Heaven Is for Real: A Little Boy's Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back by Todd Burpo, Sonja Burpo, Lynn Vincent, Colton Burpo Read Free Book Online Page A

begun sliding shut when Dr. OHolleran appeared in the hallway and literally yelled for us to stop. You cant go! You cant go! His voice echoed in the tile corridor as he waved a sheaf of paper in our direction. Weve still got problems!

    A last-minute blood test had revealed a radical spike in Coltons white cell count, Dr. OHolleran told us when he caught up to us at the elevator. Its probably another abscess, he said. We may have to operate again.

    I thought Sonja was going to pass out right there. Both of us were walking zombies by then and had nearly reached our limit. Colton burst into tears.

    Another CT scan revealed new pockets of infection in Coltons abdomen. That afternoon, Dr. OHolleran and his surgical team had to open up our little boy a second time and clean him out again. This time, Sonja and I werent terrified; the shadow of death had long since passed from Coltons face. But now we had a new worry: Colton hadnt eaten for something like ten days. He had weighed only about forty pounds to begin with, and now he had melted away so that his elbows and knees appeared abnormally large, his face thin like a hungry orphan.

    After the surgery, I brought our concerns to Dr. OHolleran. He hasnt eaten more than a little Jell-O or broth in almost two weeks, I said. How long can a kid go without eating?

    Dr. OHolleran placed Colton in the intensive care unit and ordered extra nutrition for him, administered through a feeding tube. But the ICU bed was as much for us as for Colton, I suspect. We hadnt slept for nearly as long as Colton hadnt eaten, and we were absolutely ragged. Putting Colton in ICU was the only way the doctor could get us to go get some rest.

    Colton will be fine tonight, he told us. Hell have his own nurse at all times, and if anything happens, someone will be right there to take care of him.

    I have to admit, those words sounded like an oasis in a desert of exhaustion.

    We were afraid to leave Colton alone, but we knew Dr. OHolleran was right. That night was the first night since leaving the Harrises home in Greeley that Sonja and I spent together. We talked. We cried. We encouraged each other. But mostly, we slept like shipwreck survivors on their first warm, dry night.

    After a night in the ICU, Colton was moved to yet another hospital room, and the wait-and-see cycle began all over again. When can Colton get out of here? When can we go home and be normal again? Now, though, Coltons bowels seemed to have stopped working. He couldnt use the bathroom, and hour by hour, he grew more miserable.

    Daddy, my tummy hurts, he moaned, lying in bed. The doctor said that even if Colton could pass gas, that would be a good sign. We tried walking him up and down the halls to shake things loose, but Colton could only shuffle along slowly, hunched over in pain. Nothing seemed to help. By the fourth day after the second surgery, he could only lie on the bed, writhing as constipation set in. That afternoon, Dr. OHolleran came with more bad news.

    Im sorry, he said. I know youve been through a lot, but I think weve done everything for Colton we can do here. Were thinking maybe it would be best to transfer him to a childrens hospital. Either the one in Omaha or the one in Denver.

    Between us, wed managed something like five nights sleep in fifteen days. After more than two grueling weeks at Coltons bedside, we had nearly hit the road back to normalwith the elevator doors literally closing, our family inside with balloonswhen the whole thing crashed around us again. And now, our son was back in excruciating pain with no end in sight. We couldnt even see a horizon.

    Just when we thought it couldnt get any worse, it did: a freak spring snowstorm was moving into the Midwest. Within a couple of hours, thick drifts of snow lay piled against the hospital doors and wheel-well high in the parking lots. Whether we chose the childrens hospital in Omaha, eight hours away, or Denver, three hours away, there would be no way