It's not quite 10:30am and we've already been down to the OR and back and had rounds and everything. Whew.
Dr. Fancy Pants downsized Ike's endotracheal tube this morning, which is a good thing. We'll see how he does with it today and tonight and then talk about when we can take it out. Ike's still on the ventilator, and still on all the sedation and paralytics, but his new airway looked good this morning.
I can only imagine what this kid is going to think when he wakes up. Probably something like, "WTF did you guys DO to me? Everything was fine and dandy and now I'm addicted to opiates and ketamine and I have to cough gross stuff up into my MOUTH instead of my trach? What GIVES, assholes?!" But hopefully he'll be able to adjust quickly.
We've been over and over everything with ENT, about how, after extubation some kids need the tube put back in for a few days because they're just not quite ready yet. Sometimes the surgery fails and kids are retrached. There is a whole host of possibilities. But we'll worry about that when we get there. Right now, we're just happy to have a smaller tube and a baby (whom the nurses call Wild Man) finally sleeping calmly. I hate that it's taken so many narcotics and opiates and paralytics to get him calm, but there just didn't seem to be anything else we could do.
Now that he's resting with his smaller tube, Steven and I will try to rest, too. We know from experience that a little one going through withdrawal is no fun, and that will be the next step. They've already started the Methadone and Ativan, even while he's still on all the other drugs, to try to give us a head start on hedging off the withdrawal symptoms.
Whew. Tired. Arduous. But being in the PICU has shown us how fortunate we really are. We are so fortunate, so blessed, it leaves me humbled and thankful. Very, very thankful.