Hey 2012, can we start over?
Poor Avery's "winter cold" hung around throughout the week, with the deep cough and fever holding their ground. By Thursday, I decided that Josh and I had missed enough work, Avery had had enough Tylenol and surrendered for a trip to the doctor.
Even though Avery wasn't feeling good, she managed to exclaim, "Yay! Doctor's office!" as we pulled into the parking lot. Not sure why she was excited, but she received a little toy doctor's bag as a gift recently and we have been practicing with the stethoscope, thermometer, and otoscope at home to try to make her comfortable with the doctor's exams. I guess it has worked! She was an absolute ANGEL at the doctor's office. She sat quietly and let the nurses and doctors do all their examining without protest.
The doctor suspected bronchitis or pneumonia, so he decided to prescribe an antibiotic along with a nebulizer (breathing machine) so we could do breathing treatments at home. The nurse helped me administer the first treatment in the office, so I would know how to use it. Avery was so good about keeping the tube in her mouth to inhale the vapors. The treatment only lasted a few minutes, and the doctor said he would return when we were finished to check her airways. In the interim, she fell asleep on my lap.
My first thought was, "Oh my gosh! I had better get a picture of this with my phone. Josh will never believe she fell asleep on my lap! And it's not even naptime yet!"
After a little time passed, I started to contemplate that it wasn't as amazing as it was disturbing. Avery hasn't fallen asleep on my lap since she was an infant, and I realized it was a sign of just how awful she was feeling. Her food and liquid intake had been slowly diminishing over the previous three days, down to the point where she was refusing almost everything we would offer her. By the afternoon, she had napped several more times and we decided it was time to take her to the ER to get some intravenous fluids.
After SIX HOURS in the waiting room in a cramped chair, with Avery asleep on my lap again, we finally got a room to see the doctor. My mom had brought us starving parents some food and stayed with us until we were settled in our room. (Thanks Mom!) by that time it was midnight, and we were hoping to get her a bag of IV fluid and get home by 2:00 or 3:00 am at the latest. (My original far-fetched fantasy involved us arriving at the ER at 6:15 pm and being home by 10:00 for bed... During flu season...HA!)
What happened the rest of the night is pretty much a blur. Tons of nice nurses and doctors, IV fluids, blood tests, x-rays, oxygen masks, heart rate and blood pressure and blood oxygen monitors... And not fun to see your little one like this:
Around 3:00 am Friday morning, I sent Josh home to get some sleep so at least one of us wouldn't be completely worn down. Then I tried to curl up on the end of Avery's hospital bed, still wearing the same dress and sweater I had put on at 6:30 am for work on Thursday morning. Shortly after he left, I got the unsettling news that Avery was probably going to be admitted to CHOC due to her low blood oxygen levels.
Time seemed to be going backwards. I couldn't sleep, and started to get cold, shaky and nauseous from lack of sleep and nutrition, and from the intense amount of worrying. By 7:00 am, I was hunched over the end of her bed holding a bedpan, and begging the nurse to let me have some medicine. (One parent has to stay with the child at all times, so I wasn't allowed leave Avery's side to go to the pharmacy, and I couldn't be administered medicine since I wasn't the patient). Sooooo... They admitted me to the ER too. I didn't get a bed (as much as I wished for one), just a visit from the doctor and a nice dose of drugs so that I could once again turn my attention back to Avery.
