So this post is a
little late. I wrote it awhile ago but time has gotten away from me so here is our pre-Christmas adventure.
December 16, 2012
2:45am- Sunday morning, Ethan woke up with labored breathing. His breathes were short and wheezy. He was using everything in his abdomen to catch a breath which caused his ribs and shoulders to show with every breath. We did not panic but took a minute to evaluate if this was short lived, like he was having a nightmare, or it was ER time.
3am- We arrived at the ER. There was one old guy in the waiting room but even if the ER was full, an infant with labored breathing is immediately taken back and given a room. The nurses did exactly what you would expect; take vitals, ask a million questions, hold him down, poke him, prod him, and nebulize him until he finally fell asleep.
The ER nurses said that the night before there were 15 babies in the ER. Half of the infants had panicking parents with children having the sniffles and the other half were babies with RSV, Croup, or other scary infant diseases. At this point, we were neither of these. The staff kept murmuring under their breath, "this is weird."
5am- They tested Ethan for RSV and the flu, both came back negative. I
t was off to X-ray we go. The contraption they put Ethan into was a plastic tube that he sat in (with his feet dangling and his arms above his head) and it strapped shut. If I had no idea what was going on in the world and someone put me into this thing, I would panic immediately and panic until they took me out of it. Our little man fussed for a few seconds then decided to go with the flow and sat patiently while they took pictures of his lungs.
Back to the ER we go.
I've decided that from the few times I've spend in the ER, Emergency Room is a fancy word for wait around for hours while you lay on a plastic, uncomfortable bed, and someone checks on you every-so-often but tells you nothing.
6am- We were told that Ethan would be admitted to Pediatrics but not until after 730am because of the shift change. "The nurses don't want to start a new case at the end of their shift. Just wait a bit and you all will be going to Pediatrics." Oh good, more waiting. I was hoping for that (ha!).
8am- We were transported to Peds and the boredom began. For 4 days, Ethan was given nebulizers, on and off oxygen, had an IV in him, couldn't crawl on the floor, had to play in the "cage of fun" (hospital crib) with all of the tubes connected to him, slept with me in the bed because he refused to sleep in the crib, snorked by the industrial suck tube, and eat rotten hospital food (which he and I both often refused).
I have never seen such fear in his eyes and terror in his cry as when this one (specific) time that he was getting snorked. I could have sworn that the tube hit his brain. Not really, but as far as they stuck the snorker up his nose, they very well could have. I just hoped that snorking was never like THAT again. The scratches on my arms are still healing.
In order to get out of the hospital, they watched his oxygen levels and the issue came when he was sleeping. His oxygen percentage needed to be 93, Ethan was consistent at 90-92. Jason's question was always,
what if that is just his normal oxygen level when he is sleeping when he has shmag in his body? At the time I shrugged my shoulders and thought, maybe, and moved on. But now, I believe it. Ethan's numbers were stable for at least two days prior to release. Those precious two days were days that we could have spent at home in our own beds and in our own environment. Then I think, it's better to be safe then sorry. Maybe. Maybe safe is in our own home.
Ethan was the only child in Peds that wasn't in isolation. So we thought...
Good evening, Nurse Sue. Good evening.
Tuesday evening-I had gone to the kitchen to put away pizza my parents had brought us because we had enough of the hospital food. My recollection of the food we had when Ethan was born (at a different hospital) was much more appetizing then the food we had at the current hospital. I can't emphasize that enough.
Nurse Sue greeted me outside the door as she was about to make rounds into Ethan's room. She asked if we needed anything before she came in, as usual I declined. While sitting in the room waiting for Nurse Sue to enter, Nurse Sue poked her head in again. "Do you need anything before I come in?" Once again I replied no but internally I was thinking,
how odd, you just asked that question a few minutes ago.
Mask. Plastic robe. Bootie shoes over her shoes. My jaw drops to floor. Maybe she's just over protective or hasn't had her shots yet this year...or just creepy. While I cradled Ethan in my lap, she gave him his antibiotic. He spit some of it out and it hit my face, twice. At one point I uttered, as I shifted my face away from my child after being spit on, "ah, that's why you are wearing the mask." Her reply, "that and so that I don't catch what he has."
