Primary Children's Hospital

Well, you know how the old truism goes, "Be careful what you wish for." Well, let's just say that we made a "donation" to Primary Children's Hospital much sooner and in a much different way than we had anticipated.

But, to backtrack a little bit, after we got home from the Festival of Trees we put the kids down to bed. Bryn was out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow and slept soundly throughout the night, but Hudson's night was entirely different than that of his sister. He wasn't interested in drinking his milk before bedtime, but we just chalked that up to the fact that he wasn't feeling good. Every couple of hours he would wake up, coughing, and just plain miserable. I spent the night pacing the hallway, rocking him, and attempting to get any type of fluid into his system.

When morning came, we all stayed home from church because I was exhausted and Nate started complaining about a sore throat. We headed over the in-laws for some dinner, where Hudson finally was able to get some much needed rest. He feel asleep on me and slept for nearly three hours. When he woke up around 5 PM, he was still very congested and was extremely warm. After giving him some Tylenol, we waited a few minutes and took his temperature which was topping out at 102 degrees. By this time, we were all getting extremely concerned so we left Bryn with the grandparents while Nate and I headed to Instacare with Hudson.

We were there for only a few minutes before they called us back. They stripped Hudson down to his diaper and started weighing and measuring him asking us questions while they examined him. I told them about his fever and how I was concerned he was getting dehydrated. They waived that off and asked, "How long has he been breathing like that?" I looked at Hudson and saw that instead of a normal rise and fall of the chest, he was sucking his ribcage in and out every time he took a breath.  They checked his blood oxygen which is supposed to be at least around 94%. He was in the mid to low 80s. The doctor came and said, "Your son is not getting enough oxygen, and if we can't raise his oxygen level, we need to send him to Primary Children's Hospital by ambulance immediately.

Not getting enough oxygen? Primary Children's Hospital? Ambulance? By this time, I was on the verge of tears. We came to Instacare concerned about his fever and dehydration thinking he might have strep throat, and then all of sudden we are talking about his inability to breathe. They pulled out a long tube, shoved it up his nose, and attempted to do "deep suction" to remove all the fluid and then started him on an albuterol treatment. There was no improvement and the doctor turned to a nurse and said, "Call an ambulance." I turned to the doctor and said, "We can drive him down there right now." I said this because I didn't want to wait, or for that matter, pay for an ambulance to take him to Salt Lake. The doctor looked at me sympathetically and said, "I can't let you do that. He is working really hard trying to breathe and if he were to all of a sudden tire out, he could stop breathing all together on I-15."

Wait, what!?! There was a possibility of him stop breathing altogether? Finally the seriousness of the situation hit me, and with tears slipping down my cheeks, I could only nod my head as they explained what they were going to do. Nate suggested I ride with Hudson in the ambulance while he updated his parents and ran home to get clothing and toiletries for myself and Hudson and would then meet us in the emergency room at PCH.

The ambulance arrived and we headed towards Salt Lake. The EMTs attempted another albuterol treatment and constantly checked his vitals. It's amazing how the mind tries to understand and comprehend the world around it when it is suddenly thrust into chaos. Such random thoughts, but I remember thinking, "Hudson isn't strapped into a car seat. I hope these guys drive carefully. I should put on my seatbelt. Nope. I am going to stay right here next to my baby. Are the sirens on? I don't hear them. I hope nobody hits us when we go through red light. . . "

We got to PCH where they ushered us into a room. Immediately, a respiratory therapist came in and proceeded to do another "deep suction." Poor little man screamed and did not like that. To be honest though, who would want a tube shoved all the way up your nose, down your throat, attempting to suck out fluid all the while barely being able to breathe. Hudson got hooked up to oxygen again and then a nurse came in to put in an IV to hydrate him, pump some medicine in for a slight ear infection, as well as to draw blood for some tests. Immediately, I had flash backs to the horrendous experience we had when an inept nurse attempted to draw blood from Bryn and literally had a needle in her arm for over two minutes fishing around trying to slide it into the vein. This experience was vastly different. And these guys were pros. She had the IV in within seconds, all taped up, and covered with a wrap so Hudson couldn't pick at it. A doctor came in, discussed all their findings, and relayed the bad news. Hudson had a slight ear infection, bronchiolitis, and needed to stay until his breathing improved.

Nate arrived with cheeseburgers and fries (he is a saint) which made me realize I hadn't eaten anything for over 9 hours and was starving. Nate brought all the stored milk I had, and Hudson even was able to drink about 4 ounces which I was extremely happy about. It took them a couple of hours to get a room prepared for us and around 11:30 PM they brought us into a private room. I met Hudson's nurse who helped us get situated for the night, and by the time I was done with all the preparations around 1AM, I promptly fell asleep on a pull out couch.

