Cody’s First ER Visit

You know that scene in TV medical dramas where someone is rushed into the emergency room from the ambulance and all physicians and nurses rush to their bedside to begin working on them? You see nothing, but scrub-clothed bodies moving about rapidly, hear medical terms being thrown left and right and although you know nothing about the case, the one thing you are certain of is that the person laying in that bed must be in bad shape to require all the ER medical staff to be by their bedside.

Yet through all the hecticness, everyone starts moving in slow motion and they cannot respond fast enough to the patients needs.

Had it been a TV show, the slow motion would have ended and a commercial break would have occurred to build up anticipation.

When you are the mom watching the frenzy and trying to catch a glimpse of your 6 month old lying on that bed through tear-filled eyes, the last thing you want is a break. You want to stand there, watch everyone like a hawk and pray that this ER visit ends soon with your child happily being carried in your arms as you exit those ER doors together.

To this day, the ER visit replays in my head every time I hear an ambulance. (I hate it.)
Less than one hour prior to being in the ER, we had gone to Cody’s pediatrician because we were concerned about him. His breathing had been rapid for a few days and he had not eaten during those days.

As soon as we walked into Doctor’s office, he took one look at Cody and said, “I’m calling 911.” With that, he was gone and no sooner than he left the nurse was rushing into the room with an oxygen tank.

Cody was breathing at 80 breaths a minute and he was in respiratory distress.

Everything from there moved in slow motion.

The paramedics came. They asked me to get Cody’s car seat from the car while my husband stayed with Cody and they would meet me at the ambulance.

I think everything wasn’t registering yet, but I can vividly remember walking to the car, getting the car seat out then casually walking over to the ambulance to wait for them to arrive with Cody and his dad.

When they met me at the ambulance they took the car seat from me and told me to meet them at the ER down the street. I remember telling them I would be right behind them and the paramedic very seriously told me “Don’t follow closely because we make sudden stops and do not run red lights like we will. Be sure to stop at red lights and stop signs”. I also remember responding with, “DUH!” and rolling my eyes at him.

When I got to the ER and asked where my son was, the receptionist’s big eyes told me it wasn’t good. I also knew it wasn’t good when the 2nd person to greet me was a social worker (I think that is what they are called) asking me if I was prepared to go back to the ER. I politely told her to please just let me see my son.

I got to the back room to find my husband standing on the side while the swarm of medical personnel shouted out medical terms, yelled out questions to us about his recent (3 weeks recent) heart surgery and moved every possible machine in the ER towards Cody.

Moments later, a Doctor came up to us to tell us they needed to transfer him to Children’s Hospital.
A few more minutes later, the same doctor informed us that they needed to intubate him as soon as possible because he was unable to breath on his own. WHAT????? Intubate him??? NO!!!!!
That was when I lost it. That was when the tears became waterfalls and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t focus. I ran. I ran outside. I bawled.

What I hadn’t realized was that I had been followed.

A very nice lady that had been in the back with a family member had been watching everything and when she saw me run out she followed me. She followed me- a complete stranger- then walked up and hugged me.

She told me that she was sure that my son would be fine. That God was good and would take care of him. That the same God that helped her get out of her darkest days of drugs and despair would be there to see Cody through this.

Although I didn’t know who she was, her words were comforting. A stranger stepped aside from her own family member’s injuries or illness to ensure that I knew Cody would be okay. I still remember what she looked and sounded like because it meant that much to me.

Cody was then rushed to Children’s Hospital with his dad by ambulance while I went home to get ready to pick DJ up from preschool.

Thank goodness my younger brother was visiting at the time and could watch DJ while his dad and I attended to Cody at the hospital.

Once at Children’s they placed him in the ICU where he remained on a ventilator for 25 days. He had Bronchiolitis.

Seeing him the state he was in was harder to watch then seeing him after heart surgery. He was sedated for the most part because he would pull his ventilator out and was in such discomfort. He was sedated so frequently that after his visit, he had to be put on Methadone because he was having drug withdrawals.

They tried to remove him from the ventilator 2 times with no success. The third time proved to be a charm. Watching him go through the first two trials was heartbreaking. The nurse would open-handedly pound on his chest to try to help him catch a breath. She had me do it, too, so he could look in my eyes and I could encourage him while he tried to breath. It was hard to fight the tears, but we didn’t want him to see us break.

It was a long month in the hospital, but it was even more proof for us, that we had a true fighter in Cody.

He missed his first Halloween and came home the Monday during Thanksgiving week. We had a LOT to be thankful for that Thanksgiving.