Those words hit you hard.
Monday, Lillian had been diagnosed with a double ear infection after having a small cold all week. She was on a pretty strong antibiotic – Omnicef. In fact, by Tuesday, she seemed to be doing pretty well. Didn’t need pain medication, drinking milk, low appetite but no fever.
Wednesday, I woke Lillian and Ella up for school and Lil was pretty sluggish. I’m usually in awe of Lillian’s morning spunk. I can walk in their room and say my usual, “Good morning ladies!” as I open the curtains and Lily will go from sleeping sprawled on her tummy to standing up with a giant smile ready to roll in about two seconds. It’s amazing. Wednesday she just laid there, nodding off again. After dressing Ella, and retrieving Lillian I knew immediately she was feverish. I told Loran I was going to bring her into the pediatrician’s office. I figured since we hadn’t seen them on Monday, we could find out if her antibiotic was appropriate for her or needed different dosing, etc. Loran offered to bring Ella to school and I called the pediatrician. Our doctor could see us in the afternoon but I really wanted to get the ball rolling sooner. I asked if there was an earlier appointment with any doctor. Luckily, they had a 9:30 appointment so Lily and I snuggled for awhile, had some milk and she fell asleep again before I bundled her up to get ready to go. As we were leaving I made the executive decision not to lock the house. I had my feverish little lump in my arms and figured I’d be back in an hour.
Once at the doctor, Lillian had a 103.5 temp and was breathing really fast and hard. She was falling asleep on my lap as we waited for the doctor and the nurse gave her ibuprofen right away. We waited a few minutes for the doctor who knew right away Lily wasn’t doing well. They didn’t even check her ears, they immediately were assessing her breathing. Her chest sounded tight and there was a crackle on the right side, they hooked her up to a pulse/oxygen monitor and the numbers weren’t good. They decided to give her a nebulizer treatment right there after calling Children’s Hospital in St. Paul for advice. I didn’t realize at the time that they were calling Children’s to let them know that Lillian was on the way. As she received the neb treatment, which she didn’t fight at all, they told me that they were going to send her to Children’s Hospital, and we’d be going by ambulance, which had already been called. Lillian was in respiratory distress. I broke down crying, Lillian lay in my arms, a little lump breathing hard – it was surreal. I called Loran, who thankfully was able to answer at work, and told him, (sobbing) “They’re taking Lillian by ambulance to Children’s in St. Paul.” He immediately replied, “I’ll meet you there.” and hung up. The pediatrician and nurse were amazing, very comforting. The nurse asked if I needed anything from my car, helped me pack my purse and gave me some water. The pediatrician was explaining why they were sending her, what the numbers on the pulse/O2 meter meant and what they should be for my presumably non-smoking, non-obese daughter. She was registering in the high 80s/low 90s for oxygen and she should have been 98-99%. For Lillian’s discomfort, she was paid in stickers. She left the office clutching four big stickers – a true sign of bravery.
Paramedics arrived almost immediately. It was eerie to see that big red ambulance sitting outside the exam room window, knowing it was for us. They did a little paperwork, got the details and off we went. Lillian did not want to be strapped down on the gurney, so they suggested we put her in a built in car seat they had in one of the seats, it meant that I couldn’t sit by her. She cried as I strapped her in, I was happy to see some fight in her. The paramedics didn’t want to see her crying, but I assured them that I had strapped a screaming, healthy Lillian into a car seat many times. This wasn’t anything to be worried about. They gave her a stuffed puppy to hold and keep, that simple act meant the world to Lillian. Someone knew, when that puppy boarded the ambulance that the little girl who would eventually receive it in her time of need was not only an animal lover, but a puppy lover. She was quiet on the ride and received another neb treatment, without fighting it. I left sobbing phone calls for my parents, and answered questions for the paramedic about our address, insurance, etc. They asked if it was my first ambulance ride, which it was. I told them I was happy to be sitting up and not strapped to the gurney. I hope it’s my last ambulance ride too.
Once at Children’s, we got the behind the scenes tour of the ER through the ambulance entry. It’s not nearly as cheerful and friendly as the front doors we’d used previous. Loran had beat us there by fifteen minutes and he was a welcome sight to see. Lillian was immediately hooked up to monitors, we saw a nurse who took her vitals and the doctor shortly after. Lily got an IV so she could receive fluids and was administered a high dose of antibiotics (basically her ten day course of Omnicef in a couple of hours) which she took like a champ. Not a whimper. However, she eerily seemed to go somewhere else during this procedure. I was looking her right in the eyes, but she seemed to be looking past me. Blinking, breathing, but not really present. It was awful. They also did a test for RSV where they stuck a tube up her nose hooked up to a syringe of saline, they shot some saline in her nose and then sucked it and some other junk out. She was completely present for that test, and angry. Then we took her to radiology for a chest x-ray. Puppy and blankie were along for the ride. They had to strap her down with big Velcro straps so she wouldn’t move for the x-ray. She was pretty anchored down, but that’s when my baby showed them whose boss. Lillian started busting through the restraints – like the Incredible Hulk – baby style! They even remarked that they hadn’t seen a 23 month old with such strength, especially since she’s so tiny. Yeah! Fight ‘em Lil!!
