Andrew's Emergency: Recovery

This is the fifth post to fill in the details on what happened with Andrew's emergency lung surgery last month. You can read the introductory post here.

Andrew had lung surgery on March 16, but stayed in the hospital until March 29.  Recovery was, as the surgeon described, like watching paint dry.  Sometimes we saw progress, but often, he appeared the same from day to day. 

He was in ICU for several days, but fortunately, his ICU room had a small couch where Damian and I could sleep, so we were still able to be in there with him.  Meals had to be eaten in the waiting room or in the cafeteria, and there was no restroom or shower in our room either, but we had access to one down the hall. 

While in ICU, he had excellent care around the clock.  Each nurse was only assigned two children to care for, and their rooms were side-by-side, so we saw the nurse constantly.  He had an IV and then later a feeding tube (with my expressed milk in it) and with all the gadgets attached to him, there was very little Damian and I could do for him.  We could comfort him if he was upset or just talk, sing, and pray over him.  We chose a life verse for him at this point, which we prayed over him, along with other verses. 

Sometimes it was very hard to see any progress.  We were doing pretty well, emotionally, until the Monday after his surgery.  We had seen no progress since Saturday, when he was alert and "talking."  On Sunday, he just slept, and by Monday, it seemed to us that he had regressed.  We had also had a rough night, with the nurses having a hard time controlling his pain, and he needed frequent suctioning of his nose, so we woke up several times to his screams.  Each time I woke up, I would just pray for Andrew until I fell back asleep again.  The respiratory therapist had also attempted to reduce his oxygen on Sunday, but had to turn it back up again because he wasn't handling it well.  The nurse said that it sounded like his breathing was diminished on his right side, the side that hadn't been operated on, but the doctor disagreed and said he sounded fine.  Still, we couldn't help but be concerned, and the x-rays were inconclusive on his progress.  The doctor said that since the x-rays were inconclusive, he would just go by Andrew's clinical appearance, which seemed fine.  But that Monday was especially difficult, because it seemed like he wasn't progressing and to us, it felt like he would be there in ICU forever. 

I prayed a lot and tried not to listen to the negative thoughts that were nagging me.  Sometimes I successfully took those thoughts captive by focusing on what was true & right (Philippians 4:8), but other times, I gave into thoughts that I might lose my baby.  It was a real battle.  An e-mail was sent out to the church for prayer, and it was amazing how much that encouraged me, as well as small things like encouraging Facebook messages and texts from friends, especially scripture.  Still, it was the toughest day we'd had yet.  But Tuesday morning, I woke up to the good news that Andrew was being moved out of ICU.  His progress was slow, but it was progress, and he was stable enough to be able to go to another floor.

We were moved to the wrong floor initially, and while we were waiting to be moved, the surgeon came by to check Andrew out.  She told me then that we'd try giving him a bottle on Wednesday.  I asked a question about how to burp him, and she looked at me with a shocked look on her face and asked if I'd been allowed to hold him.  No, I said, I sure hadn't.  She looked at the nurses in the room and said "Please, let this mom hold her baby.  She has got to hold him."  While we waited to move to the surgical floor, they got me settled into a rocker and configured the wires and cords so that I could hold Andrew.  It felt so good to hold my baby boy for the first time in five days, and I was so happy, I cried.  When I laid him down again in his bed so he could be transported, he gave me a sweet smile, his first smile since the ordeal began.  He loved the physical contact just as much as I did. 

Starting Wednesday, he could be fed, so we got to hold him several times a day for feedings, first with a bottle, and then by nursing him.  He started smiling all the time and was a very happy little boy. 

Andrew, 7 weeks old, on day 8 of our hospital stay.  We have many more pictures of him, but we're not sharing them publicly at this point.  I love his big smile in this picture, and it's actually the first picture we have of him smiling.

Things progressed very quickly after that.  His pain medications were reduced, and the main thing we were waiting on was the removal of his chest tube.  At 2:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, the nurse picked Andrew up to give him to me for a feeding, and spotted his chest tube still laying in his bed!  She and I both panicked a little bit.  It was quite frightening at the time.  If air started accumulating in his chest cavity, then he would need another tube put in.  They watched his vital signs closely and did repeated x-rays to watch his pneumothorax.  Fortunately, it did not increase, so he didn't need a new chest tube.  We were released from the hospital on Tuesday morning.

Where Did March Go?  Andrew's Emergency
Andrew's Emergency: It's Not Just a Cold
Andrew's Emergency: Flight
Andrew's Emergency: Surgery
Andrew's Emergency: Recovery
Andrew's Emergency: Mommy, I'm OK