough as the first full day there is still some anesthesia and good drugs on board to help fight the pain; and the muscles haven't quite woken up to the trauma. Day two things start picking up in the pain and discomfort department. Still no target on when he may get out of the hospital, but could be Monday.

One day at a time. And after a little laundry, this one will be complete.

They say "Day Two" is the worst - so far, they're right

Who knew brain surgery and coming off of pain meds could be so rough? They say the second day after surgery is often the hardest, and for once, Dad is following the textbook. He's having a pretty rough morning. They're trying to pull him off as much pain medication (other than tylenol) as possible to kind of wake him up a bit more, and he's having some issues with that. He has a bunch of swelling on the right side of his face and neck from the surgery, and is in quite a bit of pain from that. Eating is difficult, but the McDonald's parfait just went down well.

He's pretty confused and disoriented, and even hallucinating a bit. They attribute that to the swelling and the coming off of pain drugs. He pretty much looks and feels miserable today. Hopefully he'll be able to take a shower today and get cleaned up - that should help him about as much as anything, although it's sure to exhaust him.

Mom and I both feel like we hit a wall this morning going 100mph (apparently the last few weeks are catching up). I printed out the blog for him to read when he feels like catching up on the past few days, but so far, he's not ready for that. Still making progress. Today feels a bit like a step back, but apparently this is right on target for the healing process. Could be a long day for everyone.

Calling it a night - still can't believe the news

We're still finding it hard to believe the news we got today. Something we wanted to believe was possible, but after the last year, can the Dillons have that kind of luck?

Yes.

To prepare for what could be an interesting night for the staff on the neurology step-down unit, they moved Dad to a corner room right next to the nurses' station. There is a clear line of site into his room (and his bed) at all times. The bed alarm is on "high alert" - and when that alarm goes off, there is no mistaking that it should be taken seriously and get the heck out of the way as a few people are running down the hall NOW to make sure Dad doesn't get out of bed on his own. We also felt somewhat reassured that a care tech was in the room with his computer, basically blocking the doorway and just a few steps from the bed. He was going to be Dad's "buddy" for the evening and not leave his side. When Dad is really tired, he gets more confused, and even more convinced that he should be able to get up out of bed. There's no convincing him otherwise.

Mom and I are now back at the hotel and beyond tired. Uncle Steve left this afternoon as Dad was settling into his new room, and made it back to Nebraska without incident. We hope to do the same Sunday or Monday, just as soon as Dad is able to leave the hospital and travel. The next few days are just focusing in on getting Dad stronger and healing. 40 staples to close the incision, and some titanium screws to hold the skull back together will take a bit longer to heal for him than those that have never had radiation treatments. Keeping infection at bay is Job One now.

Be on the alert - Dad has been without a cell phone for a few days, and he's starting to scroll through the contact list (sometimes with his eyes closed) and dialing. He's pretty with it, but for the most up to date and accurate news, please refer to the blog and not Dad. . .at least not yet.

Good night from Rochester.

Pathology is back - we found our Miracle at Mayo's

A few things have happened in the past two hours worthy of noting:

• We met with the neurologist in the ICU who happened to be up on the unit visiting another patient, so he stopped over to talk to us for a bit. He thought Dad looked good, and did notice that his field of vision in his left eye seemed to be impacted a little, but that could come back over the next week or so. Overall, pretty minimal. He also said that if Dad's strength didn't come back before he was released from the hospital, they'd release him to go to some rehab, which can be done in Omaha. He said that he did not yet have pathology reports back, but that he'd be taking his computer on a trip over the weekend and would let us know when he heard anything. He said he'd be back on Tuesday, and if we were still around he'd stop over to see us.
• Dad was transferred out of ICU and up to the step-down unit without too much difficulty. He's now settled into his room and getting comfortable. He had a few pain pills and was really tired after the transfer up here and sitting up in a chair, so he's back in bed and nearly asleep.
• We were not settled into the room more than an hour when a nurse walked into the room and asked if we knew the neurologist who was on the phone wanting to talk to Roger Dillon's daughter. I said sure, and my heart sank a bit thinking he got the results back from pathology. I got on the phone and I asked, "Is this a good phone call or a bad phone call?" He confirmed with an elated voice, "Good."

