July 31, 2013

• Looking Back

  When Riis challenged us with the simple quest of going back and pulling our first Xanga post here, it was more than I expected. You know this isn't my first account here. Sarahsmurfette was. I started that blog 2/15/2005. Before kids, before Josh. However, early June 2007 a terrible thing happened in my life and I deleted everything in my account leading up to it (except pictures). So my first available blogpost on my first account is not my first. And I will tell the story of what happened that caused me to wish to start over.

  Ava was born May 10th, 2006. She was always a healthy, thriving little girl. Until May 2007.

  (Shit, I'm shaking in my fingers already)

  It was just a fever. Nothing else. But it wouldn't go away. I took her to her pediatrician. There were no other symptoms, her ears were clear, her lungs sounded well, her throat looked good, she was acting like a normal one year old. I was told to give Motrin and Tylenol, staggered, when her fever spiked.

  I did.

  A week passed. She still kept spiking fevers. I took her back to the pediatrician. This time, she saw another physician (we couldn't be worked in with her normal pediatrician). Because it was a persistent fever at this point and she still had no other symptom, he ordered chest x-rays. They were terrible x-rays, which I knew because before I worked in CT, I worked in X-Ray. He said she had pneumonia. I said "she has no cough, no wheezing, no mucus, is not in pain. That x-ray is insufficient for diagnosing pneumonia because it is not done on inspiration, count the ribs. The consolidation you think you see is actually the dome of the liver, not evidence of pneumonia and mucus in her lungs." He took the films down, his glasses off, and looked at me with his mouth agape. "Who are you?" And sent the films to a Radiologist (a dr who specializes in reading x-rays etc) who said it was insufficient (told ya so) and ordered another set, which were also shitty, and another, which were also shitty, and then we called it off because the radiation was just too much and the staff was clearly ... well, shitty.

  Either way, because her fever had persisted so long with an unknown etiology, and when it spiked it spiked to 102, she was prescribed antibiotics.

  Days passed. The antibiotics threatened to give her a diaper rash, I was working REALLY hard to stop it. Her fevers still persisted. I took her to a well-renowned Children's E.R. when it spiked to 104.

  They drew her blood (they "missed" her vein the first time. SIGH). They ordered a cath sampling of her urine (they wanted to insert a catheter into her urethra to take a sterile sample). I asked if we could wait to see the result of the bloodwork first, or if I could speak to the doctor first before putting Ava through that invasive and painful procedure. They were really snotty about my request. They left and I did not see another staff member for about 3 hours. When they returned it was with discharge papers and normal bloodwork results. We never saw the physician. I never got to discuss Ava and what was going on. They labeled the file "would not consent."

  Yeah. I would not consent without more information. That's called informed consent.

  We went home with no answers, but at least I knew her blood count was normal and that her ears and throat etc were still normal. The blood count was important to me, as elevated white blood cells indicate infection somewhere, and hers was normal. So... It was still a big fat "We don't know. Sometimes kids just get fevers."

  3 days later, it spiked again to 104. I took her back. Same result. Blood draw, look at ears, nose, throat. Nothing. Sent home after a big dose of Motrin, and this time, when they drew her blood they left the iv in place and put in a bag of saline. Her extended fever surely must be dehydrating her.

  2 days later, my world changed.

  ___

  I put her to bed that night after a dose of Motrin at midnight. She was warm, 101. At this point, it was kind of normal though. She never acted strange. Just took her medicine like a good girl. She didn't want much dinner that night, though. I put her to bed in a thin onesie. It was now the very beginning of June in Florida.

  When I woke up around 8am (Josh was at work), I thought it strange that she wasn't up yet. I checked on her, she was sleeping soundly. She was warm to touch. But not hot. I let her sleep. I checked again at 9. Same. At 10, she was still sleeping. This was getting too weird. I actually tried to rouse her at that point. Notice I said tried.

