I thought today's entry should be used to describe the typical steps that take place each time we visit the NICU, so that you can get a sense of it.
We usually go later in the evening, 9:00 or later. We do this for several reasons. 1. We're kind of night owls. 2. There are fewer people around in what can be a very crowded and small space during the day, so its Q...(you're not supposed to say quiet in the NICU, its bad luck). 3. At night you can park for free.
The Drive:
First, let me say that we love being with Thomas, but we hate going to visit Thomas. The drive is such an incredible beating, and its ONLY 10 freaking minutes. But doing it day after day for 3 months has grown very tiresome. Especially since we're spending more and more of our time there. We love it when we're there, but getting out of the house to go is tough. Our dog does not like it either.
Status Update and Small Talk:
Showing up late at night, you have to get buzzed in to the hospital, although its not a rigorous entry, just press a button and tell them where you're going. The NICU is on the top floor and access is strictly controlled. You have to sign in, show an id and get issued a pink sticker on your chest. All cell phones off. From there, you enter the wing where your child is. Then its time to scrub up, up to your elbow for 30 seconds.
Each time we enter, we approach Thomas and are typically greeted by the nurse that is watching him. Each nurse works a 12 hour shift, 3 days in a row, and on that shift they are charged with 2 preemies (on rare occasions, 3). Most of the time, both are in the same room, but because there are 5 beds, there's always a nurse that has to work 2 rooms. All of the nurses watch out for and back up the primary nurse, and, if your baby is especially cute (not referring to Thomas, just generalizing) all of the nurses make it their business to learn about him or her.
We then exchange introductions or pleasantries (we've met pretty much everyone, so new nurses are infrequent) and then Rebecca starts the inquisition. How is he, what does he weigh, how often and how much are they feeding him, is there anything scheduled? And so on.
Standing in front of the monkey cage:
This is where we stare at Thomas, tell each other how cute he is and wait for him to do something cool. If he's awake, he usually just stares back at us. The camera comes out and the snapshots start going, fast and furious. We'll foam up, maybe touch his hand or his head and kind of just stand there and talk to him. The nurses are all really good at creating little cocoons, swaddling Thomas and tucking him in. They do such a good job, that we're both always hesitant to disturb him and mess up the work they've done. Eventually though, we break the seal and its time to hold him.
The Big Chair:
They have these big, comfy chairs on wheels that they roll around to each bedside that have a foot rest and can recline. You have to get them right up to the bed, because of the myriad of wires and tubes that Thomas is hooked up to. Now that he's on the nasal canula, its a little easier, but its still takes some maneuvering. Once one of us and Thomas get comfy, it goes one of two ways, he's wide awake or he passes out. If he's wide awake, he's fidgety and can be a challenge to hold on to. Thomas doesn't cry, but he'll push and squirm and arch his back. If he falls asleep, it gets tough for us to stay awake too, especially if it's going on 11 or 12. One thing will throw the whole thing off though...
The Enemy:
Thomas' vitals are constantly tracked, his body temperature, which is pretty easy to maintain, his heart rate (should be in the 140s), his Respiratory Rate (between 30 and 50 breaths per minute I think?) and his Sat Level (the oxygen saturation in his blood, which they would like to be between 82 and 92%). Each one of these measures can set off an alarm if they go to low or too high, and can do so, just by a baby moving positions, so they are constantly going off in the NICU. Alot of times the baby works himself out, and things go back to normal.
Unfortunately, the monitor is right there, the numbers are easy to read and there is not a lot to do if you're not holding Thomas, or even if you are. So we constantly stare at the numbers and the lines. Its unavoidable, our eyes are drawn to it. Inevitably the Sat level is the first thing to drop and you sit there watching it, willing it to go up. The numbers are all loosely tied. If he desats for a long time, his heart rate can drop and then he Bradies. If he's having trouble breathing, as Thomas is with his nose right now, he'll take alot of shallow breaths and then then the Sat level will dip. Its a constant that we can do nothing about, other than stare at it like its a horrible reality show that you can't divert your eyes from.
End of the Visit Guilt:
After killing 2 or 3 hours, with the prospect of getting up in the morning, trying to fit everything into a smaller window the next day so that we can come back again, there is this beautiful, innocent child just laying there and it all makes it worth it and makes it very tough to walk away. You feel like you're not doing enough, that maybe you're not around enough, you'll miss something or Thomas won't connect with you. It makes it very hard to walk out and go home.
Then we do it all over the next day.
Thomas is up to 4 pounds, 4 ounces. I will update you tomorrow on the specifics of what is going on.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
OK, crying now. Thanks.
ReplyDelete~Jenn