Thursday, January 17, 2013

Learning Experience

Trust me, we really have a good winter here at the Davidson house. We have just had a few, maybe, hiccups? Well this week was the biggest. Here's the story:

Monday 11 p.m. - Miles woke up coughing and crying, like he had drainage that he couldn't get out. We got him a drink of water and calmed back down, and put him back to sleep around 12 a.m. He slept until his normal 6:30-7 so we thought he must have just been annoyed overnight. He coughed a few times that morning but nothing too out of the ordinary.

Tuesday a.m. - I called the dr. to tell her about the cough and she said just watch him and use a humidifier, which we already do.

Tuesday noon - I was working so Ben brought Miles to the store to have lunch and get some fresh air. Miles maybe felt a little warm but nothing serious, and the cough wasn't any worse either. Ben then took him home and put him down for a nap.

Tuesday 4 p.m. - Ben called and said Miles slept about an hour and a half but was continuing to get worse as far as coughing/breathing issues. I could hear Miles in the background breathing while Ben was talking to me. I hung up and called the dr. back and told the nurse. She said he needed to be seen same day but they closed at 4:30 and she didn't have any more appts. during that day but she suggested take him to the immediate care in their building. I call Ben back and say I'm closing the store, pick me up and let's head to immediate care.

This is where it gets scary...

He picks me up around 4:15 and I hop in the back with Miles. It was terrible listening to him. We are talking nostrils flaring, chest expanding, neck "sucking in". I told Ben I was having a real hard time because I thought he could turn blue any minute. Of course we get behind a freakin' student driver that is going the same route we are. The kind that sits at stop signs for a looooong time before they go. We pull in to immediate care (practically on two wheels) and I hopped out and went in to tell them what was coming. Ben brought him in and suddenly a nurse pops out (within seconds) and brings us straight back. No paperwork, nothing. They take his oxygen level and listened to his chest. The nurse runs out to get the dr. and another nurse. Miles is hysterical with so many people touching him, let alone just trying to breathe. They give him a breathing treatment which relaxed him a little. The dr. says something along the lines of  "he really needs to go to the e.r., and we would suggest you go by ambulance." The tears started rolling down my face. I couldn't look at Ben. He was shaking as it was trying to remember our name, address and phone numbers for the paperwork.  The next few minutes was the nurse talking us through what was about to happen. The fire department. The emt's. The stretcher. Protocol type of stuff. They all arrived and put me on a stretcher holding Miles. Ben had to sit in the front. Miles, me, and the emt in the back. The emt said "I just want to give you a heads up we are going with lights and sirens on since it is rush hour." I said "if we're gonna ride, let's ride". In other words, I know these "rides" aren't cheap so you best be hightailing it down to 86th street" I gave Miles another breathing treatment and oxygen on the way to Peyton Manning Children's Hospital on 86th. The E.R. room was ready and my mom and Aunt Carolyn were there when we arrived. This time a stronger breathing treatment, Epinephrine. Then steroids. Then ibuprofen for fever. Then another Epinephrine breathing treatment. Finally he was breathing easier. And we were also. They gave us the news that he would be staying overnight, which we were kind of relieved to hear. It took about 3 hours to get into a room. In the meantime my mom and dad entertained Miles to the max. He was up and walking around, throwing plastic ducks around the room, iphone apps, playing trucks, etc.

The hospital wasn't what we pictured a children's hospital stay would be like. As Ben said "this aint no clarian north". We told our same story to 10-15 people during our stay there. I wanted to say "are you not looking at his chart right now?" A doctor could come in and make him hysterical by looking in his ears, mouth, etc. and everything would look clear and within minutes someone different would come in and do the same thing as if they didn't know he had just been checked. Like I said we waited for hours in the E.R. to get an overnight room. We finally are taken to the next floor to our room and we walk by the nurses station and they were all sitting, chatting at the desk, eating sandwiches. I know it was probably not their problem but I'm pretty sure I gave them the stink eye. Then the overnight nurse (I'm totally venting right now) would come in, wake him up, make him cry, try to get his oxygen level, not get it, and say "oh well I don't want to make him any more upset." I was about to come unglued with her, which I don't feel that way about people often. I know she was just trying to do her job but I wanted to say "do you need these stats? if so, you need to get some help so you can get this done. If you don't need them, then leave him alone." When it was all said and done, they did make him better in a relatively short amount of time which I am obviously grateful for. I think everyone was doing their best but at a time like that, from a mom and dads standpoint, their best just isn't quite enough. He did not need any more breathing treatments through the night (thank the LORD) so we were discharged around 7 a.m. with a prescription to give him steroids at home for the next two days. It was awful. All of it. I'm digging deep to find any good out of this. It's a stretch but I guess I'll call it a learning experience. Here is some of what we learned:

-When a baby is involved there is not much waiting, anywhere.
-There is a button in the front of the ambulance for them to change the stoplights.
-Those hospital "pull out couches" are worthless. We would have been better off putting blankets on the floor. The three of us slept on a cot that was not bigger than a double bed. I couldn't put Miles in the hospital "crib". It looked like something to cage wild animals, not for my precious baby.
-Epinephrine breathing treatments cannot be done at home, so if he regresses (like hopefully NOT tonight), we have to go back to the E.R. for another treatment.
-Croup can have a quick onset.
-The virus that causes Croup would just give an adult a cold or a sore throat. Our throats are just big enough to handle a little swelling. Kids under 3 are usually ones who get Croup because they don't have any room in there to spare for swelling.

I will end my rant by saying the nurse and doctor at the immediate care were ANGELS. I'm going to send them a note, and let's be honest, probably a Starbucks gift card for how great they were to us. I've heard people refer to immediate cares as "docs in a box" but not these sweet ladies. They were qualified, quick, and best of all gave us priceless parent advice to just go ahead and take the ambulance. I not only heard their words but more importantly I felt their honesty. The nurse was older and she looked me straight in the eyes and said "kristyn, no matter if you were going to st. v carmel, you can't predict if something would happen in the car, and you'd never forgive yourself." She was so right. I finally got the words out of my mouth to say "he IS going to be alright, right?" She looked back at me and with the most caring look on her face she said exactly what I needed to hear. "Yes."

2 comments:

Laura said...

Oh my gosh- this made me cry imagining how scary that must have been. So glad he's ok. How the heck do kids get croup?? Ugh. You poor things.... Love you!

Ashely said...

You are right there is nothing worse than staying in a hospital with your child. It is exhausting, frustrating, and a time when you feel so helpless. I'm glad Miles is better. Thinking of you guys and hoping for healthier days ahead!