Posted by on Jun 17, 2012 in ANDY'S BLOG WITH UPDATES | 515 comments

Donna and I have just come from seeing Aimee this morning and I can report that over the past 48 hours, Aimee has had the most difficult pain she’s experienced through her entire ordeal.


Just to be clear: in my previous post I mentioned that Aimee refused pain medication during dressing changes. The surgery Aimee had on Friday is far more severe than any dressing change imaginable. Aimee is now taking pain medication in as liberal a dose as can be prescribed. If she even dared to refuse taking it, which she wouldn’t, then the doctors would most certainly administer it in an IV drip. Even so, the allowable doses of Morphine, Fentanyl and Lyrica are often inadequate to deal with the pain that Aimee is now experiencing. Please believe me when I say that Aimee’s refusal to use pain medication has ceased following her most recent surgery. She is now requesting it ahead of schedule.


Until now, Aimee’s pain has been focused on her amputation sites, the wound on her left side and, most recently, the her right thigh (the skin donor site). She now has two new pain centers: her abdomen and her groin. During the most recent skin graft, her surgeons were forced to take muscle from Aimee’s abdomen to create a flap over the iliac artery in her groin. She occasionally cries from the pain, but she stops because crying hurts her stomach. She says that she feels like a patchwork quilt, because her body is a collection of skin grafts and bandages.


We have to be careful what we say to her. It hurts her to talk, so she doesn’t want any questions. She doesn’t want to have to think about making decisions or attempt to conjure up a response. She wants and needs a quiet surrounding, but she also wants us to remain in the room with her. Much of our time together is spent simply waiting by her side until she expresses a need, which is not a problem for us. That is one of the many roles we have as her parents. Whatever Aimee needs, her mother and I will be there by her side to provide.


Sometimes she just needs to sleep. This morning we found her resting comfortably for the first time in hours, so we left, drove to Cracker Barrel and had breakfast while she slept. She had the nurse call us while we were there to tell us that she wanted to see us. Parenting on demand. You have to love that.


When we arrived back at the hospital she was visibly suffering from the pain of her surgery. We patiently tended to her, careful to be close by her side and provide her needs, but doing so with tender care. She said she was hungry, but she hasn’t been able to eat for over 24 hours now. She ate after her surgery on Friday, but she had trouble digesting solids and she wound up vomiting up everything during the night. She was concerned that she popped a stitch in her abdomen while heaving, but the doctors assured her that her stitches were intact. Amazingly, although she is suffering immensely, Aimee’s presence of mind is sharp.


She looked at me with sad, raised eyebrows and whispered softly, “Daddy?”


“Yes honey?” I answered.


“Happy Father’s Day,” she said as her sadness wi