Calm After the Storm
In Summer 2005, Leland underwent major surgery on his knee. By autumn, he was
well enough to start physical therapy. Due to new bleeds in other joints, he
had a lot of stops and starts, but he made slow, steady progress. At that
point, Leland had been in continuous pain for over a year, but we noticed that
both his bleeding and his pain were beginning to lessen slightly. Through the
holidays, things continued to get a little bit better. It was hard not to get
our hopes up.
Then in January, he took a major step backward, as the knee started bleeding
again. Leland’s pain level again went through the roof. He was in the hospital
on IV morphine for two weeks, but it barely helped. When he came home, he was
confined to bed for two more weeks, taking OxyContin and Oxycodone.
Leland was in even worse shape than before. He had lost all of the progress he’d
made in physical therapy. Taking baby steps, we had come so far—only to have
our progress yanked away. We were all very disheartened. But as tough as this
was on all of us, Leland was hit particularly hard emotionally. After finally
seeing light at the end of the tunnel, he had very suddenly been pushed
backward.
During this time, our doctors recommended we infuse Leland on
the days he was scheduled for physical therapy. This is generally not
recommended in cases like Leland’s, because he has an inhibitor and the factor
concentrates we use don’t stay in his system very long. Not having done
a schedule before, I admit that at first we didn’t do a very good job of
sticking to it. But, after the
setback in January, we were much more diligent.
Throughout February and March, he was gradually having fewer breakthrough bleeds
and the neurogenic pain was lessening. We had been down this road before only
to backslide, so we were trying not to be overly optimistic. But at the end of
March, we had a defining moment. Leland had been on numerous medications for 17
months continuously—Neurontin for the neurogenic pain and other narcotics for
the more acute pain. The doctor in charge of Leland’s pain management suggested
that he go off ALL his medication. We shouted, “Hallelujah!”
Another big turning point occurred when Leland got back on the school bus. I
know for some people that might sound trivial, but that has been a benchmark
during this trying time. For Leland, this meant that he was independent enough
to take the bus, that he was walking, and that he would spend the majority of
the day in school, though he was limping and still had low-level pain.
Physically, it was a big indicator of how much better he was doing. But just as
important, the fact that he could join in with the rest of his peers—even if
only doing something mundane like getting on the bus—made a huge difference
emotionally.
By mid-April, Leland was doing well enough that we wondered if we could dare go
on a family outing to New York City for the weekend. That was something we
hadn’t been able to plan for a long time. There would be a lot of walking
around, but we decided to try it, and limit our walks, infuse every day, and
carefully monitor how Leland was feeling.
Just being able to simply plan a trip for our family that had some physical
component was a huge boost for all of us. Not only did it remind us of how
things “used to be,” before pain became a regular part of Leland’s life, it
also reassured us about the future. After a year and a half of canceling plans
and sticking close to home because Leland felt so lousy, the trip was
liberating. And my husband and I were even able to go away for our 20th
anniversary, which was wonderful. I wish I had some great answer about what the
exact turning point was, or some explanation that might help another family who
is dealing with similar issues, but I don’t. I do know that to have gotten this
break is a wonderful gift and we’re appreciating it every day.
Every time Leland has a new bleed, I still find I’m holding my breath a bit,
wondering if and when the pain is going to kick in. There was a recent bad
bleed in his elbow that lasted two weeks. The joint was very swollen and locked
at a 90-degree angle. I thought that would’ve triggered the pain avalanche, but
it never came. Leland did have some minor pain but that proved manageable with
regular Tylenol.
Since March 23, he’s been on no pain medication at all, and his bleeds
and the accompanying pain have continued to taper off. Even the acute pain
associated with active bleeds has lessened. I think that’s because Leland had a
break—a chance to recharge emotionally—and his coping skills are much better. I
am also happy to say that he seems to have come out of this with an increased
sense of responsibility and maturity. Leland has more appreciation for the days
he feels well. I am proud that, at 13, he can see the positives associated with
a tough experience.
We had gotten to a place where we thought that chronic pain would be part of
Leland’s daily life, at least for the foreseeable future. Yet, his bleeds and
the accompanying pain have continued to taper off and we don’t know exactly
why. Whatever the reason, we are extremely thankful.