"While we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will hardly die for a righteous man; though perhaps for the good man someone would dare even to die. But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." - Romans 5:6-8
Some nails I am so very thankful for. And. Some. I am definitely not!
Good Friday is a day of mourning, of sadness, of reflection at the injustice that lurks in the dark world that we live in. Yet, our omnipotent God knew. And He loved us so much that He sacrificed His son, His only son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, so that we may have eternal life.
That afternoon when that cross was raised in Golgotha, when our Lord willingly suffered and died for each of us, when nails were hammered into his flesh, after he had been spat on and humiliated for our sins, we had no idea that it would be the greatest gift we would ever receive. My heart breaks at the thought of how Jesus suffered for me, a sinner, on that cross. It breaks when I think of what an offensive, repeat offender I continue to be. Yet, His love for me is so great that He continues to remind me that it's OK. He loves me. His unconditional love is something that I could never be separated from. (Romans 8:35-39) Much like the love I have for my own Bouquet of Blessings. Thank you, Lord!
Now, speaking of blessings.
Around 1:00 p.m. yesterday we were wheeled down to the pre-op. After reviewing every possible scenario with Dr. Hero and the new ENT, which by the way I happen to love, they confidently headed into the OR.
About an hour later, they emerged through the doors of the waiting room where I nervously sat praying and wishing them through.
They smiled and immediately reassured me all was well. Then they asked that I follow them into the conference room. I hate conference rooms. (Conference rooms will always remind of Angel's story.) Conference rooms seem to never be a place for good news.
The new ENT first commented on the fact that the previous ENT who had done the adenoidectomy at MCH did a great job! That was a huge relief. Then they proceeded to tell me about Kai's present surgery.
After scoping and completely going in from nasal cavity down to his airway, they found that one of the "ports" on each side of the flap, which are quite small to start with (on purpose to prevent excess airflow into the nasal cavity) seemed to be the problem. The port (breathing hole) was covered by tissue, therefore leaving him only one side only to breathe in from. When he falls asleep and his muscles relax, that covering tissue sort of flops down over the port, blocking the airway. When the adenoids were enlarged due to the respiratory infection he had weeks ago, it threw him over the edge. Dr. Hero solved this by cutting back about 2/3 of the tissue that surrounded the port.
Is it the answer to stopping the de-sats? We're not 100% sure, but it definitely was a contributing factor. We will now do a repeat sleep study for his apnea in about 6-8 weeks. He will remain on the monitor at home for that time, and is also now on preventative medications (Nasonex and Claritin) daily for an undetermined length of time.
After the doctors left, the nurses called me into the recovery room where my boy was having a raging fit as he was coming out of anesthesia. Oh. My. Word! That's where the other nails come in.
I had meant to clip Kai's nails before leaving Ft. Myers, but in my haste, I completely forgot. As I approached the crib where arms were flailing, screams were shattering glass and eyes were shut so tight that I thought they'd burst, he reached out and literally clawed me. I hadn't even spoken so he didn't know it was me. I immediately retracted. This time more cautiously I approached the crib again and tried to whisper (but ended up shouting for him to hear me above the screams), "Kai! It's Mama. I'm here baby. It's OK!" He then whipped around towards me and before I could jump back, two little hands with outstretched
By then, one of the nurses whose job I had taken over by holding him down, had gone to get the anesthesiologist. Shortly afterwards, he rushed in with syringe in hand and gave him a dose of Presidex, a sedative to allow him to go back to sleep without compromising his respiratory function the way morphine would (not to mention that he's allergic to morphine). The response? NOTHING. The wildcat was still on the loose, attempting to rip off any wiring attached to him, throwing his beloved pillow across the room, pulling off his hospital gown and almost choking himself in the process. Another dose 4 minutes later. Again. Nothing. Finally, the doctor said it was not working, which was quite obvious to those who only really understand medicine in layman's terms, such as moi. He ran out and ran back this time with a syringe filled with Diprivan, a medication used to maintain general anesthesia. He immediately was out. The doctor instructed the recovery room nurses to allow him to sleep it off and not wake him. Which meant we remained in the tiny, frigid cold, dark recovery room for what seemed like forever.
About 3 hours later, I gently spoke to him trying to rouse him without startling him. It worked! He accepted his pillow from me and let me stand by his crib stroking his hair as he came in and out of conscienceness.
We came up to the room where he had some jello, some juice and a dose of Tylenol with codeine for pain.
This morning he awoke happy and for-the-most-part pain free, with the exception of a terrible rash that has covered his body. Yes. The codeine. An alkaloid found in opium that converts into morphine in the liver. Being that he is allergic to morphine, I should've known. They should've known. Right now, I have one very itchy and red little boy sleeping behind me. A little boy filled to the brim with Claritin and Benadryl.
As to the de-sats, assuming the monitor worked properly, we did great last night! The alarm didn't go off once and my keenly watchful Mama eyes did not see any drops in his levels. Praise God!
We have at least one or two more nights here, meaning we should be home for Easter, God willing. I leave you all with some pictures of my boy. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your prayers and wishing you all a very blessed Easter weekend.
Heavily sedated in recovery, after his wildcat tribute.
In the pre-op learning how to take apart the blood pressure cuffs...
....and his heart rate leads.
Being my silly boy!
Cute foot-sies with the now very-familiar-to-us oxygen sensor attached.
