The day started out promising. Abi couldn’t eat past 6:30 am, but she was
doing fine. Her surgery was scheduled
for 2:30. We got the hospital at 12:30 and by 1:30 we were back in the pre-op
area, separated from all the other patients by thin curtains. We waited and
waited and waited. The surgery ahead
of us ended up taking much longer than expected so Abi was on the pre-op bed
for 2 hours longer than expected. She
was VERY hungry at this point, but still kicking and having a good time.
At 4:30 they finally took her back and the real wait
began. Sidenote: doesn’t matter how easy
the surgery is supposed to be, seeing your child look at you with a confused
look on her face while being carried away by a bunch of strangers is parental torture.
At 5:30, they call us in the back, the surgeon meets with us
and tells us she did great and I finally begin breathing again. We go back into the main lobby and wait for
the recovery team to come get us. I call
Sean and my dad and tell them the good news and wait….
And wait…
And wait…
Eventually we were the only ones left.
Finally I see a nurse walk in and speak quietly to the assistant left in the room with us. She whispers, “McConnell” with a worried look on her face. My heart sinks. The assistant points to us and I brace myself. The woman came over and said, “She’s inconsolable. We don’t THINK she’s in pain, but we’re not sure. Is there anything you think might be the problem? Would you like to come hold her and try to calm her down?” We immediately run to the back and as we’re walking past patients in beds with curtains for walls I hear Abi screaming. I run up to her. She’s in the hospital bed, face swollen, closed eyes 4 times their normal size, wailing. I pick her up and start speaking to her. She calms down a little but continues to cry. As I hold her, we begin the process of brainstorming: Pain? = We give more pain meds. Acid reflux? = We give Acid Reflux medication. But nothing was helping. Eventually I ask- “has anyone even seen her eyes open??” Nobody had. It became obvious-she wasn’t even awake. I felt the grip on my emotions start to weaken and as I realized something was really wrong I worked hard to hold her and not totally panic. I’m the person who got her wisdom teeth ripped out of her gums WHILE AWAKE because I refused to be put under… I’m deathly afraid of anesthesia and now, my daughter (to the dismay of all medical professionals) wouldn’t WAKE UP. BUT it was worse. It wasn’t that she was just asleep, she was asleep (we think?) and screaming!
We began considering the possibility of a condition called
“emersion delirium” which can cause patients to react strangely when coming out
of anesthesia. The anesthesiologist came
and told us she was screaming from the second she woke up… she didn’t know what
was wrong but didn’t think it was pain… she left. No problems solved. Just gone.
Eventually the nurses came in and said they’d spoken with the doctors
and they were going to give her a medicine for pain and emersion delirium- even
though they didn’t think that’s what it was.
As the nurse went to give this medicine she discovered that the IV was kinked.
She said, “Hmm… okay- well maybe it is pain b/c now we don’t know if any
of the pain meds actually got to her… Not sure when this kink happened.” Oh. Dear. Lord. I could feel my spirit spinning. As the minutes passed my mom held Abi and she eventually
started to calm down. The new meds
seemed to be working… (Or perhaps the original pain meds were finally reaching her?
Who knows.) However, despite a break in the screaming, she still hadn't opened
her eyes.
I took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, call Sean, and
ask him to start calling family and friends.
We needed prayer. Big time.
I took a few deep breaths and walked back to our
curtain. When I walked in, my mom looked
up at me and said, “Mary Susan. Go get a
nurse.”
“Why?”
“Mary Susan. Go get a nurse.” I looked at Abi and I could tell she was
fighting for air. I ran out of the
curtains looking for a doctor or a nurse.
I found them and I interrupted their conversation and told them frantically,
“I need you NOW!” They ran with me back
to my mother and when they looked at Abi, the nurse said, “Get her on the
table!” She grabbed an oxygen mask and I
watched as they tried to help my daughter breathe. Abi looked like a fish out of water. Her eyes were still closed but she was
gasping for air and clearly not getting any.
The nurse said, “We normally don’t like parents to see this. Are y’all okay?” My mom nodded yes and I said, “No. I’m not
okay.” And started bawling. The nurse said,
“Go sit in that rocking chair over there.
Go sit. We don’t want you to see this. It can be traumatic for
parents.” So I went. I sat in the rocking chair and looked up to
see a dozen other families, looking at me… Everyone’s curtains were wide
open. I crumpled in the rocking chair
and started to bawl. Before I knew it
another nurse handed me a box of tissues, and a cup of apple juice. She said, “Take all the time you need” and
closed the curtain. I call Sean. I could barely get my words out. “Abi can’t breathe. They put her on the oxygen machine. They told me to leave. They can’t get her to wake up.”
