N was diagnosed in March, and looking back, I realized I never really completed the story of how we ended up here. So I'll continue the story here.
We arrived at Children's hospital, and were taken from the ambulance to a trauma room. We spent about 2 hours in there, as they stabilized our girl, and figured out what needed to happen next. There were lots of questions about medical history, allergies, symptoms, and it was really hard to focus as all my attention was on the little girl in the middle of the room. She was in terrible shape. There were so many people in and out of the room while we were there, most of them introduced themselves, most of them were also a blur. By the time my husband got there, they were talking about some potential "worst case outcomes" to prepare us. With DKA, if the numbers are too out of balance, and don't move slowly enough, there can be brain swelling, which can cause permanent damage. The whole approach is to bring all the levels (potassium, ph, sugars, and probably a few more I can't recall) into normal range slowly, but steadily. They were going to move her to the ICU, but keep her in the ER in the meantime. There were nurses taking blood work, including pipettes of blood to measure oxygen levels - those weren't fun at all.
And then it was just us and a nurse in the room. And I finally started to breathe, and let things sink in.
N was starting to revive a bit, but was so, so tired. She was happy to see her dad, but we were trying to keep her awake to answer questions. Questions like "do you know where you are?" "do you know why you are here" "how do you feel?" She just wanted to sleep.
After the trauma room, they moved us to a room in the ER. The ICU didn't have a bed for us yet, and being in the ER, they would watch us closely. She slept. I cried. My husband sat with us, and then sent me to go find some food. He then needed to head home to meet our other two children, and talk to them about what was going on.
Honestly, that first day was a blur. We had staff in and out almost non-stop. I met so many staff members, answered so many questions, gave our medical history so many times. By about 6pm, I was exhausted. N was still sleeping. Our other children were at a friend's house for the evening, and the puppy was in her crate at home, and I was so happy to see my husband back at the hospital with a bag of clothes and my toothbrush. At some point, I got some food. I texted with friends and family. I prayed.
When evening turned into night, N was not in great shape. Her numbers were improving, but her vitals and reactions were not. They couldn't wake her up, even with a sternum rub and shoulder pinching. The staff prepared me for a potential CAT scan to see if there was brain swelling. A kind nurse found me a chair that almost reclined into a bed (but popped back upright if I moved the wrong way), and tucked us both in to try to sleep. Just at the point when they were most concerned that things were going poorly, she woke up, and told one of the nurses that she was mean and must hate children because she was poking her so much. Blessing right there. Nothing like getting a great belly laugh at 3am.
By the next morning, she was in much better shape, but her little hands were a mess of pokes, and they had moved on to her feet to get the blood work they needed. :( Her system was in such rough shape, that just getting enough blood for a test strip was hard work. However, she was much more alert, and wanted to go use the bathroom. Now *that's* a big deal to do when it's a) down the hall, and b) you are connected to a series of iv and vitals lines, and c) are too weak to walk. I'm sure it was comical to watch.
more to come.
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