We Had One Foot Out the Door…

Today is day 55 for Jackson in the hospital. That’s mind boggling. I’m seriously blown away. If someone had told me on May 11 when we arrived, that we would still be in this hospital after nearly two months, I would have laughed in their face.

Yet, here we are.

And, what’s sad, is that we were all set to go home last Sunday. My favorite nurse (hi, Stephanie, if you’re reading this!) even left us a card at the nurse’s station because she was afraid she wouldn’t see us again. Honest, we had prescriptions ordered, all of his home-health equipment delivered, follow-up appointments were made; we were on our way OUT that door. We were so excited.

And, then, Jackson started to backslide. His breathing spiked back up to consistently 100 breaths/minute. His oxygen, which we had NEVER been concerned about, started dipping into the low 80s and staying there. It was clear his heart was having to work harder than normal, as there would be beads of sweat on my sweet, 2-month-old son’s head.

What kind of 2-month-old actually sweats? The sick kind. The cardiac-compromised kind.

So, we stayed. We stayed, because we asked to stay. I’m not kidding. See my previous post about having to be an advocate for your hospitalized child, because we had to ASK to stay. They were still going to send him home.

So, since they didn’t, they presented him to the cardiac team again last Wednesday, and it was decided he needed a cardiac cath, also known as an anteriogram. This will give them a better picture of the pressure in his heart and lungs, as well as a better look at the VSD.

Unfortunately, this also means he will need to be put under general anesthesia again, and we all know how terrible he did with the ventilator last time. But, the benefits outweigh the risks. This procedure will give them valuable information about what is happening to him from a pulmonary (lungs) AND cardiac standpoint.

So, Monday, around 11 a.m., he will go down to have that done, which could take anywhere from 2-4 hours. That’s 2-4 hours of positively panic-induced waiting. Seriously, I may just chug my whole bottle of Valium (joke, joke, joke!).

To be quite honest, it feels like we’re back at square one again, and I keep looking around, wondering, “How did we get here?”