Finally I gained the composure to go back. At this point, the nurse had Abi on her side
and she was breathing fine… but still on the machine. The nurse told me that the last medicine they
gave her must have been too much for her little system and it sedated her so
much that her airway closed. She said,
the medicine would be wearing off shortly.
The second it wore off we knew it, because Abi started screaming. Again. We held her, we talked to her, we played her
music. She would scream and then stop
and then start screaming again. There were no answers.
The nurse told me they were considering taking her to the
ICU. She also told me some people were
there to see me, and even though only 2 adults were allowed, they’d let them in
if I was okay with it. I wasn’t
expecting anyone but I said, “Sure send them back.” It was my sweet
father. Sean had called him and he and
my sister and step mom had rushed over right away. It meant a lot.
EVENTUALLY- Abi’s
vitals were steady enough that despite the fact she hadn’t woken up yet, the
nurses felt comfortable sending us to a room.
On our way out of the area Abi started to barely open her eyes. I immediately put my face near her ear and
began speaking to her. For the next hour
she would open her eyes a little, and then close them again. She couldn’t keep them open for long. BUT
THEY WERE OPENING!!
For the rest of the night, she would sleep soundly and then
suddenly start screaming. Because of the
surgery starting late, she couldn’t get any food for an entire 24 hours. I was
certain she was painfully hungry.
Eventually, I climbed up into the crib with her and slept there. By 8 am she FINALLY looked AWAKE. She was clearly uncomfortable, but at least
she was AWAKE!!!
Despite the anesthesia nightmare, Abi’s tube was working
well and she was finally awake, so we were discharged in the late
afternoon. (Thank GOD!) Amazingly enough,
this was the weekend my sister Maddie had planned to come meet Miss
Abiella. She had come all the way from Denver and was waiting at the house when we returned. (Actually she stayed at the house the night
we were in the hospital and took care of our dogs, went to the grocery and got
fancy creamer (a big treat for me), and prepared the house for a cozy first few
days of Miss Abi’s recovery.) For the
next few days Maddie, Abiella, and I recovered at the house, watched TV, went
on walks, drank pots upon pots of coffee, and laughed… a lot.
Then Sunday morning Sean returned and we all went to our Framily Thanksgiving across the street that evening.
Then Sunday morning Sean returned and we all went to our Framily Thanksgiving across the street that evening.
A few days after that, James (Sean’s brother) drove up from
Georgia and joined us for Thanksgiving...
5 holiday movies, tons of food, and 2 days later, James hit the road and headed back home.
5 holiday movies, tons of food, and 2 days later, James hit the road and headed back home.
Today, we’re busy eating
leftovers, decorating for Christmas, and helping Abiella venture through
teething AND post-op tenderness… quite a double whammy.
-------------------------------------------------------
I wrote the above a few days ago but never posted. Since then Abiella became increasingly sore
and generally miserable. On Sunday night
we noticed a hard spot near her incision site. We immediately suspected
infection. We called the nurse and she
told us to wait until morning and then go see the surgeon. That’s what we did. The surgeon felt the site could be infected,
but that it didn’t look bad enough to know for sure. Since the surgeon felt it
was no big deal, I told Sean to go ahead and leave town as scheduled for work,
and that I’d start Abi on the antibiotics prescribed by the surgeon. My super mom had also offered to come down
and help me. So by 3 o’clock Sean was on
a plane out of town, by 5pm I was giving Abi antibiotics, and I thought things
would slow down. But, Abi continued to feel worse and worse. By 8pm she started vomiting. A lot. Her belly
looked completely distended and the hard spot had grown substantially. I
freaked out, considering she had never vomited before and she seemed SO
MISERABLE. We immediately loaded her up
(after I called 911 and asked for an ambulance and then quickly decided against
it… new parent syndrome?) And by 9 o’clock
we were in the ER waiting with about 50 other families. By midnight we were in our own room in the ER
and 21 hours and 37 minutes later we’re still here.
In the wee hours of the morning we got 2 x-rays done, both
of which came back normal. They started her on IV antibiotics and by midday today she
began throwing up again. A lot. BUT after she was done, she immediately went
back to her hold self. Finally. Smiling,
kicking, wide awake, looking around, less tender…Now we’re waiting it out…
We just started small amounts of pedialyte through her tube now... praying it goes well and stays down...
