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2003 Journal Links

Oct 26th - Archie is born
Oct 31st - Today, Archie is five days old
Nov 1st - We called the NICU at 3 a.m.
Nov 3rd - Archie's billirubin is down
Nov 4th - Today was Archie's due date
Nov 6th - Yesterday was the most trying day of our lives
Nov 9th - I think we knew that something
Nov 11th - Good day, bad day
Nov 13th - Archie looked great this morning
Nov 16th - If prayers were audible...
Nov 18th - I got to hold my son today
Nov 19th - John is back working again
Nov 20th - Archie slept all day
Nov 22th - I think I know what it’s like to be deaf
Nov 24th - Archie decided to stop fighting the ventilator
Nov 27th - Thanksgiving At the NICU
Nov 28th - John held Archie tonight
Nov 30th - If Archie doesn’t like something, he let’s you know
Dec 3rd - Archie will go for his first plane ride
Dec 5th - Tomorrow Archie will travel to Charleston, to the city where his father was born
Dec 8th - We got up extra early
Dec 10th - Although I spent the entire day at the hospital...
Dec 14th - The doctors attempted to extubate Archie twice
Dec 15th - We’re going to buff ‘em and shine ‘em up
Dec 17th - Santa Claus introduced himself to Archie today
Dec 18th - Archie is doing well
Dec 19th - Archie is continues to do well
Dec 23rd - It is Tuesday morning
Dec 26th - “Are you sure you’re Archie Moore?”

2004 Journal Entries

Jan 4th - John is holding Archie and feeding him his bottle
Jan 11th - We dressed him in a light blue sleeper
Jan 14th - Oh, how I've missed Days of Our Lives
Jan 18th - Patient & Family Satisfaction Improvement Survey
Jan 20th - Archie discovered his hands last weekend
Jan 15th - Babies like this
Jan 29th - Archie Moore is a flirt
Feb 11th - I'm watching Archie study his fist
Feb 23rd - Guess who gained eleven ounces his first week off Portagen?
Mar 2nd - My throat began feeling raw yesterday afternoon
Mar 10th - Tummy Time
Mar 15th - I hate those machines!
Mar 31st - Archie was not interested in his early intervention therapies today
Apr 13th - Well-baby check-up
Apr 21st - Today Archie's world got a little bit bigger
May 7th - It's difficult to write
May 30th - I took Archie to the CDS yesterday
Jun 20th - I know I don't update my journal as frequently as I once did
Jun 29th - We Achie to Budka's
Aug 26th - Archie fights sleep with a fierce tenacity
Sep 12th - Yeah, I know. I need to post more
Oct 26th - Today you are one


Archie Moore is a flirt
by Anne Moore

Archie Moore is a flirt. Or maybe "social butterfly" would be a better way to describe how the little man acts towards his visitors. Which ever explanation you prefer, the baby is definitely beginning to develop his own, charming personality.

Today, as Archie's nurse listened to his heart and lungs, he interacted with her, clicking his tongue and contorting his face into all sorts of different expressions. She spoke to him, too. "Is that so?" she asked. "Well, how about that."

She and I talked about the baby's feeding schedule, his wet diapers, the frequency of his bowel movements. And then we talked about Archie's wild hair and how it looks like thin flames leaping from his brow. Sitting on my lap, Archie even balanced his head for a while, turning it from side to side, showing off his company. The baby and I are beginning to look forward to the nurse's weekly visits, as homebound as we are.

Archie gained 2.5 ounces over the past week. Not bad considering yesterday morning's feedings were a wash, interrupted by a visit to the Children's Hospital for a doctor's appointment.

My mother spent the night Tuesday so that she could help me take Archie to the hematologist/oncologist's office Wednesday morning. Because the less-traveled roads were still glazed over with ice, we knew we'd need to allot extra time for the drive into town.

An hour after we left our driveway, my mother guided her car into the parking garage outside Greenville Memorial Hospital's Cancer Treatment Center. She had dropped Archie and me off at the revolving door one hundred yards away. I stood inside, balancing the baby's car seat on the back of an overstuffed chair, holding his oxygen tank in my other hand. As soon as my mother joined us in the lobby, we three made our way to the doctor's office on the second floor.

The woman who greeted us at the receptionist's desk as me if Archie had already had his heart surgery. She wanted to know what it was like as her daughter's firstborn was scheduled for surgery at MUSC sometime this spring. Not wanting to frighten her with details specific to Archie's case, particulars her grandchild may be spared, I edited my comments. "It's was the most difficult day of my life," I offered. "But MUSC is fantastic, and the surgery made such a difference for Archie. He's a brand-new baby."

After we checked in, we were sent downstairs to register and then to have blood drawn for the baby's CBC. During admission, the registrar was unable to find the baby's records on her computer. "And he was born at Greenville Memorial?" she asked.

"Yes," I told her. "He was in the NICU for 41 days."

"Is it John F.?"

"No," I responded. "John A." The registrar shook her head. I think she was getting flustered.

My mother interjected. "You should try Archie." I agreed. During his time in the NICU, the baby was so well known that all of his records were filed in a folder simply titled "Archie."

"Here he is," the registrar reported, smiling. "Archie. Date of birth is ten-twenty-six-oh-three."

After completing the admission's process, we were sent down the hall to the lab. "Second door on the right," the registrar instructed. "Don't go in the lab with the 'Adult' sign. Go in the lab with the 'Pediatrics' sign on the door."

The lab technician was wonderful, explaining each move she made. She worked Archie's heal as he, crying, buried his face in my chest. "Is fine, baby boy," she cooed. "I'll be through soon."

"O.K., Mom and Grandma," the technician said. "Do you see all of those Band-Aid boxes on the counter behind me?"

I nodded my head. "Ummhmm." The counter was lined with Band-Aid boxes filled with cartoon characters and colorful designs.

"Which one would Archie like to wear today?"

"I don't know," I said, laughing. "What's popular among the three-month olds these days?"

She smiled. "I'll give him Elmo."

Back in the doctor's office, the nurse taking the baby's stats asked me what church my husband and I attended. I told her. She smiled. "Me, too. And he's been on my prayer list. I knew, too, that he was one of our patients."

I thanked her and told her about Archie's surgery. "Celestial intervention, they said," I explained. "So thanks for the prayers." We smiled at each other then.

When Dr. Stroud came into the exam room, he seemed genuinely excited to see Archie. He told me about the conversation he had with the hematologist/oncologist at MUSC, about how he educated them on Archie's case. "They were panicked," he reported. "I told them to relax."

"They were worried about the leukemia. No one really knew what would happen during surgery," I offered. "You should have seen them when they finally came to talk to us. Archie's cardiologists seemingly appeared from no where, and listened to them talk with their arms folded."

"I know it," he responded. "I know."

I offered to put Archie on the exam table, but Dr. Stroud said that he'd be happy to exam him as he sat on my lap. "Hello, Archie! How are you?" the doctor asked.

Archie opened his eyes wide.

"Do you remember me? I'm the bone marrow guy."

"Gaaaa!" Archie answered. He clicked his tongue at the doctor. Everyone in the room laughed.

The baby's CBC showed that the white blood cell count is now at 10,000, significantly less that it was when Archie was in the NICU, and less, too, than it was when he was in the PCICU. With his blasts at only four percent, the doctor concluded that the trend seems to indicate that Archie's leukemia is transient. "Come back in April and we'll check again," he said. He gave me a "thumbs up," and I, smiling, returned the gesture.

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