Yeah, time sorta gets split into chunks around here. A couple hours here and there between pumping. I feel like I live more here than there. Day bleeds into night and soon it doesn't even matter. It's hard to make myself take breaks for food, water and bathroom breaks. But I also acknowledge that if I do not take care of myself, I won't make Ollie his milky and I won't be strong enough to stand vigil at his cribside. It helps to pull out the laptop and put out a quick update...
This afternoon Dr. Sosa came in, he's the on call for today since my favorite Ms. Doctor Korte is off again. (the audacity) Had another semi grumpy nurse, but once they realize that they can't shoo me away and I do most of Ollies needs (diaper changes, a paci when fussy) myself, they lighten up. I hate seeing them man handle the babies. For the most part it's pretty sweet, but some of them just go on auto pilot and treat the kids like they are 6 months old and not covered in IV lines and what not-just grabbing legs and whipping diapers off and on. I am grateful to be able to stay by my son's side. Anyway, Dr. Sosa ordered Ollie another blood platelet transfusion. It is so his blood can clot as needed. Platelets come from bone marrow, and apparently Ollies took a big hit and is slow to catch up to speed. Not a big deal...except they had to insert an IV. The first nurse was confident in her ability; poke 1 = couldn't find the vein. *sigh* poke 2 = found the vein! and promptly blew it out. *sigh* I'm glad I was in the room (not at bedside because I don't want to be associated with pain) and watching because she may have tried again. Luckily she went and got "the pro" who snapped in the IV line in Ollies other arm in a matter of seconds. I think to myself, why the hell don't they get the pro to do it the first time?
Anyway, so now Ollie has his right leg and right arm completely immobilized. I can't tell you how much it bothers me. A tiny little IV requires a splint down that entire limb. It's so hard to keep his range of motion and joints moving so they don't get stiff. But, he needs the platelets. So, I suck it up and deal with the tubing and wires and splints. Even a diaper pro like me after 3 other boys has a hard time changing him through all the hook ups.
After the IV insert, it was food time. Ollie got to cuddle in my arms and get his feed. We are encouraging sucking alot to strengthen his mouth muscles per the therapists orders. He likes that idea too... paci's are awesome. And with perfect timing my husband showed up to let the other boys see Ollie. Ryan is kinda babied out and declined the visit, but Jacob and Bradley loved it. Bradley sat with us almost 30 minutes, asking questions, rubbing Ollies little head and holding his hand. It was really sweet. I adjusted his position a little bit and he burped at Bradley. When Jacob was visiting, Ollie rolled his eyes around a little and showed those baby blues to his big "bobo." It was really good for the kids to see him being a baby and doing normal baby things. I thanked them for all they are going through so that I can sit and hold their little brother and help him be healthy. Will seems to be more affectionate with the kids than I think I have ever seen him. He's gentle and sweet. He talks to them when they seem weepy or upset. He's steady- It's amazing how this kind of thing can change one to the very core. All the stuff you used to fuss about, really doesn't matter. They are all healthy and thriving and that in itself is a blessing worth counting and respecting.
The Physical therapist came in and did some exercise with Ollie and he even got a little infant massage. He was in heaven!
His feeds are up to 30 ml every three hours and taken over a 30 minute time period. He is still chugging them all down with very little to no residual each time. They are not upping his feedings anymore for now. They are lowering his nutrition IV-it has fats and fluids in it from when he wasn't taking feeds. But now that he gets food, they can lower the IV significantly and eventually wean off it. It feels good to see more progress. He was sleeping very hard tonight in my arms and still had no oxygen drops like he has been the last couple days. No repositioning or having to shut his mouth. I asked the doc what they do about that weird breathing and he said nothing. It's something Ollie has to outgrow. The steriods he is on will help with that, and also with the brain somehow. I still don't have all his meds mastered and understood, but I get it a little more each day.
It's crazy this life in a hospital. You begin to recognize faces-cafeteria workers, janitors, nurses and staff members. You smile at the other moms and families who are in and out of ICU living in, yet not at this hospital. Sometimes their head is down and tears are pouring and you give them their space. Sometimes they smile with victory and you grin back in a silent "Hurrah!" for whatever it is that made progress for them. The brand new moms do the slow shuffle, sore from labor and delivery yet determined to be near their baby's side. I feel more like an old timer now...a little more organized, moving a little faster, figuring out how routines work and what makes life easier.
Its nice to pass my old high school friend each day. Sometimes she's or I are a little discouraged and we talk it out. Sometimes there's victory-like her 25 week old little girl dodging heart surgery...and we hug and rejoice together. It's a whole world you never new existed day to day, week after week, bleeding into months sometimes. You see a guy sleeping on the couch and you think nothing of it. I slept on that couch last week...in the middle of a waiting room with strangers in and out. We all understand. It's a club no one wants to be in, but everyone respects and makes the best out of being a part of. Some of us don't speak English. Some of us are facing bigger struggles than others. Some of us have one child and some have families to juggle. Some are here at night and some during the day. Some of us sleep on couches, and some of us don't sleep at all. Some of us are in sweats and jammies and some come in suits. It doesn't matter. We all are in the same boat. Alone, yet, not alone...and time ticks on...
No comments:
Post a Comment