Brooks started having a runny nose a couple of Thursdays ago, and by the next day, friday, it was a super runny nose, but not much more. He hadn't been sleeping well all week, so we went to the pediatrician that Friday morning to check him out. He had the beginnings of an ear infection, so we started ear drops for his tubes and went on our way. Same song and dance. The next morning, on Saturday he was a little irritable, but nothing major so Brooks and I headed to Fort Smith for Wyatt's 1st birthday party. On the way down he slept for about thirty minutes and then woke up screaming and I had to pull over twice between Alma and Fort Smith, and he again, seemed irritable, but nothing major other than ear drainage…yuck. We drove straight to a lunch date with my Granny, Papa, Dad, Kay and Debbie at Red Rooster in Fort Smith. At lunch, I noticed he seemed to be breathing heavier, but just kept a good eye on him, and I wasn't really alarmed…yet. We left lunch early because I could not make him happy and he definitely wouldn't eat anything. We stopped at Walgreens' to get some more medicine and Kay rode with me so I didn't have to get him out of the car. After getting to my dad's he was really breathing hard, I felt a bit of panic start to rise up, but calmed down and decided to try a couple of rounds in a steamy shower, and called Bryan. Brooks cried the whole time, and I lifted up his shirt and saw what I was about to learn is called "retracted breathing". The steamy shower did nothing and he was definitely getting worse, rather than better. I handed him to Kay and walked to pack up our things, I hadn't announced it yet, but I knew we were headed to the doctor. About the same time, she said "I don't want to be an alarmist, but we might need to go to the…." and I cut her off, and said "I'm packed." After a few phone calls, and a couple of tears on my end, we decided to try a walk-in clinic, when we walked in, they sent a doctor up immediately to look at us, and he said "No, go to the ER." We could almost see the hospital from this clinic, so I am not sure I even responded to him, I just turned around and went back out to the car, and told Grandad drive us over to the hospital. In the parking lot, this group of people were blocking the driveway chatting, and it if I wouldn't have been holding my sweet baby in my arms, I would have jumped out of the car and moved them out of the road, I have no doubt I could have just tossed them at this point. Note to everyone, hospital driveways aren't places to stop and chat. By this point, I was very worried, and when we walked into the ER they took us right back. His O2 levels were low as well as very elevated respiration rate. We started doing some oxygen and wasn't long before we did our first breathing treatment, his activity level and mood improved some, but didn't help a ton right away with his other symptoms. I knew he was feeling better when he started to smile at the nurses and try and rip the room apart. We had an x-ray and RSV swab, and when things didn't improve enough, they admitted us.
we sent dada a little hospital selfie, we have some good oxygen flowing from the styrofoam cup. momma here, needed a hit of oxygen as well, at this point. they tried a nasal cannula for him…that lasted all of 60 seconds, he grabbed it with both hands, screamed, and ripped it off of his face, even with me trying to push his hands down. determined.
a cooperative breathing treatment. these were the glory days before we decided we hated them.
The pediatric wing was apparently full, so they had to send us to the older pediatric area to the smallest hospital room I had ever seen. We had several very sweet nurses and CNA's and met a fort smith pediatrician that took good care of us. Around the time we got to a room, Bryan arrived. My dad stayed with us the entire time at the hospital (and he hates hospitals) and was a great assistant. Before the end of the evening, Joe and Liz, Kati, and my mom all came to check on little Brooksie boy. They started him on steroids and antibiotics, and said for us to try and keep him calm. Well, pump him up on steroids and breathing treatments…and calm wasn't really a possibility. But, it was great, because I knew when he started being a monkey again, we were on the mend. I probably mentioned that the room was ridiculously small, so I talked Bryan into going to my Dad's to sleep and letting me have night shift with my baby. There was no way I was letting him more than a foot from me, so we spent a very interrupted night of sleep curled up in the constantly inflating hospital bed with him, and I loved every second of laying right beside him. Sometime around midnight I felt like his breathing finally seemed easier. I laid beside him in the dark and petted his sweaty head, and touched his face, and cried, and thanked God for him. Sunday morning, my dad brought my Granny up to the hospital around 6:30 (my family are a group of early risers) and she helped me wrestle the boy until Bryan arrived around 9:00. We spent the day trying to entertain brooks and get him to rest and cooperate with breathing treatments, the better he felt, the less cooperative he was. bryan's mom came from searcy to help us with him for the next week, and when she arrived the told us he was NOT going back to daycare. we have just been sickly since we started in August. we said, we didn't want him to either, but we really didn't have another option. long story short, he's not going back, and we appreciate her more than she will ever know!
our night time snuggles. hard to see, but he's sleeping soundly, finally around 10:00pm
morning and me breaking more rules by letting him play with my glasses.
this pretty much sums up a night in a the hospital
breakfast, pancakes for all!
this cracks me up:
my boys, and dada looking nice for a day in the hospital, while I looked like an episode of
"What Not to Wear"
granny and the monkey in his cage. he loved running back and forth in it!
times got desperate. we had to play in the hospital pan.
dada and uncle joe on duty.
feeling better and a victory lap down the hall way!
Thankful the Lord teaches us lessons through every experience. My heart is even more compassionate for parents with babies in hospitals. Bless them.