Wait...catch what?
Once the antibiotic dose was complete, my first question to Nurse Sue, "what do you mean contagious? Ethan's not contagious."
Her reply, very confidently I might add, "Oh yes he is, he has RSV. Everyone admitted here has RSV and that's very contagious and I don't want it."
Myself- "He doesn't have RSV. He tested negative in the ER on Sunday."
Nurse Sue- "Well, yes he does. The nurses were just joking during shift change that everyone has RSV. Would you like me to check his records? He has RSV." Very confidently (again).
Myself (jaw still on the floor)- "Yes. Check your records."
Now!
Fifteen minutes later. FIFTEEN!!! Nurse Sue (poking her head in the door)- "You know what? He doesn't have RSV. How funny!" Door closed and she's gone.
No apology. No "it's ok, he's not contagious. I read the records wrong and my staff are idiots." Nadda. Needless to say, she didn't make an appearance much that night and we saw her assistant. I don't blame her. That tail between her legs must have been quite uncomfortable and caused quite a rash on her unprofessional legs.
We hit the beginning of the nurse rotation a few days in. Some were better then others and some seemed like they were...just there. Most seemed to enjoy their job, as though they were given a purpose in life and taking care of others was why they were here. They treated Ethan with such love and myself (who slept there every night) with respect. Some offered help with Ethan so I could go to the bathroom or brush my teeth, others just asked how they could help as they walked out the door.
Wednesday morning around 9 am, the RN popped in and told us that Santa was making a visit and Ethan is the only one in Peds that isn't in isolation. Remembering that Ethan wasn't thrilled to meet Santa the previous Friday night, how could I say no to the fact that Santa was making a special trip just to Peds and no one was there to greet him. So of course I said Ethan would meet him.
1030am-Santa's visit basically consisted of Ethan's mouth wide open, fear in his eyes, and clinging to me like a baby monkey. Please keep in mind that I have been in a hospital for 4 days with very few showers. As far as Santa goes...it's probably a good thing none of the other kids saw him.
I wish that I had gotten a picture of ALL of the policemen that escorted Santa to the hospital, there must have been 50 of them. They were all very nice and asked how Ethan was doing, how long we were going to be there, how long had we been there, and hoped that we get out before Christmas. I really should have thanked them a few more times for what they do for "us," civilians.
11am (Wednesday December 19, 2012)- We had been told prior to Santa's visit that the new Pediatrician would be in to see us around 11am. A rule I failed to mention previously was that Ethan (for some reason) was allowed to see the Pediatrician only 1 time every 24 hours unless he gets worse. The pediatrician is the only one that can discharge Ethan. So as usual, my anxiety to get out of the jail cell, sorry "hospital room," increased in hopes that we would be discharged. A VERY pregnant woman walks in and very politely introduces herself as Dr "such and such," looks at us directly in the eye and tells us to pack our things and to get the hell out, Ethan's being discharged. Just kidding, she didn't say it like that but the message WAS true, we were freeeee!!!!
"Doc (
i didn't say it like that but it's fun to think so), what IS wrong with Ethan?"- Me
"No one told you? Oh, he has brochiolitis and pneumonia. Basically he has some fluid in his lungs and they are inflamed. Merry Christmas!"- Doc
Merry Christmas to us indeed! I have never moved so fast, even when I had the ball while playing rugby and was trying to get away from very butch women chasing after me down the pitch.
The ENTIRE time we were there one thing never left mind, how do the children and parents battling leukemia or other cancers spend so much of their time in hospitals?! We were looking at a few days, some children spends weeks, months, years, in hospitals. It makes me sad. It makes me angry. It makes me appreciate that what we went through was just a pebble on the side of the road, not even a fully installed speed bump. We are very lucky that it was just a small virus and as we continue to watch him closely, every smile, every crawl, every wave, and every uh-oh that he makes is one step closer to tomorrow. We are so blessed to have such a wonderful sugar plum in our lives and may we continue to be so blessed to have him forever.
March 18, 2013
Since then we have had to purchase a nebulizer and have had to give him treatments about once a month during this ill-filled winter season.
No more trips to the ER, yet.
