Nate's hospital stay

Well, all day Tuesday Nate was feeling bad, but it was much like his last illness. Around 5 pm, I noticed he had a fever, so I gave him some motrin. Then I noticed he was breathing heavy. Flash back to when he was a preemie and all the signs they told me to look for labored breathing--flaring nostrils, belly extending dramatically with each breath, etc. At first I thought I was just being paranoid, so I kept an eye on him for awhile, but by 6:30, I was pretty sure this wasn't normal. I called his pediatrician, who told me to give him more motrin (I hadn't given him a high enough dose earlier) and a warm bath and a suppository in case he was constipated? Still scratching my head about that one, but I did it. I called him back an hour later and said Nate was still breathing heavy. He asked if I was comfortable watching him overnight and bringing him in the next day, and I said no. So he told me to go to Kosair Children's Hospital's ER.

Blake was at work, but no problem, I could handle this alone. Uh, yeah, not really. Picture an 8 months pregnant lady carrying a 36 pound kid on her hip all over this hospital trying to find the ER. The minute we walked in, Nate started screaming, and he didn't stop for a long time. They were really quick about getting him to a room and getting him hooked up on a monitor, which showed his oxygen saturation really was low. They like it to be above 94, and he was around 91. We've been through all of this a few times, albeit 2.5 years ago, so I knew the deal. Poor Nate was miserable--tired, sick, really irritated with all this stuff they put on him. He had to have a chest x-ray, for which I couldn't be in the room. Luckily it was quick. That revealed that he didn't have pneumonia, thank goodness. Then they gave him an hour-long breathing treatment. (Blake had gotten there by then.) After that, he still needed oxygen (nasal cannula) and was still hanging around 91 oxygen saturation, so they admitted us to a room around 1 am.

Nate slept pretty well, considering, and I got a couple hours sleep between all the nurse visits. Blake brought us a bag of toys and clothes and toiletries to last us through the day. We knew Nate would have to spend at least one more night because they have to go through a whole night without oxygen before going home. Blake went to work, and Nate and I struggled through the day. It was really awful. Nate was not feeling well, and this illness has exhausted him. He was annoyed with the cannula, with the monitor on his toe, with the ID band around the ankle, with all the nurses and doctors constantly prodding him. There were a few times when he was completely out of his head, just screaming and thrashing and bossing people around. He'd yell for me to turn on the TV, then scream for me to turn it off. Then he would scream something I didn't understand for 20 minutes, until I finally figured out he was saying "toy train." Give him the toy train, and he wants a different one. (Blake brought almost all of his trains to the hospital, yet Nate wanted James and Molly, the only two he hadn't brought, of course.) He was just inconsolable. Every nurse and doctor who came in the room would be greeted with Nate screaming, "Go that way" and pointing at the door. In other words, get out of my room. Blake came to the hospital in the evening, and he got to witness one of the worst tantrums of the day. I've never seen Nate like this. His heartrate was through the roof, a nurse had to do a finger prick for blood, he was trying to rip off his nasal cannula, a respiratory therapist came to give him a breathing treatment that he screamed all the way through. He was begging us to take him home. He even said to Blake "Go to work! Carry me!" Followed by "PWEASE!!!!" Poor guy. I felt completely helpless. Finally I told the nurse they were going to have to give him some Versed or Benadryl or SOMETHING to calm him down. The doctor (who didn't see how he was acting) wouldn't give it to him. So I started searching my brain for some sensory activities that might help calm him down. I got the biggest book I could find from the library down the hall and let Nate run his fingers through the pages while Blake told him a story. That helped. I asked the nurse if there was an OT on staff who could help, and a lady from their Childlife Services brought a big tub of little beads for Nate to run his hands through, much like his box of beans at home. Blake went home and got the beans and some videos Nate had requested (demanded). He had a few more fits, but this one was by far the worst.

Anyway, in the midst of the chaos, Nate wanted the cannula out of his nose, so we put it on top of his nose to see how he'd do (it was taped on his face). After about 20 minutes, he had done fine with his oxygen levels and he was still trying to rip it off, so we took a chance and took it off. That was probably around 6:30, and fortunately he didn't need it anymore after that. He slept well that night and had no desaturations.

Yesterday morning, we woke up around 6:30 am, and I told the nurse that since Nate went all night without the O2, we were ready to go home as soon as possible. Of course the doctors had to round before that could happen. Then we had to wait on the pediatrician to visit. We were so ready to go, and the pediatrician didn't come by until 12:30. He checked Nate out and told me everything I needed to do with Nate over the next week or so. Nate knew once the pediatrician left that we could leave. So as soon as he walked out the door, Nate was ready. Except now we had to wait on discharge orders. For at least 45 minutes, ugh! More screaming. Poor guy was saying "Go HOME!!!!!" I distracted him with Thomas for a little while, then he decided he wanted to walk between me and the bed for awhile. Finally we were able to go home around 2 pm.

Nate is still very weak and tired ... and cranky. We are to give him breathing treatments every 4 hours for another day, and some oral steroids for his lungs for the next week. But he's on the mend and is acting more like himself more often. Yesterday evening he was playing in the floor and popped up and yelled, "I WUV MY MOM!" Oh, good, he doesn't hate me after all this! :)