Weekend in the ER

Whew.  What a crazy past 5 days it has been.  The five of us left Tuesday night to drive to Mt. Juliet, TN, to see my siblings and families.  We got there Wednesday mid-day, and on Thursday, Hayden woke up from her nap with a 102-degree fever and a yucky cough.  My sister-in-law Liz made an appointment for us at a walk-in clinic in town, and by the time we got there, she had spiked to 104.  The nurse practitioners there diagnosed her with a virus, and I treated her fever for the rest of the day.

The next morning, she woke up sounding like a seal and was wheezing.  I took her back to urgent care, and the NP did a breathing treatment on her.  Rather than respond to it, she actually became lethargic and looked like she felt worse.  The NP suggested I take her straight to an ER, and she recommended Vanderbilt Children's Hospital in downtown Nashville, about 25 minutes away.

I didn't stop back by my brother's house to get my things... I just put her in the car and drove.  I called Jason and told him to stay with Jax and Emerson and I would let him know if I needed him.  When I exited to downtown Nashville, the directions the walk-in clinic gave me weren't matching up with where I was.  I knew I was close, but I was having a hard time finding it.  Suddenly in the backseat, Hayden started wheezing more quickly, and she was starting to panic.  I was driving half-watching the road, half-watching her.  Her little arms and legs began to flail, and I knew it wasn't good.

I've always wondered how I would react if I were faced with a crisis situation with one of my kids, and I'm frustrated to say I kind of melted for a moment.  I think I verbally cried out for God to help me, and my mind was racing with possible scenarios... What if she quit breathing?  Would an ambulance get to me quickly enough?  Would I slam on the brakes and get her out of the car, hoping someone would stop and help me?  All of these thoughts were going through my mind at lightning speed as I pulled up to a stop light and started to press 9-1-1 on my phone. 

I looked to my left and saw a woman in scrubs with her car window halfway down.  I frantically called out to her and told her I was looking for the children's ER and that my baby was having trouble breathing.  And let me tell you right now that the Good Lord takes care of his children.  The words from her mouth were almost unbelievable:  "I'm a pediatric nurse at Vanderbilt... follow me and I'll get you there."  

She and I sped through what seemed like 8-10 blocks of downtown.  As soon as we were close, she motioned for me to pull alongside her, and she pointed to the building.  I quickly thanked her and ran every single stop sign until we pulled up to the ER entry.  I don't really remember who I left my car with (obviously it was valet), and I rushed into the entrance.  The security lady was as slow as molasses while searching through my diaper bag, and when we finally got to the triage station, two nurses saw Hayden's labored breathing and got her back right away.

For the next 5 hours, we sat in a room in the ER where she got a few more treatments and started responding well.  Here's what she looked like after we came in, after her initial breathing treatment:

Within a couple of hours, she was back to her normal energy level, but she still sounded like a seal and was wheezing quite a bit.  The ER physicians diagnosed her with croup.  

Holding still like a big girl.  

Mustering a little smile while checking out the interesting machines, cords, and wires in the room.

This next picture was the beginning of her reaction to the steroids.  The doctors warned me of the possibility of moodiness, and boy HOWDY were they right.  Here she is during one of her 'highs,' doing circles around the room, holding a straw in one hand and a tortilla in the other.

They decided they wanted to go ahead and admit her, but the 300-bed children's hospital was at capacity that day, so we sat and sat and sat in this room.  Finally after 5 hours, we were transferred to a room in the children's hospital.  

The sweet nurses brought that balloon in for her.  Someone had left in in their room when they were released, and they knew Hayden would like it.  Like it she did!  "Buh-ooh" she would say as she pointed repeatedly to it.

Jason came to the hospital that night to drop off clothes for me and say goodnight to his girl.  The rest of the night was pretty horrible.  The steroids were making her crazy, and she would flail and flop herself around in the bed, finally wearing herself out only to wake up again after 10 minutes or so.  Added to that were the nurse visits every two hours and the RT's breathing treatments, and neither she nor I got much sleep that night.  One minute she wanted to be held and rocked, the next minuted she hated my guts and would push me away and slap at me.  God gave ma an extra dose of patience that night.. and I think the fact that she is my third made me a little less freaked out.  I knew she wouldn't remember any of it in the morning.  :)    

The next day (Saturday) was more of a waiting game as the resident and attending physician just wanted to watch her to see how she improved.  They knew we were going to be making the 9-hour drive back home just as soon as she was released, so they were very cautious.  I took her on rides around the floor in a little red wagon, we found a couple of empty family rooms with rocking chairs to play on, and she found a few minutes of enjoyment out of Bubble Guppies on YouTube.  

They released us at 1 p.m. (Praise GOD!), and after quickly packing up and saying good-bye to our family, we headed home.  We got as far as Forrest City, AR, last night.  Hayden screamed and/or fussed for that entire leg of the trip minus a 25-minute nap.  Yea for us!!!  

Today we got up and finished the drive home, and she was a much happier camper.  We are all glad to be home safe and sound, but I'm really bummed that I had to spend so much time away from my family while on vacation.  I'll post pictures of all of the cousins in a future post.