The nurses came in every four hours to check his vitals, listen to his lungs, and usually had to do more deep suction even if he was fast asleep. The next morning, he woke up and looked quite miserable but was still on the mend. I was optimistic about being able to leave that night, but those hopes were dashed around 10 AM when the residents started making their rounds. Because of the amount of deep suction which were performed and his still low blood pulse oxygen levels, we settled in for another long day. Hudson, bless his heart, couldn't figure out why he was surrounded and hooked up to so many cords. I spent most of the day trying to distract him from the cords and untangling them when he managed to tie them into knots.

That evening we had a couple of visitors pop in and, once again, graciously bringing me some food this time in the form of a Café Rio salad as well as my computer. Brynlee was a little concerned when she saw Hudson hooked up to all his cords, but that wouldn't stop her from sitting by him and giving him plenty of love and kisses. After Nate and Bryn stayed for a little over a hour, Nate went home to put Bryn to bed and we settled in for another long night.

On the morning of December 4th, Hudson woke up remarkably happy and was looking much better. They unwrapped his hand which is when I saw a giant blister on his little hand from where the wrap had been irritating the skin. The wound clinic nurse came into check on it, and after examining it for 15 seconds said, "Well, it is a blister. Just don't pop it." This was the only complaint I had about our entire stay. They charged our insurance over $200 for this quick visit which was their fault in the first place. In the grand scheme of things, after all the adjustments and contractual agreements were taken off, I am sure we only paid like $10, but still it was completely outrageous. It's no wonder people cannot afford healthcare. 

Anyways, we were once again hopeful that we would be able to leave that afternoon, but those hopes were quickly dashed after the doctors made their rounds. Hudson was improving, but still required deep suction and was not able to keep his oxygen levels high enough on his own. 

That afternoon, we had some more visitors stop by. Imagine my surprise when a lady knocked on the door and standing, or rather looming, behind her were two gigantic basketball players from the Utah Jazz. My family has been devoted Utah Jazz fans for as long as I can remember, so it made this little unexpected visit very cool. They signed a little basketball for Hudson which kept him entertained for the rest of the afternoon. I called my little brother Tony, who happened to be celebrating his birthday, and relayed our experience. I even offered to give him the signed basketball for his birthday which he quickly shot down. He said, "For all Hudson has been through, he has earned that ball!"

 

We had so many calls and texts from all our family members scattered throughout the country all wanting updates and expressing concern about our little man. Cody, my brother who is an orthopedic surgeon, called for a daily status update and wanted me to relate all the medical jargon the doctors were telling me, keeping them honest. Clay, my pharmacist brother, was interested in what types of medications he was taking and would double check to make sure there were no interactions between them. It sure is nice having health professionals in the family. Treatment of a patient means more when it is one of your own relatives and we were extremely grateful for their expertise. We also received lots of texts and calls from caring grandparents, aunts, and cousins that helped break up the monotony of the long days.

It wasn't long after we got there, that Hudson began to charm all the doctors and nurses on the entire floor. Once he started feeling a little better, he would smile and blow raspberries kisses which caused all the nurses to coo over him. His little antics ensured that he got whatever he wanted. Whether it was new toys or an extra container of pureed peas, Hudson had those nurses wrapped around his little chubby finger his entire stay. Hudson ate up the attention, especially when such attention was heaped upon him by blond nurses. I think the nurses were just happy to see a little kid who was getting better and would leave the hospital. I am sure they see a lot of cases in which most kids aren't that lucky.

After four days in the hospital, we were finally able to leave in the afternoon on December 5th. Hudson still had to be on oxygen and we were given a prescription for deep suction for a clinic in Bountiful should we need it. Once they began relaying all of the instructions about having him on oxygen at home, I started to feel a little nervous. There were so many stipulations about the positioning of the oxygen tanks, proper ventilation while driving etc that I was beginning to have second thoughts about leaving. But, as all healthcare workers know, hospitals are are nothing more than breeding grounds for diseases, and the last thing I wanted was for one of us to pick up something more serious like RSV or a staph infection. In the end, we decided it was best for us to go home.

As you can see, Hudson was just as excited about going home as I was even though we were well taken care of. Seriously, I have nothing but good things to say about all the staff members we came in contact with everyone from the janitorial staff to the respiratory therapist. Each and everyone went out of their way to make sure we were as comfortable as possible. I still want to buy one of those Christmas trees and make a donation to Primary Children's Hospital. Just not this year: we are a little tapped out : )