  She was extremely lethargic. It was very wrong. She didn't want to wake up at all, and not in an I've-got-an-attitude kind of way. She was weak. She just kept closing her eyes. She was limp. She was still breathing fine but was much hotter now. I took her out of her crib and downstairs. I took her onesie off to change her diaper. It was dry. It shouldn't have been dry. She slept through all that. I didn't re-dress her. I took her temperature, first from her ear. 104. I called emergency nurse call, a service through our pediatrician to ask where I should go: to the emergency room or to their office. She asked me to take a rectal temperature. I did. Also 104. She told me to come immediately to the pediatrics department, that they were about to start lunch breaks (they break around 11) but that someone would stay behind waiting for me. This was ok with me because their department is IN the hospital. We would be there if/when other decisions needed to be made. She was sooo sleepy.

  I grabbed some of her clothes and stuffed them in her diaper bag, and strapped her in her carseat. Off we went. It usually takes about 25 minutes to get there, it was on base (Naval Air Station Jax). About 15 minutes in, the worst actually began to happen.

  **oh my God**

  First, her coloring changed. She turned kind of grey-ish. I said her name. Her eyes were opened. But she didn't look at me. I shouted her name. Nothing. Not even a flinch. I started driving like a bat out of hell. She slumped forward.

  I called my Mom. Someone had to know. I asked her to call Josh, I couldn't get in touch with him, he was on a boat. She told me later it was the worst phone call she ever received. She made plans to leave Indiana immediately. She started a prayer chain for what she fully believed was Ava's death. Because that is what was beginning. Her friends still refer to Ava as "the one."

  I don't even remember going through security or parking at the hospital. I know I grabbed Ava and nothing else and ran inside with this grey, unresponsive child in her diaper. The guy who was waiting in pediatrics was horrified. He took her pulse. It was over 200. He dropped all of his equipment on the floor and ran, shouting, "stay there!" I heard his voice over the hospital-wide PA system, "I need a doctor, any doctor, to Pediatrics. Stat! This is a true emergency. Any doctor, come to Pediatrics. Stat!"

  It was horrible.

  They came running. These Naval hospital physicians, whoever they were. They took her to a procedure room that was very weird looking. As I gave her history, others were taking her vitals, starting an iv, using cool cloths to both rouse and cool her. It didn't take long for her to be more aware of the world. They gave her a Pedialyte popcicle. They stood in corners conferring with each other. She was bypassing the ER and being admitted to the hospital.

  Meningitis was being discussed. I could hear it. Other unmentionables were also on the table. Untreatable unmentionables.

  Josh finally came.

  We were taken to her hospital room. It had this huge metal crib and they'd crammed a regular hospital bed in there, too, for me and Josh. She was on iv antibiotics and saline. They took her vitals every hour. They had a stockpile of Pedialyte popcicles brought in, it was all she'd eat/drink. And then she'd sleep again. The day passed. And then the night. Still no wet diaper. Still the spiking and falling crazy high fever. Mostly spiking.

  Mom came. She says we had such a look of numbness on our faces. I believe it. I don't even remember much about the time in the hospital. Just weird details like the blood pressure cuff. And then a conversation with the doctor on the second day. She didn't know what was happening. She didn't think the antibiotics were helping. She thought it was possible that they were prolonging the fever, because she'd been on them in iv or oral form since her 2nd visit to the Pediatrician. She said she was going to turn it off.

  And see what happened.

  I sort of thought nothing of it. I wasn't capable of thinking into it.

  Mom went with the doctor into the hallway and talked with her. I found out about this well after, like years after. The fact was, they had no idea why Ava was so deathly, yes deathly, ill. The antibiotics had not made any progress in her wellness. So taking her off of them? She'd either begin to get better...

  ...or she wouldn't.

  She would basically either get better, or would die.

  ____

  They stopped the antibiotics. And waited.

  ____

  We stayed in the hospital for another two days. Ava's fever went away.

   

  Here she was, about a week later, back home. Still looking like shit. But miles better than how she'd been:

  

  ___

  And that's the reason why I don't have my original posting. Because this turned my life upside down so badly I didn't, at the time, wish to look back.

   

  @MyxlDove

  • 11:37 am
  • 3 Comments