Be Joyful in hope, Patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Romans 12:12

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Monday, June 25, 2007

It's all in the numbers........

I'm a prisoner to them you know. They have complete control over me. I am obsessed with them.

Oxygen sats, heart rates, resps, temps, timers and alarms oh my!

There's 20 minute timers heralding the need for another "push" of nourishment sustained only by one small button in one small tummy. Fill R' up please.

Speaking of buttons....
When was the last time we changed that bad boy? One month? Two months?

4 hours......2 hours.....Keep those meds and breathing treatments coming round the clock....Thats 24 hours.

And once again those pesky numbers come into play.

Oxgyen sats that hover near "safe" zones but just as quickly can plummet straight to the depths of "danger danger" threatening ventilator support lest we quickly hoover that evil goober lurking every so silently ready to "plug" the lungs of my unsuspecting son.

Mountains of knowledge are to be found in one little heartbeat. One little heart beat that speaks for a child who can not. Heart beats during wake times that hang in the 60-70 range. Heart beats during sleep times that dip dangerously into the high 30's to 40's. This is all good because it means "all is well"........

Alarms that scream for my attention when "ANY" of the numbers begin to do a dangerous dance.

Its the heart beats rising into the 100's coinciding with Oxygen sats in the 80's and temps that are either too high or more than often too low. Hypothermic to be more specific. High means big bad bug and fighting. Low means big bad bug and not fighting. Septic to be more specific. All of which begin sounding the "mommy alarm".

What could it be? Pain? Nausea? Fever? Illness? All of the above?
Regardless it's not a good combination for this mommy who's a prisoner to the numbers especially when your on round 2 of antibiotics to treat one of the many super bugs that have taken up residence forming strong colonies within the confines of my young sons body. They can never be erradicated only "knocked down" enough so they remain "inactive".

This time the colonies are strong and ready for battle teasing us with walls of steel. Walls that thus far we've only been able to just penetrate but NOT knock down.

Lets do the math. Antibiotics x 2 rounds at 20 days each = 40 days of antibiotics with only a 2 1/2 week break in between.

At the moment I'm being taunted by the sounding alarms and the glaring red glow of low oxygen sats remedied only by CPT(Chest percussion therapy), breathing treatments and a good hoovering that only I can give. Suction so deep it reaches the tips of the toes clearing anything in its path all the while turning the lungs inside out giving them a good shake ridding them of any dust, goobers, plugs and any other offending foreign body causing those diminshed breath sounds and atelectasis to remedy themselves. Now to take those lungs and place them back nicely as I exit leaving a nice clean airway to breath. At least for a few more minutes.


It's after 4 a.m.......The bed is calling my name. I'll count the hours I have to sleep before the next "number" demands my attention all the while sleeping with ears alert to the "heartbeat of hope" and one eye open "watching" the red glowing numbers that continually keep me aware of my sleeping sons status.

Yep......I'm a prisoner to the numbers


Walking in his SONshine

2 comments:

Mama Bear June said...

Praying for you as you fight the battle of the numbers. Sending hugs your way.
(Love the song - the episode of Touched by an Angel that featured it had me an emotional, sobbing mess. At the time, my son with CF was the same age as the boy in the show!)

katy said...

Those numbers can make or break a day for you and Jophie. I'm hoping he isn't having a bad night..

Feed my Fishies