Chandra's Journal
January 1, 2006
Happy New Year!
Leaving Houston was harder than I thought it was going to be. My family only moved once during my life (from Plano to Austin) and I was barely two years old, so I didn’t ever move away from a place where I had a lot of memories as a kid. I can now imagine how traumatic it might be. I really put off packing, probably a psychological thing, because whenever I did pack something away, I would flashback to some memory. When I packed up Canon’s bath toys, I suddenly remembered hiking my pants legs up every night to get in the tub with him, initially to keep a tight rein on his movement so that he didn’t get the brand new scar wet or the central line. I threw away all the adhesive removing foam and swabs that I had collected and smiled when I remembered how supportive everyone was on the guestbook when I was having so much trouble getting all that tape off! (I have filed away the suggestions for the future; so when someone asks how to get stubborn tape off of skin, I can suddenly be Heloise and say, “Have you tried fingernail polish remover? Peanut butter?”) We packed up clothes that fit Creed when we got there and didn’t when we left! We vacuumed up some needles from the Christmas tree, did a couch cushion check that produced a pacifier and some puzzle pieces, and threw away the Mylar balloons from Brent and Sandy that had entertained both of the boys (and Rylan) since we were in the hospital and truly had just reached their maximum entertainment potential since they were floating at about eye-level for Canon. There was so much I wanted to take back with us, but just didn’t have room for. Lucky that memories pack light.
Mom and Danley came down to help me pack what was left and get us to the airport on Friday. There is NO WAY I could have done it without their help! The whole day was so crazy. We had to finish packing, drop off video of Canon post-transplant at the hospital (per Dr. Karpen’s request), pick up a leftover prescription refill, take all the food that we could to donate to the Ronald McDonald House, turn in keys and check out of the apartment, return the rental car, and get to the airport by 1:30, all while taking care of Canon and Creed. The worst part was the airport and the flight, though. From the very beginning, we managed to find the parking garage we needed to be in, but couldn’t figure out how to get OUT of the garage! We went from floor to floor on the garage elevator and couldn’t across to the terminal; I’m sure we looked like mice in a maze bashing their heads into the same cement wall over and over again. Anyway, finally found it and managed to maneuver our way to the check-in lines. When it was my turn I was introduced to the high-tech ‘swipe your license’ check-in system. So, as a seasoned swiper, I go for it, only to see the message pop up on the screen “Welcome, and thank you for using Continental, S. Johnson.” S. Johnson? So, I told the guy behind the counter that I was pretty sure I was not S. Johnson and evidently needed some help. He took my license, punched a few keys on his own computer and said, “Uh, you don’t have a ticket.” I told him that my husband did it all over the phone on Wednesday and I should have all of row 16. He said that he did see a reservation for me, just not an actual ticket, so I would need to get in the ‘ticket sales’ line!
At this point, I’m sweating the time constraint, and my kids are sweating the whole airport experience. So we get in another line to actually buy the ticket (still don’t really know what happened there – something about somebody keying in the wrong discount code). This story could take forever, but basically we buy the tickets, go through security (which with two babies in a double stroller is like performing a circus act… with your shoes off), go down the hall, around a corner, up an elevator, and down another hall to catch the monorail TRAIN to the actual gates. This was not the first time in Houston that I felt like saying, “Excuse me, I’m from Amarillo. Up there trains go “Choo, choo” and carry coal and grain through town. I don’t really speak this city train language.” Anyway, then we go up another elevator and really hustled down a long hallway to get to the gate. We make it to the gate (where my friend Jennifer and her baby Ardyn were sitting cool as cucumbers – only she was calling me on her cell phone worried about me not making it in time. We seriously were there maybe three minutes before they begin to board the plane! By this time, Canon is sleepy and Creed is hungry so they’re both crying pretty good. The lady at the desk would not let my mom help me and the boys down the jet way (which Southwest lets me do, by the way), so I had to carry Creed in his car seat, Canon, Canon’s car seat, and the double stroller down the jet way by myself! It was not the first or last time I left my mom wanting to cry. Thank God a man came to take Canon’s car seat down for me. And I think Jennifer got the stroller; I can’t remember – I just know I was trying not to cry.
I knew the flight would be bad from the get-go. The airplane was tiny – two seats, the aisle, then one seat. I asked the man to put Canon’s car seat in the seat by itself. It was the only arrangement I thought would make sense because I had to sit with Creed to feed him and I assumed Canon would take his nap like he had several times before on flights (I’m sure you can see where this is going), but the flight attendant came down the aisle and said that a child in a car seat could not sit in the single seat. I turned to look at her and tried desperately to think of a polite way to say, “Are you crazy?! You want me to put my two babies by themselves and me sit across the aisle from them?” I think from my face alone she assessed the situation, said, “Are you by yourself?” and when I nodded with tears in my eyes (babies still crying) she reluctantly changed her mind. To make an already long story a little bit shorter, basically everything that could have gone wrong for Canon on the flight did. Creed was okay; once he had eaten he fell asleep. He woke up about ten minutes before we landed and just started playing with his hands. But poor Canon was SO tired, but couldn’t go to sleep, so he just cried and yelled for 90% of the flight. I finally gave up on the nap idea, took him out of his seat and held him and the portable DVD player to let Nemo have a go at making it all better.
