I learned as an English major 20 years ago that writing effectively about poignant topics requires emotional separation. That is why I primarily craft objective posts. I am moved tonight however, to share a bit more about my experience and observations - subjectively.
After 10 days of consistent but gradual gains, our emotions were tested again. Will lost 1oz today, likely the result of an increased dose of diuretics. More concerning was his inability, over the past four hours, to stabilize oxygen saturation levels above 80 (desat), even with a 35% oxygen supplement. This condition seemed to worsen when Nichole and I held him.
These emotions are new to me - helplessness for the endangered child and the guilt of being helpless. I was also torn between optimism and pessimism, as I watched Nichole wrestle with her own emotions; she - like me before -was unsuccessful in bringing steadiness to Will's respiratory rate.
As Will's oxygen saturation levels dropped to their lowest of the night (40's), we held him swaddled in blankets across my knees, our hands together on his body, trying to calm him as his little chest pounded up and down rapidly, pulsating at rates over 100 times per minute. Nothing we did slowed his breathing. The severe desat episode lasted for approximately 30 minutes, the alarm flashing red and buzzing loudly overhead every 10 seconds. I hate that sound. I felt pain in my stomach and saw Nichole's in her eyes.
We are fortunate to have such great care and tonight's nurse stood by us the entire evening. She monitored Will closely and increased his oxygen in an effort to stop his desats. Eventually, he was placed back in the isolette and his breathing slowed to a lesser pace. At last report, about 1:50 AM, he was "sat-ting" in the 90's, well above the 80 that triggers an alarm. The roller coaster continues.
Back to objectivity tomorrow.
After 10 days of consistent but gradual gains, our emotions were tested again. Will lost 1oz today, likely the result of an increased dose of diuretics. More concerning was his inability, over the past four hours, to stabilize oxygen saturation levels above 80 (desat), even with a 35% oxygen supplement. This condition seemed to worsen when Nichole and I held him.
These emotions are new to me - helplessness for the endangered child and the guilt of being helpless. I was also torn between optimism and pessimism, as I watched Nichole wrestle with her own emotions; she - like me before -was unsuccessful in bringing steadiness to Will's respiratory rate.
As Will's oxygen saturation levels dropped to their lowest of the night (40's), we held him swaddled in blankets across my knees, our hands together on his body, trying to calm him as his little chest pounded up and down rapidly, pulsating at rates over 100 times per minute. Nothing we did slowed his breathing. The severe desat episode lasted for approximately 30 minutes, the alarm flashing red and buzzing loudly overhead every 10 seconds. I hate that sound. I felt pain in my stomach and saw Nichole's in her eyes.
We are fortunate to have such great care and tonight's nurse stood by us the entire evening. She monitored Will closely and increased his oxygen in an effort to stop his desats. Eventually, he was placed back in the isolette and his breathing slowed to a lesser pace. At last report, about 1:50 AM, he was "sat-ting" in the 90's, well above the 80 that triggers an alarm. The roller coaster continues.
Back to objectivity tomorrow.
Nice job Mark. Will is going to be proud of his daddy.
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