ER

On Thursday we took the three older girls to their pediatrician's office in Schaumburg. Brigitta was due for her 18-month checkup while she, Liesel and Ireland also needed to have their travel consult for our upcoming trip abroad. I'd noticed Ireland struggling to breathe a bit the past few days so I'd been giving her regular treatments of albuterol. When it was her turn to be examined by the doctor, he listened to her lungs. Then he listened some more. And some more. After checking her oxygen levels he immediately ordered a nebulizer treatment. He also wrote a prescription for a corticosteroid which he gravely told me we needed to fill and administer before we left town. Ireland had been so much her normal, happy self, no one noticed how bad off she was. The good doctor added that if Ireland didn't improve within the next couple of days we'd have to take her to the hospital. 

When I picked Ireland up from school on Valentine's Day, her teachers told me they'd given her the albuterol but she had gotten worse as the afternoon progressed. On the way home Ireland was coughing even more and listless. She miserably cried that she wanted to go to the hospital. So for the second Valentine's Day in a row, Brent and I parted ways while I took Ireland into the ER. After telling the army of nurses, residents, and the supervising doctor how long she'd been sick, what she was on, taking chest x-rays and checking and rechecking oxygen levels, Ireland was admitted for an overnight stay. 

Its both touching and a bit funny to see so many professionals all tied up in my little 3-year old. Note how she is not the least bit phased as she intently draws. 

The hospital has cable and well, we don't at home. Here Ireland is enjoying fruit snacks and Spongebob Squarepants. The bun I gave her and tied up with a red ribbon speckled with hearts is smooshed beyond recognition. 

After a while, we were moved from the ER to the Pediatrics Unit. Ireland had fallen asleep but woke up during the move. In a hoarse voice she cried, "I wanna feel BETTER!"  We were put in isolation which sounds really dramatic but just means we were in the furthest corner room and anyone who came in had to wear a mask, gloves and gown. If I left the room I was to notify the nurse. Any food that came in our room could not be put into the fridge in the nutrition center. 

Ireland was borderline with her oxygen at 88 so they tried a nasal cane. She knocked that out again and again so they tried a mask. She also knocked that off her face. Finally they just propped the mask up next to her face as she slept and that seemed to do the trick. Her oxygen went from high 80's to low 90's. By morning she was solidly in the mid 90's. Initially she slept very fitfully, coughing and waking up often. Finally she was able to really sleep and when they came in for her routine albuterol treatment at 4am I told them to skip it and let her sleep. 

As luck would have it, the supervising doctor in the Peds Unit is a member of our ward. After discussing Ireland's condition, he insisted I feel free to call him if she has problems in the future. He even told me to leave a message with his wife. There's no better advantage to the mom of an asthmatic than a doctor's home number! He'll never know how grateful I am for that offer (which I may have to take him up on)! He was truly fantastic. Not only was he respectful to my thoughts and opinions on Ireland's condition, he treated me like I had a brain. He even handed me the stethoscope so I could listen to Ireland's lungs myself.

In the morning she got chocolate milk and pancakes. Not bad, eh?

Getting her blood pressure taken. As you can see, Ireland was a little tired of being poked and prodded by then.

Remember the trouble I had getting an appointment with a pulmonologist? Turns out you get seen rather quickly when you go through the ER. Thankfully this doctor felt it was best to test for allergies so we can determine for sure what is triggering these acute attacks. I'd like to avoid putting Ireland on a daily medicine but I'd also like to avoid trips to the ER.

Our fashion bracelets. She's getting quite a collection of these! I'd brought some sewing projects to work on which is why I have the thimble.

There's nothing like going to the hospital for something like this that reminds you to be grateful for the health you do have-- especially in the Pediatric Unit. In the morning I went out to grab some crayons, stickers and coloring books for Ireland when I ran into another parent. He was carrying his little girl, about Ireland's age, in her hospital gown and pushing her IV along with them. Like me, he looked very tired but determined to soothe the darling who had her messy head resting on his shoulder. They looked like they'd been in the hospital a long time and I said a silent prayer for them. A few hours later Ireland skipped out of the hospital with me, excited to show Liesel her new sticker book and tell her all about Spongebob Squarepants and pancakes for breakfast.