At first, they thought she had pneumonia based on her x-ray, but that was eventually ruled out. She did test positive for RSV and later her diagnosis was bronchiolitis caused by RSV (different from bronchitis). While RSV is very common, and most people have had it by the age of 2. In children and adults it presents itself as a common cold. In small babies it can be deadly. Lillian is luckily not a small baby, however, bronchiolitis which is also very common is also a major cause of morbidity in children according to the U.S. National Library of Medicine. We’ll file that fact under “Things I’m Glad I Didn’t Know at the Time”.
After five hours in the ER, Lillian was moved upstairs to a room where she would spend the night to be monitored. Time in the ER is a strange thing. If you had to wait five hours at an airport gate, in the dentist’s waiting room…really anything, it would seem like an eternity. In the ER, there is no time. Sure, there was that giant clock in the room ticking away, but time didn’t seem to exist. Five hours didn’t seem long, didn’t seem short. It just was what it was. We were just there. It was an odd sensation. Lillian was monitored, checked, given milk and crackers. Our friend Jakey brought lunch for Loran and I. We received calls from family, from pastors at church, emails, my Facebook was erupting with support. It was almost overwhelming to see everyone’s love, prayers and support. It’s so comforting to know that when bad things happen, there truly is a village of people who stand behind you, love you and pray for you when you really need it. On days when I feel lonely, I’ll think of those people, and know…not lonely, they’re there. My parents met Ella off the bus – and here’s another God-thing. I hadn’t locked the door. I always lock the door. They were able to meet Ella off the bus, go in and take care of her until my aunt came to stay with her overnight.
I felt I was all cried out, until I saw my baby on that giant gurney being wheeled through the halls, machines trailing behind her, moving up to the fourth floor. That choked me up. The reality of staying in the hospital with your little baby, dressed in a hospital gown, curled up clutching her blanket and puppy. That is heartbreaking.
Once on the fourth floor, our nurse James made us feel right at home. He gave us toothpaste and toothbrushes, linens, pillows and helped us get settled in. Took great care of Lillian and was just kind as can be as he got her set up in her hospital crib. We settled in, ordered Lillian some food and waited. Then, her food arrived and as it was set down on the table, we heard this little voice say, “Ohhhh….fooooood!” some of the first, non-pleading, words we’d heard from Lillian all day. She started eating cut up grapes like it was her job. Sampled some cheese, some peas, a noodle or two. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than she’d had in a couple of days. With that, she had a little more energy. Loran was able to play with her a little, blowing raspberries on her tummy. We were hearing giggles, seeing smiles. She still looked horrible, but her personality was returning a bit.
As bedtime neared, Loran ran home to tuck Ella in and pack bags for us. He thought of everything we could possibly need, including books, snacks, phone cords, Ducky, a sleeping mat for the fold-out couch – everything, we were set! We decided to swap the crib out for a hospital bed so I could sleep in the bed cuddling Lillian. That seemed to work better as she was NOT going to lay in that crib once her spunk was returning a little. And, Loran and I on the little pull-out couch would have been comical to say the least. Before bed, Lillian got another once-over, received a neb treatment and pain meds. She was curled up next to me and fell asleep pretty easily. Not that I received much sleep, with a sweaty little Lillian hogging most of the bed, nurses coming in every two hours to check her stats and IV and then me keeping an eye on her O2 levels. She set the alarm off a few times overnight. All but one time were because she had moved, kinked the wire or kicked off the monitor that was on her toe. One time she twisted the lead, but even when fixed, her O2 levels weren’t going up. That one time, I did have to give her Oxygen until it leveled off in the upper 90s. She refused to wear the oxygen mask. It even looked like a penguin! The nasal cannula was a definite NO! So the best we could do was have a hose emitting oxygen and try to place it near her head and under her nose if she really needed it, like the one time. However, Lillian’s stats were doing great, she was hanging out at 97/98%.
