This blog is a chronology of our story and should not be used as the basis for medical treatment or diagnosis. From time to time, you will find links to other websites that we have found helpful, however we offer no guarantees as to the accuracy of these websites. At all times, please use your own good judgment and the advice of qualified medical physicians and specialists.

October 7, 2007

Friday, May 28, 2010

PART 2 -- read October 6 first.

We left our hero waiting for the ambulance to arrive. I have vague recollections of cleaning up the “to go bag” that spilled on the floor and starting to walk around the upstairs looking for my socks or shoes or something. I have a flash of walking into the bathroom and not knowing what I was doing in there, and Michael was in the crib whimpering. I said, “Michael, don’t cry,” and the operator kept saying, “no, I want him to cry so I can hear that he is okay.” I tried again to tell him that you shouldn’t hear a kid with a trach, but I’m still not sure he understood me. (I was probably not very clear.)

Anyway, the paramedics (6 of them) arrived. Despite my assurances to the 911 operator, I still think they thought the baby was not breathing. This part of the day is a bit blurry, but the short of it is they had no idea how to reinsert the GTube. They secured the giant catheter by using a ton of gauze around his belly, I gathered his things, and they carried him into the ambulance. (Three bags of stuff – diaper bag, emergency bag, portable suction machine.) He got to ride in a big-boy car seat with some blankets to help him stay upright. He spent the whole time STARING at me and saying, “ahh, ahh, ahh.” He would occasionally cough and wheeze from his congestion, and they couldn’t get an O2 reading, but he was pink. I asked if the pulmonologist could meet us in the ER, and about 1 minute out of the hospital, I finally made one of the paramedics understand what I was saying about the noise he was making, but then we were there.

Michael whined the whole way into his ER room, and wailed when his catheter fell off and when they inserted the new tube and tested it. (They tell me they see this all the time.) The ER doctor also gave Michael some sugar water to suck to distract him and listened to his breathing and vocal sounds. Turns out Dr. K_____ was already at home, and Michael had good O2 numbers, so he didn’t come in. We had to wait a few hours (okay many) for a dye test to be sure the tube was in correctly, and a chest X-ray that we were supposed to come in for anyway. While we were waiting, I tried many times to reach Adam , but no avail. I finally called our friends the E____ family, and they were helpful in agreeing to keep calling Adam's cellphone until they found him and told him where we were. The Doctor also suggested that Michael stay overnight for observation because he had a “rough day” (no kidding!). We agreed, spent the night, and came home the next day.

Michael has moved up on his football calls. He now calls illegal procedures and personal fouls on lots of things. For example, the other day Daddy called illegal procedure on Michael for puking (food wrong way), and a personal foul on Michael for puking ON Daddy. Michael called personal foul on Daddy for sticking the suction tube up Michael's nose to clean the puke. (It’s really more like “holding” – it happens all the time, but Michael felt that it was personal.) Mommy ruled that the personal fouls offset, and there would be a replay of mealtime with a thirty minute delay. (Michael also calls lots of personal fouls on Nurse Angie for tickling his feet and illegal procedures for being late with the food. I guess we need to learn “delay of game” next, eh?)

On Friday, we decided that it was an illegal procedure on the GTube for coming out, and a personal foul on Mommy for making it come out. The penalty speaks for itself. But, I’m glad it happened on my watch, because I know how easily it happened, and if a nurse had done it … well, I probably would not have understood how it was not anyone’s fault. Live and learn.

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