After 6 hours of waiting, we walked in…not sure of what to expect. I mean, I had images in my mind of what he would look like, after all, we had waked into the CCCU 4 times prior post-surgery. But this time, he was no longer a baby. This time he was a 6 year old boy.
The boy that was wheeled into the operating room high on medaz, laughing and giggling was switched with a boy, covered with tubes and wires, seemingly struggling to take every breath. He was, for the moment still, excepts for his gasps. Then he started writhing and ripping at tubes, punching the air and his eyes were filled with panic. We immediately went into CCCU Mode. Every instinct to grab and pick up your child is ignored, you push your emotions to the side, you become a medical advocate for this child in front of you. What medications are being pumped into him? What are his vital signs? What is being done for pain? What is the immediate plan? Is this in-drawing normal? How much O2 is he on? After a few moments, he stopped, almost as suddenly as it started. After a short ten minutes of peace, he once again began writhing. It was indescribably painful to watch. I had to fight off my own panic to help him calm down and settle.
Owen has been through so many procedures in the past that the sedatives are no longer as effective. He is much more alert and aware then the majority of kids who have just had major reconstructive heart surgery. They could no longer give him sedatives…as he was beginning to have apnea-like spells, signalling that if he received anymore medication, he would stop breathing altogether and have to be intubated. He was breathing through his mouth and his lips were beginning to crack and split. You could see his tongue and mouth were completely dry. Occasionally he would suck a few drops of water from a sponge.
This is how our night began. Every 10-15 minutes he would awake in a panic. At one point in the early morning hours he had kicked off one I.V. resulting in the foot of his bed covered in blood. Every time someone spoke or walked into the room he would bolt into the air. Ripping at the central line in his neck causing it to ooze blood. We quickly learned, that when he did wake up, our face was the first thing he had to see, otherwise, calming him from his hysteria was much more difficult. I took first shift, I am by nature a night owl and the late shifts were always mine. Brian, is an early bird so these shifts work well. There is never a moment that Owen is without my husband or myself while in the CCCU. By early morning, Owen was so exhausted that his bouts of sleep were stretching from 10 minutes long to 20 minutes. Though, every touch would cause him to jump. Any sudden noise would wake him. We had assumed as many nursing duties as we were legally allowed to do. The lights were dimmed and everyone spoke in barely a whisper. All to make this, the first 24 hours post op, as painless as possible.
Stay tuned next week for Laura’s next post about Owen’s recovery progress.