During the transition I caught a whiff of a distinct odor coming from my oldest son. You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought. How am I going to change a toddler’s diaper on a tiny airplane, lay him in the aisle? After several deep breaths, I called the flight attendant over and asked her if she could sit with Creed while I take Canon to the bathroom and try to rectify this rancid situation. She told me no, that there was too much turbulence and we all should stay in our seats. Well, I asked her, when I can get up, would you come help me? She said yes. So we sat there and sat there and sat there, me wrestling with Canon and the DVD player in a space no bigger than we were, trying to keep him from waking Creed or kicking the person in front of me… again. By the time the flight attendant came back to sit with Creed, the diaper in question had leaked through his clothes and onto mine. I sped back to the lavatory, closed the door and looked around beginning to think I would need superhuman capabilities like shrinking and growing another two arms to pull this off. Surprise! The first pleasant surprise on this airplane was that they did have a pull-down changing table! Given, it was about as big as a dinner plate, but my other options were the toilet hole or the sink. It took me forever to change that diaper, a good five minutes anyway. Canon was screaming the entire time, tears running down his cheeks into his ears, me trying to console him, contain the mess, and keep my balance all while I was entirely preoccupied with the fact that Creed was out there with a stranger (I saw Flight Plan). We finally made it out of the lavatory with a clean diaper, clean hands, new clothes, and a very tear-stained face. I was very glad to see that the flight attendant was still standing in the aisle next to Creed. I then had to ask her for a plastic bag to put his dirty clothes in (which I forgot to take off the plane with me… Merry Christmas Continental 
). At this point, we were beginning the descent into Amarillo, thank you God! I don’t know how much longer I could have hung on.
When we landed, I passed out apologies for Canon’s behavior to those sitting around us. They were all pretty gracious about it. Jennifer and Ardyn (who was a perfect angel on the flight ) came down the aisle to help out and I just had to bite my lip to keep from crying to her. Being the close friend that she is, she could already tell what I was feeling and was very sympathetic as always. She helped me get the stroller ready and take the boys off the plane one at a time. As we were buckling the boys into the stroller, Drew came walking down the jet way! (I felt like calling the lady at the desk in Houston and telling her, “See, they let us help each other in Amarillo,” but I chalked it up to the fact that Amarillo is smaller and perhaps more willing to let things like that slide to help a mom with two babies.) So, as Drew was pushing the stroller down the hall toward the baggage claim, I was emotionally recounting the horrible experience detail by disgusting detail, with Jennifer nodding sympathetically.
We turned the corner and saw a crowd of people blocking the entire hallway about a hundred yards from security. From where we were we could see balloons and a poster in the middle of the group with Nemo on it! It was our friends! Lots of cameras (including one from Channel 10 that aired a segment showing Canon and our friends and an interview with Drew) were flashing and people cheering and when we met them they just encircled us with hugs and laughter and welcomes. All the kids just hovered over Canon with the balloons and the poster and it only took him a second to realize that the center of attention was exactly where he wanted to be. We put him down on the floor to show off his new stride and as he took a few steps, the whole crowd clapped and cheered for him! He stopped, looked around at everybody and then joined in the clapping and cheering!
It was such a priceless moment, and the stress of the flight seemed to melt away as I realized how blessed we truly are. We were met at home by the people who missed us and prayed every day for us while we were gone. My girlfriends were there to hug me and Drew’s friends were there to show their support and their precious children just wanted to see Canon in person after a month of only seeing him on their computer and praying for him daily. Onlookers would have thought we were having some kind of long-lost family reunion, which is close to the truth. People asked if we thought that Canon still remembered everybody. It was obvious to me that he did; he wasted no time following Dane and Dayton around and entertaining the other kids. I have a feeling this will seem as much like a dream to him as it already does to me. When we were about two blocks away from the house, we could hear Canon in the backseat saying, “Home.” And when we drove up to the house, we saw a huge banner covering our front window that said, “Welcome home Drew, Chandra, Canon, Creed, and Liver!” (Courtesy, I believe, of Rhonda and Jere.) As hard as it was to leave the place that became so meaningful to us, it was so good to be home.
Since then, we have been busy at home trying to find places for all of the boys’ Christmas presents – what a blessed problem to have, and simply trying to get back into our normal routine. I was really looking forward to going to church today, but Creed has had a bit of a cough, so we didn’t want to get him out. We debated just one of us taking Canon ahead, but decided we would just rather be together this weekend. I haven’t been to church in a month and a half, and just can hardly wait to worship with our family there.
The strangest part of all of this is thinking back to where we were a year ago. We have celebrated New Year’s Day every year since we moved here with Brad and Karen Thompson and several other close friends. Last year, we didn’t have any idea that Creed was already on the calendar! And we had just two weeks earlier been to Dr. Young when he noticed the enlarged liver and began the blood work to determine the cause. Little did we know what 2005 had in store for us, the people we would encounter, the places we would go, the lessons we would learn. Who knew that by the end of the year, along with identifying his eyes, tongue, fingers, toes, etc. that he would also be able to point to his liver? How many one year olds can do that?! The year was full of surprises, from finding out about Canon’s liver disease, to finding out about Creed, to learning all about liver transplantation, to the people that stepped up and made the fundraising campaign such a huge success in so many places, to the actual arrival of a liver in the midst of such a miraculous story at the time of year when people are so in tune to miracles. I’ve said this before, but to be sure, Canon will undoubtedly have a heart for miracles and a mission to share life.
Blessings for 2006!
Chandra