Hello From 4 West

Pablo was admitted to CHLA 30 minutes ago. We are on 4 West, our home away from home. It's been a few months since we last stepped foot up here, so it was a bit of an odd homecoming when we bum-rushed our friends who run the joint.

Of course they knew we were coming cos our other friends in the ER called and told them.

If my mind serves me (and I'm not so sure it does), today is our first double-back in the entire 13 month run. We went home from the ER, as I mentioned in the previous post. 15 minutes after our return, P and I went downstairs to get ready for bed. He put on his blue camouflage dinosaur jammies (they are ill fitting since he's growing so fast), and we cruised into his bathroom to brush his teeth. As he was rinsing, he began to cough heartily, and persistently. A blood clot came out. He started to cry, and continued to spit up more blood. Thankfully, the second round was basic blood + mucous. Jo Ann rushed down, and picked him up and took him to bed. He said he felt fine, and she wanted to get him to sleep.

Thing is, his coughing would not slow down. And he started to call out pain in his chest and in the back of his right lung. Jo Ann told me to call the CHLA on-call oncologist, and minutes later, she was on with him. He instructed us to come back immediately.

Grady and Patricia helped gather our hospital essentials as Jo Ann and I changed out of our pajamas and got dressed again. The car flew through the streets. Pablo was crying and moaning the whole way here. The pain in his body did not let up. As we pulled into the ER entrance on Vermont Avenue, I heard Pablo's voice from the back seat. 'I've never felt this way Mommy,' he said.

Moments later we were inside the ER, back in the same room, with the same nurse and the same doc.

Minutes after he and Jo Ann laid downl, Pablo said his tummy hurt. I grabbed a kidney-shaped bin, and Jo Ann turned Pablo's body toward me as I thrust the bin under his chin. A massive wave of stuff came up - some on my hands and legs and a lot on the floor. At least half of it was blood. The ER doc walked in just as this was going down.

Inside I freaked the f*** out. I looked at Jo Ann. Her eyes locked into mine. Her look was telling me to hold on, to hold strong, to breathe. We've gotten good at this non-verbal communication. She continued to hold Pablo in her lap, and continued to comfort him and soothe him.

That scenario was our one-way ticket to the floor, as they say around here.

And the floor is where we'll be until we can figure our way out of this maze. It's another maze and we will find a way out. There is no way we won't. Pablo is a wonderful and wondrous guide through any curves that life has to offer. Look where he's taken us so far. The dude knows what's up.

Tonight, both Jo Ann and I are sleeping here. There's no way for one of us to be at home, away from Pablo.

That's all I've got. Will update tomorrow when there's info.