Mommy Sweet

Mommy Sweet

Baby, Mommy is always with you.

Okay, so it's a Monday night and I hear the screeching screams of my 10 month old son, Blake.  He could not possibly have another ear infection could he?  It is the universal signal - screaming at optimal levels that even dogs respond to.  Well, let's recap the past six weeks:  ear
infections beginning the second day of the beach vacation, striders,
then a double ear infection, a head cold, an emergency room visit for
bronchiolitis, insert my 3 day debilitating migraine, and now "the
scream".  Only this time something is very different.  It
is a bit deeper screen and he is pulling his knees up to my shoulders
as I try to hold him in his favorite snuggle position, which usually
always works.  It's not working now!  I yell to my handsome husband to call the emergency line at our Pediatrician's office.  He dials the number and doesn't know what option - "Two!" I yell back.  Tearfully now I'm asking my son, "What's wrong baby?"  In a very short time the on-call Physician calls back.  I try to dictate objectively through my own tears and my son's cries what is going on and why I am so worried.  She calmly suggests that I give him Tylenol and Mylicon drops, it sounds to her like he has gas.  Okay, I run to the nearest Eckerd's and scavenge through the shelves, ah, there it is!  I pay and hurriedly drive back to the house.  I
run through the door to see that dear husband sitting idly by in his
recliner, mighty relaxed I may add when he says, "He's sound asleep."  I drop on the couch, catch my breath and go to bed.  As
any parent probably expects, I was up repeating the screaming—cuddle
snuggle not working-crying-walking around cycle typical of ear
infections in a 10 month old. 

Tuesday morning we wake up to the biggest dirty diaper I have ever seen.  So my thoughts are, well the Doctor was right, his tummy must have been hurting because he is completely back to normal now.  We resume our typical schedule and take Blake and his big brother, 30 months old, to their Mimi's house.  We have gathered all supplies including briefcase, construction tools (husband), backpack, diaper bag, pocketbook.  We head out the door relieved. 

A few hours into my work day my Mother, "Mimi", calls and says, "Honey, Blake just doesn't seem right.  He is listless and when he tried to pull up on the coffee table he couldn't, he just laid back down."  I responded, "What does listless mean?"  She described what I only know as lethargic.  "Mom, go ahead and call the Pediatrician's office and describe the symptoms and behaviors you are seeing.  I am sure they will want to see him so make a time that is convenient and let me know when to be there."  She calls back shortly after and says, "They want to see him at 2pm.  I can take him and meet you at their office."  "Thanks Mom!"  So, I finish up my duties that cannot wait and get to my Mom's house for my youngest son at about 1pm.  Blake was just lying there in my Mom's arms.  This
is my little red haired blue eyed baby who is usually surfing,
wrestling with his brother on the floor, or turning the furniture into
Mt. Everest.  I am immediately terrified.  His usually pink, fluffy skin now appears translucent with a sea green tint.  He barely has his eyes open.  The normal giggling, laughing, hugging, and kissing reception I am accustomed to be starkly gone.  I
take him from my Mom and grab his diaper bag prepared to drive Mock 10
and knock down the door to the Pediatrician's office if needed to be
seen right that minute.  Suddenly, he begins vomiting this yellow, green vile smelling substance called bile.  I must get him there.

I explain to the nurse that he has begun vomiting and he decides to demonstrate on good old Dr. Dodd's shoes.  I report all the stats about last meal, last bottle, last activity, etc.  The Doctor enters and (thank God he knows my children) says, "Yeah, he just does look like himself.  You don't feel good do ya buddy, he asks Blake.  Then to me he says, I don't really like the way he looks, let's run some tests.  They take a white blood count and some other information only found from my child's life fluid.  Dr.
Dodd's says, "I think it would be good to go ahead to the hospital to
at least have some observation and fluids considering the history".  Then he reports good white count of 10,000 and listens to Blake's abdomen.  He
begins by describing a condition called "Intussusception" and uses the
illustration that the intestines become irritated and roll into
themselves like a telescope folds in.  The test for this is an air enema which is typically also the treatment.  I have made arrangements for you at the Children's Hospital where you have Room 939 and a surgeon is waiting on you there.  You really need to go straight there."

