Saturday evening, we took MIL & our niece to meet and visit with Squish. When we got to the NICU I was somewhat peeved, because I felt like his nurse for the day had not been taking care of him as well as the previous nurses had. I mean, he was ok, but the nurse was not as attentive to detail... like putting little gauze pads under Squish to make sure he didn't end up wading in vomit (he's been vomiting a lot recently).
So my MIL and I were observing Squish, while I obsessed about the dried up vomit he was lying next to and about how the brace on his face that his tubes were connected to was loose, in fact it was nearly detached from his face. Meanwhile, the day nurse was catching the night nurse up on Squish's progress and care plan, so they were across the room--It was shift change.
Suddenly, Squish began coughing repeatedly. Vomit spewed out of his mouth, which of course, pissed him off, so he began batting around. I put his infant mitts on, but it didn't help. He went for his tubes, and detached the brace from his face. I flagged down the nurses, and immediately a team of staff swarmed around his bed--nurses, respiratory team, etc. MIL and I stepped out of the way. It seemed like it was more of an emergency than it had initially struck me to be. When I flagged down the nurses, his tube was not yet out. Regardless, I was overly cool. I have the tendency to be that way when I should be flipping out and worried.
MIL looked at me as if to say that I was handling the situation very well. I was just confused. A lady introduced her as the nurse practitioner on staff that evening. Because Squish had taken his own breathing tube out, they decided to "go ahead" and replace the ventilator with a Cpap machine... a step down, a step into the direction of him taking a more active role in his breathing (and hopefully coming home soon). They thought that maybe he'd do ok, since he'd taken the initiative.
We left shortly after the Cpap was in place, so that Squish would have an opportunity to settle down and get acclimated to his new machine. MIL was so excited. Her version of the story is that he saw his Grammy and decided that it was time for him to breathe on his own so that he could leave the hospital soon. He saw Grammy, which convinced him that he could do it. They'd had a connection.
While I wish that my son were home with me, I feel blessed to have shared that special moment with my MIL. I did not meet her prior to marrying Doug, and we have not spent much time together at all. Having her around this weekend, along with our other family was quite a treat. I feel like I got to at least know her a little better, as we were able to chat more. Fluff got to know her Grammy, big cousin, and uncle and aunt more. She was a lot more engaged seeing them this time, being nearly two and a half now. It was sweet and a great encouragement.
We were exhausted all weekend, but having family around was like having one big group hug that we desperately needed in order to regain some more energy to push through our current trials.
No comments:
Post a Comment