My morning began around 2:45 a.m. It’s amazing how seeing your kid in respiratory distress can wake a girl right up. Kinda like a shot of Red Bull straight into your veins.
When we couldn’t maintain Parker’s O2 levels on the highest setting our concentrator can reach, ten liters, we knew we needed to get Parker to a place where he could get some help.
Have you ever called 911 before? It’s kinda surreal. Reed’s only request was for the paramedics to please not use their sirens, we didn’t want to wake the neighbors. And it’s not just the ambulance that arrives. Nope. The first on the scene is a police officer. Then the EMTs. Three to be exact. And bringing up the rear? A big shiny red fire truck. They showed up just in case we needed to use the jaws of life to get Parker out of his crib, I guess.
The whole time you find yourself wondering if you’ve made the right decision to call for help or not. I mean, did your kid really aspirate badly enough? Is that 103 degree fever high enough? Could we have made it up to PCMC on our own if we would have pulled a MacGyver and rigged up two oxgen bottles together somehow? Cause two oxygen bottles both set at 5 liters would be liters of oxygen flow, right?
Then you remember the first rule of being parents of a medically fragile kid with special needs: Follow Your Gut. (no. seriously. it’s in the handbook that somebody really should write someday.) My gut was doing somersaults in it’s attempt to convince me to take heed now.
I’m glad I listened.
Parker’s latest x-ray shows that his pneumonia is worse. The nose culture that it took 5 of us to hold him down for, came back positive for Adenovirus.
Fun fact: Adenovirus often presents with diarrhea. The smell of which you can cut with a knife. We’ve been dealing with a tummy bug for the last two weeks. Several stool samples miserably provided by our Brave Hero have been trotted (get it? trotted? okay. it’s possible that I’m a wee bit tired.) down to the AF lab only to come back with totally normal findings.
We were on the right track thinking Parker had a virus. Unfortunately we were taking cultures from the wrong end.
Between the now confirmed pneumonia, the adenovirus, the never ending (kinda terrifying) mucus plugs, the high CO2 amounts, and the temperature that insists on hitting it’s high note at around 103 degrees every couple of hours, it’s been decided that the best place for Parker is here in the hospital where all the really good IV antibiotics live.
Can you believe that this is the first picture I’ve ever taken from my cell phone and uploaded to use online? It’s amazing the things you can teach yourself during an 8 hour ER visit.
I often hear people talking about the ‘still small voice’ that whispers to them in time of need. Luckily when the Spirit speaks to me it does so by jumping up and down and creating situations I simply can’t ignore. Let’s face it, anything that whispers to me is going to be drowned out by the sounds of alarms going off or over shadowed by sheer exhaustion.
Today I’m thankful that the Spirit doesn’t come in a one size fits all version.
If you have a moment could you send up a little prayer that our Brave Hero’s lungs can heal and he’ll have the strength to kick this virus to the curb?
Blowing this joint is top on our Christmas list this year.