Complexities of Life
Looking back eight years ago, I had no idea how much my life
was about to change. We had just been through three major surgeries with our
young son. We had his feeding pump, bags, formula, syringes, medications, other
supplies, I was pregnant, and about to find out I had cancer. The year could
not get any worse could it? I was blessed to not have to have treatments. I
could not have treatments because they would have ended pregnancy. The cancer
was removed just before it reached and passed my eardrum. Huge blessing.
Our daughter was born looking perfect in October. However,
within a few minutes the doctors knew something was not quite right. They were
placing her in the NICU for observation and antibiotics because she was born at
33 weeks. What we did not know was that within a few minutes of birth she would
start struggling to breath, Within a few hours, she would be on the ventilator
and have a chest tube placed. Within 18 hours, she would be on the highest
level of life support, have four chest tubes placed and the idea of EKMO was
very likely. The paperwork signed and they were nearing prepping her.
When our son was in the NICU, I “thought” I know what it
meant to have a baby in the care of the staff there. I would very quickly learn
exactly what was meant when he was labeled “feeder/grower” within a few days of
arriving. Once stabilized, he only had one IV, the purple light due to high
jaundice counts, and a nasal feeding tube till he learned to eat.
On the other hand, when our daughter was in the NICU, I had
never seen so many hooks, wires, tubes, and attachments on such a tiny baby.
Yes, she was born at 33 weeks, but we took up 2 bays work of hooks ups for what
seemed like forever. She received six to eight x-rays of her lungs a days (some
days more), had two oxygen machines one for the oscillating ventilator and one
for INO or nitric oxide, multiple rows of IV machines, Y-ports in her IV
Y-ports. She had IV’s in her hands, feet, belly button and head at one point.
In addition to her vent. she had a nasal g-tube to remove air and mucus, and
other things I did not understand at that point.
For the first three weeks I was only allowed to touch
specific parts of her body and at first for only small amounts at a time
because it cause her to much stress. Later, I was taught how to massage her
tiny body as the staff was worried the severe swelling would cause her skin to
begin ripping open in areas. The fluids had to be moved around.
Our children were allowed in the NICU on three occasions
despite the age restriction because the doctors feared that would be their last
chance to see their sister. Sadly, parents of healthier children in the NICU
did not understand this move and were angered that our children all eight and
under were allowed inside during the RSV/Flu season. On the fourth occasion the
children were brought to the NICU, they were all scared to see her and thought
she was dying for sure. When they found out she was about to be released they
were all thrilled beyond comprehension. Finally, after 6 ½ weeks in the NICU
and 1 week at the Ronald McDonald House we were allowed to take her home. The
kids were thrilled to make the two hour trip to get their sister and take her
home.
Taking her home we were told to expect severe cognitive
delays due her coding in the NICU a couple times, the excessive amounts of
oxygen, some of the treatments, and they did not know how her lungs would do.
We were told her lungs would be very iffy as she was leaving with 25% overall
lung function. 10% one side and 15% on the other. Would her lungs grow and
become healthy? Would her lungs stay the same? Would they get worse causing her
to require a double lung transplant? They did not know… Would she even qualify
for a transplant if she needed one? Only time would tell. To may questions, and
no answers.
What did she come home with? Well let’s just say her
equipment put Zach’s meager equipment to shame. Suddenly we had; oxygen,
pulse-oximeter, apnea monitor, feeding pump, and her nebulizer, and ALL the
supplies that came with each machine. In addition, she had syringes, a special
bed wedge for her sleep on. She had to have her nose and mouth suctioned still
and her whole list of meds. When we left the house with Zach, I needed only his
feeding pump, backpack, formula, and a few spare items. Suddenly, we had
developed a trauma level first aid kit that we had to keep on hand at all times
when we left the house.
Nobody prepared me for the fact that I would be needing an
ambu-bag, and other resuscitation needs should her apnea spells cause her to
code again until after her 2nd hospitalization the doctor asked me
what her first aid kit looked like. We also were not prepared for the first
public outing we had (going to church) and all her alarms alarmed at once and
she almost required a 911 call while at the church.
This was short lived. Ten days home and we went back to the
hospital for another 21 days. 21 long days. Her first day back in the hospital
she aspirated and coded in front of the admittance staff. After an emergency
Nissen Fundoplication, to help stop the severe reflux, we were sent home again.
She continued this pattern her first several years. The same answers we were
given, and they were ignored. Do not plan her upcoming birthday, because she
will not live long enough for you to celebrate it. We planned those parties
anyway.
To date she has easily lived 1/3 of her life in the hospital
with all her hospital stays combined. She is completely feeding tube dependent,
especially with her j-tube. Her lung function has improved to an amazing
60-75%. She has no cognitive damage. She is the happiest and most positive
child I know. She has endured multiple major operations. In addition to, well
over 30 additional procedures and treatments in the OR under anesthesia. Yet
even with this she still goes into each one happy and goofy, and come out with
a smile.
What has this child taught? She has taught that regardless
of the complexities in life, it is important to look for the blessings
surrounding us. There is always someone: needing cheering, a friend, to feel
important, has trials harder than she has, who works hard to be an amazing nurse
or doctor, and sometimes, just a smile, nor or giggle is all they need to
smile, giggle, or change the outlook of their day.
We have grown closer as a family because of the need to
learn the individual needs. We have learned who our friends are and who we know
we can count on. We discovered which teachers and nurses at school are simply
amazing beyond all expectations. They treated our daughter with the utmost care
and like she was one of their own children.