Wait a minute, did he say surgeon?  I finally realize while I am now a block from the hospital entrance.  I blow it off; I need to focus on getting my son in here.  I
have already sent my husband to the house with a list (made at the
pediatric office while waiting on the blood test results to help me
remain calm) of things to bring up to the hospital for us because I'm
not planning on leaving if my child has to stay.  We
get up to his room and the staff begins "prepping him" which entails
two attempts at an IV line with no numbing agent, placing a blue
hospital gown on him, doing a catheter to collect a urine sample, and
multiple other tests on his vitals. 

I'm already feeling more frightened as I insisted on staying in the "Treatment Room" with him.  I decided to sing our favorite songs and rub the tip of my nose on the bridge of his.  He clings to me.  Quickly, the staff from the Radiology Department comes and explains on the way down what the procedure, Air Enema, will entail.  We
get to the room and they strap my precious child to a board, pull an
x-ray machine over him, stick the enema tool in his rectum and tape it
shut with some force.  They bring his image up on a screen where the Intussusception is quite obvious even to my untrained eye.  They begin the procedure and through my son's screams you can actually see the intestines come out of each other on the screen.  Eighteen inches were effectively treated with the process.  Then it stopped.  The radiologist kept saying I'll try on more time, one more time.  The risk is that if you try to much to force it through it can perforate the intestines which will end in surgery for repair.  If
we are unable to reduce (that's what they call getting the intestines
pulled back out from being doubled up) by this then you will end in
surgery also.  It is going to end in surgery.  He could not get it all out this way.  They bring the surgeon in and he wants us to go straight to the Operating Room.  But there isn't one available.  So
they take us up to our room and within minutes the Surgeon comes in
describing as delicately as possible the procedure that my son needs to
have.  He is going to have his appendix
removed as it is in the area of the obstruction, his intestines pulled
out, manually reduced, one foot before and one foot after the
obstruction checked, blood flow checked (if the obstruction or
intussusception has stopped blood flow it can be fatal), then his
intestines will be placed back in his little body. 

Then the surgeon used the words that parents fear most of all - urgent.  The surgeon said that he had already informed the operating room that this was urgent.  I
recall hearing the word urgent several other times and then we were
handing our still wide awake son over to the anesthesiologist.  He
was looking at me and I at him hoping that he would remember what I
always whisper, "Mommy loves you and I am always with you in your
heart!" 

Moments later a call came to the waiting room stating that he was sound asleep and the surgeon had begun his procedure.  All was well so far.  We sat and waited.  Suddenly,
sitting in the waiting room, the pictures that usually dance in my head
of the dirty dishes, dirty clothes, unkempt house, unopened bills, the
grocery list, and the work responsibilities - all vanished.  I was completely in the moment when the phone rang again.  It was like a scene from a movie.  I looked at the phone like; please let it be for someone else, when I heard my name called to answer.  I picked up the phone cautiously and was told that it was the operating room calling about Blake.  The woman on the other end said that he was sleeping peacefully and the procedure was underway.  WHAT?!?!?!?  It was the same thing I had just heard.  Apparently
their anticipation of keeping me informed had resulted in an
unnecessary coronary for which I almost needed to be hospitalized!  In
a total of 30 minutes I received the news that the surgery had been a
complete success and I would be able to join my baby in the recovery
room. 

I walked, okay, ran to my baby and was allowed to hold him in a
recliner for that hour and a half with the constant monitoring from a
fabulous recovery nurse!  She wheeled us back up to the room where we were stabilized and monitored every thirty minutes throughout the night. 

We had more information than we could have appreciated at the time but now we are in the follow up mode.  Within
24 hours, coincidentally when his big brother came for the first visit,
Blake was sitting up on his own, drinking a bottle, playing with toys,
and speaking in that sweet dialect to is family.  I have never cried so much in my life. 

Apparently, this condition is difficult to diagnose and can be fatal within hours.  We were lucky to have a fabulous pediatrician who knows my child.  He has continued doing research to attempt to determine what caused the inflammation that caused the condition.  We are in the process of determining if food allergies could be to blame in our case.  It may be that the prior illness could be related.  At this point, all we definitely know is that this condition though somewhat rare is real.  It is important to reach out to other parents and help them monitor symptoms.  The behavior of pulling those knees up dramatically is apparently a key for diagnosis.  Either way, we were spared and have our healthy baby bouncing dancing red head temper child back.  I have never cried so much. 

About the Author

Luanne is a Counselor and Coordinator working with Healthcare Providers to improve wellness in the workplace and in their personal lives.

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thankyou

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TED WILLIAMS (homeless golden throat) MEETS MOMMY - SWEET!!