He said he ran into the pathologist on the way back down to his office, and the pathology confirmed the exact same diagnosis as the biopsy did last week - treatment effect. He said that that was ZERO evidence of high grade tumor anywhere in the sample, which is HUGE news. He said that he thought this all along since Dad looked too good to be having high grade tumor taking over. He also said that they are seeing a few cases like Dad's where a certain genetic makeup plus the temodar (chemo) plus the radiation at the same time are causing a dramatic treatment effect. He confirmed that what we did yesterday was the EXACT right decision to open up some more room for swelling and further treatment effect (the damage can have an extended ramp time before it peaks, but once it peaks it's done).

The neurologist also said that Dad should see some abatement of his symptoms over time (didn't say how long), and should see some of that pressure on his brain stem and the rest of his brain relax. Right now, he said there is NOTHING to treat him for, and that once he's dismissed from the hospital (hopefully this weekend), we should take him back to Omaha and let him recover. He said they want to closely monitor him, and he'd like us to be back at Mayo's in a month for a follow up MRI and appointment. He mentioned that once he's recovered from the treatment effect, he could see a prolonged period of time without any new symptoms or problems. How long that is, no one knows.

We are all ecstatic with this news, and are so thankful that we came to the Mayo Clinic for this treatment/surgery. It's almost unbelievable that the pathology actually aligned with the gut feeling of the neurologist all along. It hasn't had a chance to sink in yet, but Mom and I will be walking across the street for dinner (lunch was skipped) and likely a few beers to celebrate. I'm pretty sure I'll be finding myself inside of a church more often going forward.

We found our miracle at Mayo's. I'm ready to make the Mayo Clinic the primary beneficiary of my will. And I'm only half-kidding.

Sitting up in bed having a little lunch - pain getting better

I'm sitting in the room watching Dad take in his first solid food. He's pretty lucid, but some things are throwing him (time of day and the year -- he thinks it's early morning and 2010), but everything else seems really good. Applesauce and pudding, along with some turkey and potatoes is on the menu, with focus on applesauce and pudding.

Pain is managed pretty well right now, but he still hurts quite a bit. At least he's not miserable like he was most of last evening and last night. They got him up into the chair this morning, and he's very unstable and required two nurses to get him up. That's something they're watching and will talk to the doctor about later today if it hasn't improved. He's able to move both legs independently and raise them up and hold them, so they're not too concerned.

Still no orders to move out to the step-down unit, which is just fine with all of us. Having him watched so closely is definitely reassuring when the nurse sits literally right outside of his room looking in through a window from her chair.

Dad is taking part in conversations a bit, and even chiming in about how some lottery winners (we did NOT win the Powerball last night, by the way) get into trouble because they spend too much up front.

Overall he's doing pretty well today. Good to see him sitting up and eating a bit. One more step closer to normalcy.

Painful night, but looking good this morning

"The Turban" is on the left. It's now gone, however, which is a good sign.

We're all up here this morning, and have talked with the surgeon. The surgeon is precise in everything he does, including showing up at exactly 8:00AM as he said he would. Dad had a pretty pain-filled night (ranking his pain at "35" on a 1-10 scale), but had plenty of percocet and morphine to try and take the edge off.

I did get a call at 3:45AM (which scared me when I saw that call coming in thinking that the hospital doesn't call you in the middle of the night for good news). Physically and neurologically he was doing just fine, but he was in a lot of pain and insisted on calling me. He was telling me to assure the nurse that he was right in asking to page the anesthesiologist to have him put to sleep so he could get out of pain and to sleep. I convinced him that was not the the thing to do, and that I'd talk to him until the morphine kicked in. That lasted about 30 minutes, and he drifted back to sleep around 4:20AM. Not the same could be said for me, when I finally went back to sleep a bit after 5AM.