Once the morning came, Loran headed out to get Ella off to school. Lillian awoke and was still looking pretty sick, but had a bit more personality. I ordered her breakfast, which took forever to arrive. When Loran came back, he stayed with Lillian while I went to get my own breakfast in the cafeteria. I was so groggy, I couldn’t even find the cafeteria, even though it was well marked. Nurses had to give me directions, and I still went the wrong way, which they corrected. Yikes. When I got back, Lillian was plowing through a box of raisins we’d gotten from the family room. Once her food arrived, she ate alright and was talking, playing with puppy and Loran and watching PBS shows. Her nurse said to be discharged, she had to keep her O2 levels above 92% on room air for four consecutive hours, including sleep –which she’d done overnight. She had to be taking in/eliminating a proper amount – check. The respiratory therapist came in to administer her neb treatment and this time, she didn’t sit back and take in that refreshing medicated mist from her dinosaur mask. No, this time she fought. She arched, rolled, screamed and kicked. We had to hold her down to get the treatment done. Another great sign! The doctor came in during rounds around 11, checked her, and said she was okay to go home! Hooray! We had to keep her from groups like daycare, church nursery, etc. for a few days until she seemed back to normal (however, they said she’d still have the runny nose and cough and that was okay). She did not need the rest of her originally prescribed antibiotic, and just keep her hydrated. With that news, Lillian’s nurse came and freed her of her various wires and tubes. For the first time in over 24 hours, Lillian was able to walk around, and off the bed! A lump no more. She got out of bed and started dancing around, hopping and showing off for anyone who would look. She was free of her wires, changed from her purple hospital gown and into some footie pajamas and ready to roll! Her eyes still looked sick, but she was on the mend. She then sat on the floor and started spinning in circles on her butt – breakdance style. Really hamming it up.
Eighteen hours prior, she arrived on the floor a pathetic, feverish lump. She was then strolling out under her own power, with a few little struts, wiggles and dance moves thrown in for good measure. Hard to believe it was the same child.
Once in the car, she really started to shine. Talkative as can be. Once home, she was a wild woman. Jumping around, running around, playing, climbing, eating lunch with us. Happy as can be. It was delightful. Ella seemed relieved when she got off the bus to see mom, dad and Lillian home. However, one of the first words out of Ella’s mouth when I met her at the door after Loran got her off the bus, “Wow! Mom! You have blue under your eyes!” Umm…thanks for pointing out my complete lack of sleep.
Another sign of recovery, in between jumping off of everything, Lillian went into mommy-mode and covered Loran in blankets. She’s our little mommy. She was also trying to feed Loran from her food tray in the hospital.
That night, after putting the girls to bed early, we were quick to follow and it was hard to sleep, despite being desperately tired. The night prior, I could just look at a screen and get a number to tell me how my baby was doing. Now I had to rely back on my own senses. However, she had a great night, no scares and slept perfectly fine. And was once again, Little Miss Sunshine upon waking.
Ella, however, was another story. While all smiles and giggles, her eyes were pasted shut. Loran stayed home with Lily while I took Ella into the pediatrician’s office. Ella was diagnosed with viral pink eye, not the super contagious bacterial pink eye. She got her pink eye from wiping her runny nose into her eyes. Gross. She left with a prescription for eye drops and the okay to go to school. As we were leaving, the doctor who’d initially seen Lily stopped me to talk and see how she was. I was happy to report good news and she was telling me that they had a meeting to see if they should have done anything differently. They and I agree that Lillian went downhill in the office, they said I brought her in at the perfect time, any later, and they’re not sure it would have been the same outcome. Frightening. I’d like to chalk it up to another God-thing.
Ella and I set off to Target to get her drops, waited the 20 minutes for it to be filled only to return to the counter to find out they were out. Off to another Target, wait another half hour for it and then get the pleasure of trying to put drops in a squirmy four year old’s eyes in the car. But, we did it! I dropped her off at school a mere 2.5 hours after the start…
I’m happy to say, that as of Sunday when I wrote this, Ella has clear eyes, Lillian is about 99% normal. She’s lost the cough, the runny nose remains, her breathing is steady and most important, the twinkle is back in her eye.
After all of that, I have to say huge thanks to the White Bear Lake Fire Department, our pediatrician's office and everyone we worked with at Children’s Hospital. Once again, they were amazing…Saturday’s mail even brought a card, addressed to Lillian, wishing her well, signed by each nurse that was in charge of Lillian’s care. Seriously…amazing.
And as I read more about RSV and bronchiolitis, and think of the “what ifs”, I can’t help but truly thank God for His timing in all of this, for the people He put in our lives and for being able to really appreciate my spunky little girl and see her healed and happy once again.
(And yes, we may have spread RSV to our friends in the South…so sorry, that is not Minnesota nice.)
Lillian says, sorry D’s for being a carrier monkey.
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