Poor Sick Tiny Guy

Jack's had a really rough time since the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  We were still in Corpus Christi then at Kyle's mom's (Judy), and he just seemed so fussy.  He finally fell asleep late in the evening, but by 2am he was restless, crying, and arching his back like he was in pain. He wouldn't nurse.  I could tell he was starting to run a fever, too.  He cried until 7am, when Kyle took him downstairs.  Judy offered to watch him for a while so we could get some sleep, and it was definitely appreciated (especially in retrospect, because we've had very little sleep for a while now).  We finally made it home, but kept having to alternate giving him Motrin and Tylenol all day and all night because he was so miserable.  I suspected it was RSV because the Wednesday before Thanksgiving I was greeted with a sign on his classroom door that said "Attention Parents: There is a case of RSV in the classroom."  Awesome.  With Jack's existing breathing problems, RSV is the last thing he needs.

By the Wednesday after Thanksgiving, after almost 4 full days of keeping him drugged on painkillers and round-the-clock breathing treatments, we were in getting a chest x-ray for pneumonia.  It came back negative, and I thought he was on the mend (although we were still getting no sleep because every time we laid him down he'd cough constantly and struggle to catch his breath).  By the next Monday (12/7) I was convinced he wasn't getting any better.  The doctor told us to come in the next morning, so Kyle took him to his appointment and Karys and I were off to work and school--or so we thought.  Jack's blood oxygen concentration was only 87%, and the doctor wanted him admitted to the hospital.  Karys and I met them at the doctor's office, and off we went to the hospital (same one where he was born and was in the NICU).

By the time we were at the hospital, his oxygen level had dipped to only 82%--it was so low the computer wouldn't let the technician enter the number into the computer without confirming that it was, indeed, that low.  They immediately started him on oxygen (he loooooved having those tubes stuck up his nose, let me tell you) and suctioned him out (he loooooved being restrained and having saline shot up and then vacuumed out of his nose, let me tell you) and started an IV because he was dehydrated and had already lost 2 lbs (he looooved having a giant needle jabbed into his arm while the nurses fumbled and jiggled it around, let me tell you). 

For the next few days I spent all my time with him at the hospital (I did bring my laptop and got exactly 2 minutes of work done) while Kyle came back and forth to bring me the never-ending list of things I was asking for, all while he held down the fort and took care of Karys.  One night my mom came over to watch Karys, and Kyle stayed in the hospital with us so that I could actually use the restroom.  The problem was, I had requested a regular size bed in his room so that I could lay with him (instead of sleeping in a chair while he lay in a crib), which was great except I couldn't go more than two feet from the bed.  He was tied to the oxygen and the IV, and I couldn't leave him on the bed to go to the bathroom because he'd fall off.  The nurses were usually pretty nice about watching him for a minute, but I was at the mercy of their schedule--which was slightly different than my bladder's.  It also turns out his iron levels were low, too, probably because he flat-out refuses to be spoonfed iron-fortified  cereal (or anything else) and immediately vomits his multivitamin drops.  He's so independent he wants only table food that he can feed to himself, but he doesn't have enough teeth to make that very productive.  The dietary staff got really creative and sent up every possible source of protein they could find (they even made a special trip to HEB to get Gerber vienna sausages--barf, but so nice of them).  Of course Jack was feeling so bad and was so wary, after all the meds shoved down his throat, of anything we tried to give him, and wouldn't eat a thing.  Not even one bite.  For days.

He got IV steroids, iron drops, albuterol treatments every 3 hours, inhaled steroids, and IV fluids.  They came in and tested his vitals every couple of hours, and they wouldn't let him go home until he could maintain 93% saturation (which is still pretty low) on his own, without the oxygen tubes up his nose.  They tried to wean him off the oxygen twice on Tuesday and Wednesday, and it would drop all the way back down to 82%.  His blood pressure was high by the end of the stay because he got so anxious and would start crying every time someone in scrubs would come in the room.  I got thrown up on more times than I can count during this whole ordeal (including the time at home before we were sent to the hospital) because his gasping coughing fits were so intense they'd make him throw up.  Needless to say, we didn't sleep much (although I must admit, we took a couple of good naps with him sleeping on my chest--oh how I miss those newborn days when he did that regularly), and I worried endlessly.  The worst part is, I didn't see a smile from my normally VERY smiley guy for days and days.  It was so sad.

Eventually, of course, his oxygen levels came back up to 93%, and now we are home.  Phew!  If all goes well he'll be going back to daycare on Monday, after being gone for more than two weeks.  We've been referred to a pulmonologist who I think will probably be great and has already given us an "action plan" to keep Jack healthy and breathing well so that the next inevitable sickness from daycare doesn't send him back to the hospital.  He's on oral steroids for three more days, and from now on will take Singulair daily, Pulmicort/Flovent twice daily, and albuterol once a day unless he's sick and needs it more often.  We're so glad to be home, and I'm happy my tiny guy is slowly getting back to his old self.