We got up here and the turban is off (so a picture from my iPhone from last night will have to suffice - not quite the quality from my good camera), and he had the drain taken out. He will likely move to the step-down unit for a couple of days to kind of get his bearings and still be watched pretty closely. We won't know pathology results for a couple of days, but we could be coming home Sunday or Monday back to Omaha.

The surgeon said this morning that all looked good, his incision was "healthy," and that what they took out yesterday would help prevent the swelling from causing more problems, but wouldn't necessarily improve things a whole lot. But we will know more as the week progresses. Hard to believe that some good won't come from the pressure being taken off. Too early to say. Next steps in treatment will be decided once pathology is back.

Time for breakfast here at one of the largest hospitals in the world. Found out last night from the night nurse there are 130 adult ICU beds in this hospital alone. That's just amazing to me. Huge place with very specialized care in volume. Glad we're here.

Resting pretty comfortably in ICU - final post of the night

Dad looks remarkably well considering what he's been through today. Talking with his nurse when he first hit the ICU, he said that Dad was doing fantastic and really, really well on all of their neuro checks. It was pretty hard to see him in so much pain (which is caused by the incision and the pulling back of the scalp to get to the skull/brain), but that finally got under control and when we left around 9:15PM he had been sleeping for about an hour. He was complaining of pain of "20" on a scale of 1-10, which was pretty hard to see him like that; but now that he's sleeping, the morphine is doing it's job and allowing him to be a bit more comfortable.

His color is really good, and he does indeed have a turban. I'll hold off on a picture until he's a bit more out of his morphine-induced sleep, but I promised him I would post a picture of him if he came out of surgery with one. I have kept all my promises, and don't plan on falling short on this one. He will have the turban on to protect the incision site as well as add some pressure (think of it like an ace bandage for your head) through tomorrow, and possibly into Friday morning. I'll take my camera up tomorrow and get a snapshot.

We all head back up tomorrow morning early to catch the neurosurgeons as they round on patients. I think we're all glad that this day is behind us, and that Dad did so well in the surgery. The next few days are going to be rough for Dad as he starts to heal, but the entire medical staff we talked to seemed genuinely very pleased with how everything was going.

I'll probably do a few updates tomorrow (morning/evening). Thanks to all of you checking in, leaving comments, sending emails, and leaving voicemails. We're getting them ALL, it's just hard to call/write everyone back. The blog is the best spot to get the most up to date information, and I'll do what I can to keep you informed. There are no cell phones allowed (or phones) in the ICU, so this is the best way for me to update a bunch of people at once so I don't have to leave the ICU room for too long. :)

Good night, from Rochester.

Into recovery at 4:55PM- talked to the surgeons

Whew.

Okay, so the surgery went well. We just talked with the neurosurgeon. They took a large piece of his right temporal lobe out, and the early indication was that there was no visual evidence of high grade tumor. The surgeon said he's keeping his fingers crossed that it shows that way on pathology as well, but it "appears" to be primarily necrosis.

He left plenty of room in there to allow for further swelling so that shouldn't be a problem moving forward. Dad was just starting to wake up, and was moving both arms and legs, so that was a good sign. He should be rolling up into his ICU bed in an hour or two.

Once again, we're cautiously optimistic at the early reports about the surgeon not seeing any high grade tumor. We're waiting officially for pathology, though, that should come in over the next few days as they look at all possible areas of the sample they took out.

More after we see Dad in his room.

Starting to close now - 4:30PM

Just got the call from the OR nurse - they are done with the actual resection and are starting to close. That will take about an hour to complete, and then off to recovery.

