My wife Debbie and I released the first Christmas in the Northwest record album in 1985. That was 21 short years ago. Time flies when you're having fun. Really!
We started working on the album in 1983 when our daughter Alex turned 4 years old. Two years had passed since she had contracted E. coli. Actually the doctors never uttered the phrase E.coli. We didn't hear that word until many years later – during that OTHER famous E. coli scare.
Alex's bout with E. coli wasn't famous. But it was painful.
And like in that other famous outbreak, this E. coli came to her through the courtesy of an undercooked fast food burger.
The diagnosis from our pediatrician Dr. Sandra Griffith was Hemolytic (HEE-mo-LIT-ik) uremic (yoo-REE-mik) syndrome, or HUS, which causes sudden, short-term kidney failure in children. Most cases of HUS occur after an infection of the digestive system by E. coli bacterium, which can be found in all kinds of foods when they are contaminated. HUS develops when the bacteria lodged in the digestive system make toxins that enter the bloodstream and start to destroy red blood cells. In severe cases, this acute kidney failure may require several sessions of dialysis to temporarily take over the kidneys' job of filtering wastes from the blood.
Thank God, Alex never faced that ordeal, though if she had, I'm sure she wouldn't remember. In fact she doesn't remember much about her E. coli episode – except the weekly, then monthly trips to the hospital for blood draws and then ice cream. But Debbie and I remember it well.
We vividly remember taking Alex to the doctor after her flu symptoms didn't get better. When she became listless, and pale. When she would no longer eat, or drink – or even sit up. We remember Dr. Griffith telling us to rush Alex immediately from her office to Children's Hospital and Regional Medical Center in Seattle. She would meet us there.
In 1981 there was no Internet. Medical research was done in labs and medical libraries by studying journals and consulting texts. Dr. Griffith arrived quickly and visited with Alex and us, conferred with her colleagues at Children's and then hunkered down for an in Children's medical library. At about 12:30 in the morning, Dr. Griffith came to Alex's room to let us know that her extensive research had confirmed her gut feeling. That Alex had HUS.
Alex didn't sleep much that first night in the hospital. Nor did we. That "we" includes Dr. Griffith; I don't think she even went home that night.
She and the doctors and nurses and lab technicians – everyone involved in Alex's care offered her very personal attention. And Debbie and I, two very young "freaked out" parents found comfort in the treatment afforded to our daughter and to us.
Alex checked out of Children's on Thanksgiving Day in 1981. She was weak, and pale, but on the mend.
It was a scary time for our family. But it was also a time of comfort because of Dr. Griffith, and the very caring staff at Children's Hospital. When Debbie and I could find some quiet time alone (Alex and her brother Daniel kept us both pretty busy) we would reminisce about our young family's encounter. We would marvel at the dedication and perseverance of our pediatrician, and the gentle treatment we all experienced. We wanted to give back, but weren't sure how.
Then one day we hit on it. We owned a recording studio after all, and knew a lot of musicians. And I've never been afraid to pick up the phone and ask for help. So we rounded up our old and new musician friends and set out on a fund raising journey that is now in it's 21st year, marked by the release of Christmas in the Northwest 9.
Time really does fly when you're having fun!
Happy Holidays,
Steve