New best friends

Saturday morning goofing

Bingo

Pint sized

Two weeks

I had to look back in this forum to make sure it's only been two weeks! Yes, two weeks ago today we landed and about this time of day we were settling into our beds with a new number of people under the roof.

I also realized that I didn't quite tell the end of the story on his illness. Time stood still in the hospital, then went triple time when we got out. As it turns out, he had Hepatitis A (the "good" Hepatitis, the curable one at least.) The disease has a 2 to 7 week incubation period so we know that he contracted it while he was still in the orphanage. It was just coincidence that he got sick when we got him and with all the other variables we thought it was either carsickness or the change in food that made him vomit and be so lethargic. But actually we feel very fortunate to have gotten him out of the country when we did. He was a very sick little boy and needed immediate medical attention--the first world kind.

And since that day that he broke free he has not looked back. He is feeling 100% better and, although his liver enzymes are still elevated, there is no external indication that he is anything but 100% healthy. (And he is not contagious.)

Cindy and I were talking tonight, amazed at how we got this kid who is absolutely perfect for our family. He laughs easily, loves people, goes headfirst into everything ahead of him, and likes to stay busy. He wrestles with Mason and loves that Kenzie mothers him. He just has a big personality and we all love being around him. His giggle is infectious.

The English is getting easier. He seems to understand a lot of what we say, and he's picking up on key phrases like "what is this!??" (with his arms stretched out, hands pointed up in seeming dismay).

He has completely bonded to us, to Cindy in particular. Although he loves to go to new people and be affectionate and play, he doesn't like her too far out of his sights. The social worker at the orphanage had told us that he really wanted a family, and that seems to be true. It seems like he is very happy to be part of us and all of the dimensions that brings. He is six, and sometimes we see a little fit if he doesn't get his way, but the vast majority of the time is just easy with him. Busy, but easy. I feel like I should be knocking on wood when I say that, but it wouldn't be honest to say anything different. We had prepared ourselves to go into lockdown mode for the first couple of months and not introduce him to many people, allowing him to bond and really know who his family is. But that has not been our reality. We run in multiple directions all week long, and he just goes with it.

We remembered back to the first time that we saw his picture. There was something in those eyes. Before we saw that picture we were worried about the range of kids that we might get that might be hard to fit into our family. What if he doesn't want to be a part of our family? What if he wasn't fun-loving? What if he didn't like to stay busy with us? What if he wasn't very social? What if he didn't like sports?!?! And, because these are things you can't pick with your own biological child, we knew that it was too much to ask to try to specify exactly what we were hoping for.

But, if we had been able to put it on a piece of paper, we would have described Ermias.

 

New perspectives

Adaptive and resilient

Ermias is amazingly adaptive. He shows no signs of sadness or stress. He is giggly and cracks jokes at just about every turn. He loves to pretend that he's asleep, closing his eyes and fake snoring in the middle of anything, particularly when he needs just a little bit of attention. He loves that we call him "Injera Boy" and pumps his fists in the air to own it. 

He greeted me at the car last night, I handed him a bag. He said "injera, no?" U nodded and he instantly and excitedly said "oh good job!"

He put on 3 pounds in a week. Watching him eat, it's no surprise. He eats massive quantities...massive...and also is started to experiment a bit with things like peanut butter and popcorn. We are still serving traditional Ethiopian food at three meals, but are encouraged that he's becoming curious. The nutritionist was right. She told me to give him a couple of weeks of food that felt comfortable to him, not have it be a battle between us, and he would be influenced by the kids around him. 

He has now been to two bouncy houses and has zero fears there, even though three days ago he had never seen anything even remotely similar. He embraces our friends with an open heart, hugging and laughing as quickly as he can. 

Nights are easy. He goes to bed with either Kenzie or Mason, and if he needs to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, he does, then puts himself back to bed. 

English evolves every day. He now practices with the kids and uses the English word before the Amharic one if he knows it. He doesn't know many yet, but the list grows every day. 

He is amazingly comfortable and affectionate. When I came home last night he gave me two big hugs and huge smiles. Kenzie and Mason each love him and care for him in their different ways. Kenzie is a Big Sister caretaker, quickly making a meal for him or taking him to the bathroom. Mason also cares for him but is anxious to play with him at every turn. Church this week was fun to watch. Each kid took one of his hands and together they led him through the maze of people until he was comfortable enough on his own to run free. 

We keep waiting for it to be harder than it appears to be. After our little four-day stay in the hospital, he has quickly integrated into our family. 

Brothers

Mason and Ermi dressed themselves today. 

first videos

Here are the first videos we saw of Ermias in the ophanage.

Not bouncey

Injera

This kid as a new nickname: Injera. It's the first thing he says in the morning. There's nothing he loves more. We went to an Ethiopian grocery store and somehow talked the owner into giving him his own piece in a bag. He carried it around all day. Happiness. 

Monkey see, Monkey do

Time stands still

He spent Saturday night in his own bed. The next night he was up sick all night. The next night he was in the ER. And tonight he's in the hospital bed. I think that means it's almost Wednesday.