So if we try to plan (which those who know me at all, it's hard to function without a plan or at least managing expectations):

• Out of OR and into recovery around 5:30PM CST
• Out of recovery (assuming all goes well) and to CT Scan (to ensure no bleeding in the brain) around 7:15 or 7:30PM
• Up to his ICU room around 8PM to get settled
• We'll likely get to see him around 8:15 or 8:30PM

Dad has requested a picture of his "turban" bandages to be posted. I'll see if I can get a shot this evening or wait until he's more alert/awake tomorrow.

Okay, they've started (1:25PM CST)

Just heard from the nurse communicator assigned to our family. They started at 1:25PM PST. It will take about an hour to open up the skull and prep the area, another hour to close up, and whatever time they need in-between to do the actual resection of the brain. We're looking at at least 4:30 or 5PM before he hits recovery, and then another hour or two after that before he is moved to his room in neuro ICU.

In the OR - haven't quite started yet

Entered the OR at 12:32PM. . .still getting him situated and haven't started yet. Steve and Mom and I walked down to the St. Mary's Chapel. Umm, not quite a chapel. It's a full-blown church inside of the hospital walls.

St. Mary's has 54 operating rooms. and they are busy all of the time. I'll post a picture of the chapel shortly. Unbelievable.

Just took him down to anesthesia

Okay, so probably will go into the OR in 1-2hrs, and then another 3-4hrs from then until he's in recovery. I'll keep the blog updated as milestones are reached.

Time for lunch for Mom, Steve, and me. We skipped breakfast - but didn't mean to. :)

Report time was 8AM -- it's now 11am and still waiting

Well, we're all hanging somewhat comfortably in the pre-op waiting room. The nurse finished up all of her evaluations a couple of hours ago, and said "now it's time to wait." Dad is the second case today, so once the neurosurgeon is wrapping up on the first case (which honestly could be noon CST or later), they will come pick up Dad and take him down to anesthesia and then the OR.

Surgery will take 3-4hrs once he's actually in the OR. Likely late afternoon/early evening before he's up in the room.

Dad is still standing by the phone, waiting for any of you that want to take his place for surgery today. :)

Long day for all of us for sure. Rainy and gloomy outside, so even a walk outside is out of the question.

More as we learn more or as things start. . .

Surgery Tomorrow - report time is 8AM

Things are already going in our favor for tomorrow. The extremely early wake-up call has been relieved somewhat, with a report time to the hospital being 8AM. That means Dad won't likely be rolled into the OR until after 10:30AM, but it's a little bit easier on everyone when the day doesn't start at 4:15AM.

The Huffs left this morning as we left for our appointment with the neurosurgeon. It really was great to have them around for a few days. Uncle Steve arrived this evening just in time to join us for dinner at Michael's (Dad thought steak and shrimp sounded good before several days of hospital food, so that is what we did). He'll be hanging around for a few days to offer support, and as he put it, help shield Dad from Mom and I. :)

The appointment with the neurosurgeon went well, and I think we all walked out a bit more encouraged. Dad asked him if his brother were in the same situation, would he tell him to the surgery, and the neurosurgeon responded, "Absolutely. Yes," without hesitating a moment. He walked through the surgery, where they were going to make the incision (starting above his right ear, back to the back of the head and then up the midline to his forehead), and how much hair he was going to have cut. Just a single strip of hair about an inch wide all along the incision path. Everything else remains intact. The idea is to go in tomorrow and remove as much of the necrosis and temporal lobe where tumor is present as he can do safely. He wants to remove as much pressure on the brain stem and have the brain relax with more room.

Above is the MRI scan from last week (click on the image to make it bigger), with a frame taken to show just what they're thinking of doing tomorrow. Note: I do not have my neurology degree, but I have been paying attention in the clinic appointments. In the center is kind of a "mickey mouse" ears shape -- that's the brain stem. The two "ears" should be symmetrical. Looking at the picture, the one on the left is compressed. This is what is causing all of the physical and cognitive problems for Dad.