At approximately 8:00 am, the paramedics whisked in with a stretcher to place a patient in the bed next to Avery. I had my eyes closed and didn't see who was on it, but one of the EMTs started giving the run-down to the ER nurses, so I unfortunately got the full story. The basic synopsis is that the 6 year old boy named Jeremy was a victim of strangulation in 2009 (when he was 4 years old), had suffered brain damage as a result and was placed into an assisted care facility. On this night he had started seizing and was rushed to the ER by an ambulance. He wasn't breathing, and multiple nurses rushed into our room to put tubes down his throat, suction his lungs and try to revive him. The worst part was, he was there all alone. From what I could gather from the nurses' conversation, a parent wasn't there because the parent was presumably in jail for putting him in this condition. The image of his thin, pale, lifeless legs sticking out from behind the curtain just a few feet away from my peacefully sleeping Avery is one I shall forever wish I can erase from my memory. Still hunched over my bowl, I broke into sobs. Here I was, sacrificing my time, sleep, my health, my money; everything I could possibly imagine for my child without a second thought (and who wouldn't?) and then along comes this painful reminder that there are, in fact, many horrible people in the world who wouldn't. As my heart broke into a thousand pieces, I decided I won't be so hard on myself the next time I feel guilty for being a "bad mom" and dropping Avery off at daycare so I can go to work.
Fortunately, a bed became available and nurse came to put us in a wheelchair and take us through the tunnel to CHOC before Jeremy's fate was decided. (I am just going to assume that they got him all fixed up and sent him back to the wonderful facility where he lives, where there are puppies and toys and rainbows and lots of nice people who love him and take care of him. Because any other scenario I don't wish to entertain).
Hospitals, in my opinion, are a gruesome, scary place and I can't imagine anyone likes the reminder of their own mortality any less than I do. But at CHOC, they really do their best to make it pleasant and as fun for the kids as being in the hospital can be. Knowing I would be spending the night, I had asked for a private room, and the doctor pretty much laughed. He explained that would probably not be an option since the respiratory wing is so impacted during flu season. So in light of my 27 hours without sleep, and having to share a room with people in much worse shape than Avery, you can understand how thrilled I was when we rolled up to our private room. Avery's condition forced her to be in isolation, with a double-door entry. Our own bathroom, and an extra layer of doors to keep it quieter? Yessssssss!
Josh arrived shortly thereafter, and he spent the first half of the day with Avery while I went home for a nap. Upon my arrival back to the hospital, I was amazed to see how much she had improved in just a few hours, simply from the fluids she was receiving. The fever was completely gone, and she had perked up significantly. Not 100%, but a step in the right direction nonetheless.
I was also amazed at how well and how quickly she had adapted to not being able to use her right hand at all. The nurses had bandaged it and put a mitten over it after inserting the IV. She never once tried to pull at it or take it off. She just accepted it, and started using her left hand. They had also brought her a play mat and some toys to occupy her next to her bed, since she couldn't venture too far from her IV pole... Like a little puppy on a leash! But she did great with it, like being tethered and suddenly having a useless limb are just everyday occurrences for her. What a trooper!
I was so proud that she was calm and cooperative with every doctor, nurse, and respiratory therapist that came through the door and accosted her with pokes and tests.
And she didn't seem to mind at all that we had to bag up her arm for bathtime...
She received some balloons from Alex, and a second visit later from Lizzy, Manuel, Alex (again) and little Lizzy. Gammy came by too. Although she was tired and ready for bed, she was happy to see familiar faces in an unfamiliar place.
This morning she woke up a new girl.
And by that, I mean the happy and energetic Avery we know and love!
We received the final diagnosis of RSV from the discharge doctor. Essentially, a common and nasty cold virus that is mild for adults but can be very severe for babies. Avery's preliminary test in the ER had come back negative for RSV, but a secondary test showed that she was actually positive. It made more sense, since the x-rays didn't show much in the way of bronchitis or pneumonia. We were instructed to stop the antibiotics immediately, and just make sure she gets lots of fluids and nasal suctioning. The doctor confirmed that the reason she looked so bad when she came in but improved so rapidly is because she was extremely dehydrated, and the fluids are mainly what did the trick, not the medicines.
She loved our "bus ride" (i.e. shuttle ride) back to the car:
It's good to be home, and in a soft bed again!
So 2012..Since today turned out okay, I will give you a second chance, and declare January 7 the first day of the new year.
Cheers to a happy and healthy 2012!
