I probably should have listed this as one of the accomplishments in last night's post, but "accomplishment" seems like such a boring fuddy-duddy word to describe being able to hold your baby after 9 days of barely being able to touch him for fear you would jostle his tube or close off his healing tracheostomy. (He had these two long stitches coming from his neck for five days – rip cords, or "Oh shit strings" as the infectious disease doctor called them. I can't remember if I blogged about them or not. They were there in case the trach tube dislodged and we had to yank open his trachea. Nice. They're gone now. Whew.)
I held Ike! Yesterday morning. It was wonderful. We buried ourselves in his tubes and wires and vent apparati and I did as best I could to hold him to me and rock him back and forth. I cried and cried. I cry even writing about it.
I don't know if I will get to hold him today. They have rearranged some of his medicine pumps to a stationary pole instead of a rolling pole. What a horrible two sentences for a mom to have to write.
His PICC line went in fine yesterday and they have sent off the tip of his central line to see if it was getting infected. Hopefully not. Good grief. He is on all the abx just in case, though. He is also on abx in case he has a staph infection brewing in his trach. Holy fuck, you guys, let's not have MRSA on top of all of this. The culture grew slightly over two days, but they said not to worry because everyone has the germ in their trachea, they are just being extra cautious to test for everything, and hopefully the staph that grew is not MRSA. We will have to wait another day or two.
This morning, though, Ike-a-saurus has been awake and looking around. He is off the smack for the most part (though they are giving him Methodone and Ativan to help him wean from the junk). It is both better and more sad – well, different sad – to see him. I'm so glad to see his eyes and to see him less puffy and more himself, but I am so sad to see him bewildered and frowning. He doesn't look that way all the time, but even for just the few minutes he does, it shatters my heart.
They are gathering for rounds outside the room I am going to run out there and see what the plan is for the day. Maybe it's: Take him off the vent and bring in margaritas and queso for everyone!