I'm not exactly sure how we got here. He wasn't eating much, but we thought that was adjusting to new food. He wasn't keeping much down, but we thought that was all the change he was going through, including new car and airplane rides. We had a previously-scheduled doctors visit for Monday morning and she told us to watch for dehydration and to call if he wasn't drinking more by end of the day. Later when we did she said "skip urgent care, take him to the ER for fluids." He really hadn't woken up all day...which we thought was jet lag. 

So Cindy took Mason to soccer because I said "I'm going to run him up for some IVs and we will be home later." Somehow, once I walked into the ER room, things started spinning. They were very concerned. Here you have a frail six year old, straight out of Africa, who hasn't really eaten in five days, and has been puking pretty consistently through that time. The doctor came in and said "we are admitting him." I was confused. 

They said he needed to be at Childrens but wasn't stable enough to even get in an ambulance. His glucose was at 36, which is very low. Other levels were low too, and his liver markers were high. They said things like "risk of seizure/coma/death" as if it's all one long word. Things got scary very quickly.

I felt terrible for this poor little guy. He has no way of knowing why we are in the hospital. I asked for an interpreter and they found one on the phone. She was unhelpful at best. He was confused as to why someone was barking at him through a computer and wouldn't respond. But I asked her to please assure him that these are doctors trying to make him feel better. 

They needed to do an IV. Two nurses came in, one to hold him, the other to put the IV in. He offered up his arm and seemed to understand our gestures telling him what was about to happen. He barely winced as the IV went in. I thought his face said "I'm from freaking Africa, people, what's the big deal?" Both nurses were astounded at how easy he was. 

Then the had to do the second IV because of all the stuff they needed to pump into him. He offered up the other arm and this time the nurse asked me to hold him, realizing we weren't going to have to restrain this kid. It went in easy and besides a little air slipping in quickly between his gritted teeth, he didn't show any pain.

It took hours of pumping him full of fluids plus sodium, glucose, and other nutrition in a bag. Finally they said he was safe to travel, then did one more glucose prick (he slept through three of the four pricks), and his levels had dropped again. Still unsafe to travel. More glucose, more trying to explain this craziness to this little 40 pound boy on the big white bed. 

At some point, maybe 1AM, the ambulance came. We had to wait for a bit because they needed an RN in the car. I later learned they worried they were going to have to do intubate. 

The clinical view of this kid and the physical view of him were very different. He would wake up and seem "fine," but his labs presented him as a very sick kiddo. I realized I've only had this little boy for a week and I really don't know him that well. Clearly he is tough as nails on the outside, belying what's going on inside. Then it hit me...he truly is an Averill male, with all the machismo that goes with it. 

The RN on the ambulance was such a nice man. He noticed Ermi's prized Spider-Man, a gift David and Daniel had given him earlier and was now his new best buddy--he sang him the Spider-Man song and Ermi seemed amused. A big bald white guy singing a silly song...it earned a smile and I was grateful. In the back of the ambulance he offered his phone with YouTube videos of old Spider-man shorts to entertain him on the ride. It worked. Soon we were at Childrens. 

They were ready for us and started a battery of tests. One of the doctors wrote a long list on his bed sheet. I counted. There were 14 tests on this "initial list." They explained that the list of what could be ailing this little guy is very long, and it will take some time to sort through it. I thought they meant hours, but at some point I realized they meant days. 

We stayed in the ER all night. The floor unit wouldn't let us come up. They were alarmed of his lab results and said he needed more observation than they could give and he needed to stay under the careful watch of the ER docs. 

Ermi became hungry. After rejecting Saltines, Graham crackers and Cheerios, he started eating white bread. The ER nurse did a happy dance for him and he again smiled. I again was grateful to see our happy boy still in there. 

He eventually ate nine pieces of bread, drank lots of water, and the ER docs convinced the floor docs to come look at him--the physical and the clinic view are so different. They did and by 7AM we had a new home on the fourth floor.

They were unable to find a vein beyond the two IVs and, after many dry sticks, I said "enough, I can't let you do that anymore." They had called in the special team but his little veins weren't making themselves. Eventually they got all the blood they needed from the IVs.

The doctors and nurses are amazing and so many went out of their way to make a connection with this sick little boy. His smile became more frequent as they blew up gloves as balloons and found different ways to be silly and make him smile. 

We have had two in-person Amharic interpreters. These women have been so compassionate and helpful. We have been able to explain what's going in and hear from him the same. He told one that he likes it better here than Ethiopia, and that warmed my heart. 

He slept most of the day and, as everyone knows, stays in the hospital consist of meeting doctors, waiting, having tests, and waiting for doctors. Repeat. 

Cindy was able to spend the afternoon and early evening. Ermi's face lit up when they delivered a big tote of toys. Legos, bubbles, Play-doh--all his favorite things in one place. We played and realized once again what an amazing kid this is. He is six. He sits in the big hospital bed and entertains himself for hours. He is stubborn, don't get me wrong, but he is incredible through this. I don't think if I were in his shoes I would be such a great patient. The interpreter sat with him while Cindy and I ran to Starbucks for dinner. When we came back they were coloring together. 

So we wait. Yesterday he continued to throw up everything he consumed (except the bread in the ER). He hasn't pooped in days but they don't think there's an obstruction. They're worried about the liver. That's about all we know. Except that today will be more meeting of doctors, more tests, and more waiting.