Cody Badalato

December 7, 2008
1 AM
I’m in bed, I hear Cody yell my name. I come running out of the bedroom, he’s gasping for air. He can’t seem to get air into his lungs. I sit him down and pull out his brother’s albuterol (Asthma Medicine) and give him a few puffs. His lips are turning blue, I can hear him trying to squeeze the air into his lungs. I run for the phone and dial 911. As I’m running back, I hear him collapse before I return (within a few seconds). He’s now unresponsive but still attempting to breathe. I begin giving him respiratory breathes, hoping to feed him oxygen. Kelly has taken over the 911 phone call and is communicating. The sheriffs arrive first, they are unable to perform any treatment. They place Cody on his side and relay that he is still breathing, although not very effectively. He is still unresponsive. Brandon has woken up and calls his Mom and relays the information. The EMT’s finally arrive, it seemed like days, it may have been 20 minutes, I’m not sure. They begin bagging respirations. It does NOT seem to be working very well. He tries readjusting, he checks his airway, it is clear on top. He looks perplexed, why isn’t more air getting in. They continue do checks on the monitor, O2 at 88%. Cody is placed on a board, tied and carried to the ambulance. They begin transport to Los Robles Hospital. Steph is right behind the ambulance and we can see into the rear. Cody’s heart stops, they are performing CPR on their way to the Emergency Room.

At some point, he is intubated. He arrives at the hospital, they attempt to stabilize him. He is still unconscious. They take x-rays and perform an MRI. They discover a mass (growth) around Cody’s heart. The mass was pushing Cody’s respiratory organs around and squeezing his airway, causing him to lose consciousness, causing his airway and heart to fail. His heart failure has had various impact on various organs. Cody is flown by helicopter to UCLA Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. Brandon and Tanner are driven home to try and relax. Steph and I drive to meet Cody at UCLA.

Cody is stabilized, probbed, prodded, injected, inserted and unresponsive. He has CT scans, EKGs with 24 hour camera monitoring, MRIs, xrays, and every possible monitoring system. Machines continue to breathe for Cody. Cody’s entire body is cooled via IV, essentially icing his entire system from the inside.

Steph, being mom and nurse, monitors and takes total control of his room, making sure his every need is met, making sure everyone is paying attention to every monitor and every response. She will not let up. She will not leave his side.

We encourage Brandon and Tanner to carry on with their regular routines, to play basketball to go to school - any diversion from their big brother. Kelly does her best to provide a happy environment, to keep a normal space. I join them for dinner to help normalize the situation. We are trying not to tell them too much, as we don’t have a lot of answers at this point. Some of their friends have already heard the news and have sent them text messages. They are asking enough questions now to realize the impact. We continue to normalize their environment. I tuck them in for good night and kiss them a hundred times, then repeat 10 minutes later. I’m able to fall asleep for a bit.

Steph and Dave spend the night with Cody. Aunt Carmen visits most of the day and through part of the evening. Mickey visits through the day.

At this point, we have 2 critical problems.
1. Cody’s heart failure has had a negative impact on his brain. No one knows to what extent, if it is reversible, if it is permanent. CT scans may show some information, but in young healthy people like Cody, even a negative CT scan can be turned into a healthy boy.
2. The mass in Cody’s respiratory area is still there. It’s probably been there for many months. It has now been discovered and must be removed. What is it? How we we access it? Can we put Cody’s system under more stress?

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I can’t possibly express the feeling of being awoken to your son failing to breathe. I’m still amazed he was able to wake up and call out to me for help. I believe he has more purpose for being here. He has so much good to spread into this world. He will recover.

December 8, 2008
Steph continues to monitor Cody’s bedside. Cody has some setbacks, his numbers are bouncing around, his blood work is acidic, they take him off the ice, put him back on the ice, change his meds. He stabilizes. He gets another CT scan. His eyes respond to light, he has some local response to pain. Aunt Laurie arrives for more support.

We learn the likely candidates are leukemia, lymphoma and some type of fast growing malignant tumor. How could Cody have played an entire football season without any impact? He’s stronger than an ox, he will prevail again.

His CT scan comes back clean. This is good news, but still doesn’t tell us the extent of any damage, it only tells us there is not negative results. Good news, nonetheless.

Kelly and I force Steph to leave his bedside for the first time. She’s back within a few hours. Gram and Pop arrive from NY.
Cody gets a bone marrow sample taken to try to determine what the mass might be and how to tackle it.

By 9pm, it is decided that Cody needs to rest. No more talking to him, no more touching him, just some peace from all the interaction. We are certain he will be yelling at all of us in no time for too much touching, talking in his year, kissing him incessantly.

Steph wants to make sure that you kiss your children, RIGHT NOW! That you express your love, that you blow off the little things in life, that you take advantage of the present moment.

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No visitors at this time, just thoughts and prayers. I will do my best to keep you updated through this blog.