It's been a long something. I only know what day it is because of my computer. It certainly doesn't feel like the middle of May.
I'm sitting next to Hunter's bed on the fifth floor of Children's Hospital, plugged into my iPod, trying to sort through all this, this, what? Crap? Emotions? Guilt?
Guilt is currently at the top of my list because I believe, right or wrong, that I am the reason he is laying in this hospital bed drooling all over his pillow. I'm one of those people who believes depression can be genetic. There are a myriad of other people who vehemently disagree with that belief and I am okay with that. I can only speak about my life and the lives of my children and how this chemical imbalance affects all of us.
The unit is quiet and were it not for my iPod I would be listening to the rhythmic click-swoosh-click-swoosh of the IV pump forcing fluids into Hunter's stubborn veins. The first IV was inserted into the crook of his right elbow at the first emergency room. Although I understand the veins in the crook of the elbow are considered prime real estate common sense should prevail to deter tech's from installing one there. Like, duh! Hunter only had to slightly bend his arm and the pump alarm would sound. Because Hunter has been diagnosed in the Autism spectrum he is easily overwhelmed by sounds, sights and smells and this constant alarm had him in an almost constant tizzy.
I finally got my way and they moved the IV to his left hand. All was right in Hunter's world and he dozed off for oh, about an hour, after which he woke up screaming bloody murder. Something was obviously wrong but he was so tired and incoherent that I struggled to figure out what he was so distressed about. I finally heard the word "pain" and looked at his left hand. Yep, sure enough, it had bubbled right up. The IV cath was out of the vein and pouring fluid into his hand. Speaking from experience I can assure you that it hurts. like. hell. I seriously considered gnawing my hand off when it happened to me.
After an attempt in his right hand that failed so miserably the catheter was actually zig-zagged bent a vein was found on his forearm and the IV successfully installed. Hunter was an absolute trooper through the whole ordeal. Well, except for the swollen hand and howling part. At a few points during the process he let out a belly laugh that had the tech and the nurse laughing at his laugh.
The Lithium and potassium levels are slowly coming down (yeah!) but I have a whole other issue that I am overwhelmed with concern over. The team has been pumping oceans of fluid into Hunter but he is only voiding a ladle full. On top of that it is very dark and cloudy. What makes the whole situation -- and me -- out of control is that there is blood in his urine. It's not visible to the eye but the color appearing on the dipstick is not even remotely close to any of the colors on the chart it is compared to. The color on the dipstick is way off the chart. Every fiber in my being tells me something is terribly, terribly wrong but I can't get a definitive answer as to what might be causing all this blood in his urine. About 15 minutes ago the nurse came in and connected a second pump to administer Lasiks through Hunter's IV. If the Lasiks works properly Hunter should be peeing over the moon. If not, what next? I've been surfing around the Internet tonight but it's only adding to my panic and confusion.
It's now 5 AM and I'm wide awake. Hunter is sleeping and softly snoring. Over the past five years Hunter has been given some pretty wicked medication -- have these damaged his kidney's beyond repair?
I'm sitting next to Hunter's bed on the fifth floor of Children's Hospital, plugged into my iPod, trying to sort through all this, this, what? Crap? Emotions? Guilt?
Guilt is currently at the top of my list because I believe, right or wrong, that I am the reason he is laying in this hospital bed drooling all over his pillow. I'm one of those people who believes depression can be genetic. There are a myriad of other people who vehemently disagree with that belief and I am okay with that. I can only speak about my life and the lives of my children and how this chemical imbalance affects all of us.
The unit is quiet and were it not for my iPod I would be listening to the rhythmic click-swoosh-click-swoosh of the IV pump forcing fluids into Hunter's stubborn veins. The first IV was inserted into the crook of his right elbow at the first emergency room. Although I understand the veins in the crook of the elbow are considered prime real estate common sense should prevail to deter tech's from installing one there. Like, duh! Hunter only had to slightly bend his arm and the pump alarm would sound. Because Hunter has been diagnosed in the Autism spectrum he is easily overwhelmed by sounds, sights and smells and this constant alarm had him in an almost constant tizzy.
I finally got my way and they moved the IV to his left hand. All was right in Hunter's world and he dozed off for oh, about an hour, after which he woke up screaming bloody murder. Something was obviously wrong but he was so tired and incoherent that I struggled to figure out what he was so distressed about. I finally heard the word "pain" and looked at his left hand. Yep, sure enough, it had bubbled right up. The IV cath was out of the vein and pouring fluid into his hand. Speaking from experience I can assure you that it hurts. like. hell. I seriously considered gnawing my hand off when it happened to me.
After an attempt in his right hand that failed so miserably the catheter was actually zig-zagged bent a vein was found on his forearm and the IV successfully installed. Hunter was an absolute trooper through the whole ordeal. Well, except for the swollen hand and howling part. At a few points during the process he let out a belly laugh that had the tech and the nurse laughing at his laugh.
The Lithium and potassium levels are slowly coming down (yeah!) but I have a whole other issue that I am overwhelmed with concern over. The team has been pumping oceans of fluid into Hunter but he is only voiding a ladle full. On top of that it is very dark and cloudy. What makes the whole situation -- and me -- out of control is that there is blood in his urine. It's not visible to the eye but the color appearing on the dipstick is not even remotely close to any of the colors on the chart it is compared to. The color on the dipstick is way off the chart. Every fiber in my being tells me something is terribly, terribly wrong but I can't get a definitive answer as to what might be causing all this blood in his urine. About 15 minutes ago the nurse came in and connected a second pump to administer Lasiks through Hunter's IV. If the Lasiks works properly Hunter should be peeing over the moon. If not, what next? I've been surfing around the Internet tonight but it's only adding to my panic and confusion.
It's now 5 AM and I'm wide awake. Hunter is sleeping and softly snoring. Over the past five years Hunter has been given some pretty wicked medication -- have these damaged his kidney's beyond repair?
1 comment:
i hope you get a chance to check in and give us an update - but if not, that's ok too.
(((carrie)))
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