We left off with a kid in some serious pain, and that’s how we started Friday. Ick, ick and more ick.
A quick page to anesthesiology and we put him on a continuous morphine drip. That sortof worked until 5am and then the bottom fell out. From about 6-10am he was in horrible pain and had a four hour screaming fit.
After a consult with the anesthesiologist, his nurse, Luke’s nurse, the charge nurse, the NP and the surgeon, we finally found his happy place with a new concoction of pain meds. Yikes.
By noon, he was feeling much better, but his color was horrific. He was as white as his diaper and that is no exaggeration. I knew it was bad by the alarmed look on my NP and nurses’ faces. We drew some blood for labs and his levels were in the toilet. We called for a blood transfusion, hoping that would clear up the problem. And, we put him on a canula tube (oxygen up the nose!) to get his O2 levels above 90%. He did pink up a bit and stayed pretty sedated most of the day. I journeyed home to pick up Will from school, check on the birthday boy, make a run to Sonic for Happy Hour and shower while Scott stayed at the hospital and enjoyed some Luke love.
When I arrived back at the hospital, Dr. Meyer had stopped by and was much happier with Luke’s progress and pain management. Luke even got a much needed blessing by Fr. David Konderla. The doctor ordered a plasma transfusion after looking at his afternoon labs and I managed to get some decent two-hours stretches of sleep a couple of times.
The nights are the toughest. I found myself really missing Scott on Friday night. Not being a family unit in the same zip code is extraordinarily difficult. More difficult than I can adequately express here.
Damn that necrotizing enterocolitis.
The day and evening were made even more cruddy because I was feeling like John Paul got thrown under the bus. It was his big day that wasn’t. He had to stay home from school becuase of his strep throat and we had to cancel his party because of Luke’s hospital stay.
Damn you strep throat.
I am a lover of all things birthday and my heart ached not being able to celebrate John Paul’s entrance into the world. Fortunately, though, John Paul is under the impression that it’s not your birthday until you open presents. Shoot, if that’s the case, I’m going to stay 35 forever and not open a single present the rest of my life.
I love kid perspective.