I was reminded today that for someone that is right-hand dominant, most of your speech, memory, vision, and coordination are stored on the left side of your brain. So thankfully, Dad is right handed. If he were left handed, they could not go in and remove what they're going to remove tomorrow. He wouldn't have been a surgical candidate if he were left-handed since this tumor/necrosis is on the right.

We got him pre-admitted into the hospital this afternoon, as well as additional ultrasounds of his legs to ensure that there were no blood clots (Dad's been mentioning a few times calf pain since coming off of the coumadin that thins his blood, so everyone wanted to be sure). Early indications were that there were no clots present. Great news there.

Back and forth to the clinic we went today - three times in all for appointments, vascular lab, mass and a chat with the priest, and then for me to pick up a CD of the scans that were done last week. I've driven more in the past three weeks than I have in the past four months combined.

I just talked with my Intel teammates, and they've crashed my house in Portland and are drinking my good wine after raiding the wine closet. A few are staying there tonight (Intel has done so much for me, that I'm trying to pay them back with a free couple of nights of lodging and some nicer surroundings than a hotel room), which brings much needed life to the house that has sat dormant and quiet for over three weeks now. Thanks, guys!

I will be posting tomorrow when I can. The surgery will go for 3-4 hours once he gets into the operating room, so as I hear things I'll try to update the blog. Thanks to you all for your support and checking in. It means the world to the entire family.

Until tomorrow. . .

Reinforcements Arrive: Family and Fresh Air

When Tracy and Rich found out that we weren't going to be making it back to Omaha for the Memorial Day weekend, they packed up the car and drove to Rochester to be with us. What a difference it makes to have reinforcements and support from Tracy and Rich, and of course the energy of four kids under 7 on their first big vacation since Disneyland back in January 2008.

The Towneplace Suites turned out to be a fantastic hotel for the kids with what may be the best hotel pool EVER. Water slides, hot tub, kid pool (with slide and water toys), have occupied three of the four from early mornings until late evening. All three left the pool tonight basically asking for bedtime. We were able to secure the room right across from us for the Huffs, and that has been nice to be so close.

We had a good day today. It was beautiful weather, and we found a state park and had ourselves a good old fashioned picnic. Emily even raced around in the field for wildflowers to adorn the table while we ate. Fresh air did us all good - and we pretty much spent the entire afternoon and early evening outside. Dad seems a bit better today and a bit more stable on his feet (could be due to the increased steroids kicking in, but I think it's largely in part to the grandkids hanging around and a solid dose of fresh air and sunshine). Dad and I made a quick detour to St. Mary's Hospital for a quick visit with the chaplain, and apparently we made an impression on the Irish priest, as the chaplain on duty said, "You're the ones that met Father Byrne earlier, right?" I think we've now met most of the chaplains on duty here in Rochester in the Mayo Clinic system. All very nice folks, as you might imagine.

We will all be sorry to see the Huffs leave Tuesday morning, although appointments kick back in Tuesday and surgery is Wednesday. We still have a full day tomorrow to enjoy, however. It is supposed to be nice weather again, so we'll likely find another park with picnic tables, wildflowers for picking, and playground equipment for the kids. And I'm positive there will be more time in the hotel pool. The three older kids absolutely adore the water, and little Sam (who is 2 1/2) loves to just kick back and relax and kick while he has his life jacket on. And then goes down the big slide with Rich waiting to catch him. Emily had us laughing with a story from breakfast. She saw a man with a bandana on his head sitting at a table across the way. Without missing a beat, she pointed a bit and said, "Arghhhh! Pirate." One never knows what might be said from that little girl. Big laughs on that one from everyone today, including Dad.

A good old fashioned family gathering with focus on just spending time together. Nothing fancy, but it's all we needed. While being at the Mayo Clinic is absolutely the place we want to be, it is difficult to be away from family and friends in Omaha. We hope to be back there early next week after Dad recovers from surgery.

Happy Memorial Day to everyone, and next post will likely be Tuesday after our appointment with the neurosurgeon to talk about more details about the procedure on Wednesday.