Thursday, May 3, 2012

Being Taken Off the Ventilator

We started the "dance" to get him off the ventilator four days later. Slowly cutting the medications back to let him breath on his own again. When he passed the practice test, he was cleared to have it removed. It was so nice to see his face, to see him breath on his own. And hear that scratchy cry, I missed hearing his cry. Everything went smoothly for about twenty minutes. We shuffled around the bed and cords and got to where I was sitting with him in my lap, and then it started. To be weaned off the drugs, you have to be on them for 5 days, Jack was on them for four days. Dr. Delgato made the hard decision to cut him off cold turkey. He was laying in my lap and the shaking began, then the sweating, the teeth chattering, and finally the writhing. He was coming down hard and all I could do was rock him, hold him, and put ice water wash clothes on him to cool him off. My husband held his legs down, and untangle tubes. There were IVs in three of his limbs and they had the boards taped to them to keep him from bending his wrist and ankles. Three IVs, the monitor stickers with the wires, the catheter, the external line coming off his chest, the oxygen on his face, it was too much to maneuver. His catheter came loose, pee went all over me. There was no way I could sit him down, let alone go change clothes. My heart ached for him, his eye were screaming, the loudest silence I have ever heard. Every nurse that came in called the doctor back, it was "too hard to watch". All four times she explained herself, she didn't want to give a child, that had just started breathing on his own, a sedative. I finally asked her, "Is what has to happen? Tell me. If I just have to help him work through this, just say so. I'll hold him down till it's over, just tell me I'm doing what I have to." She gave a long winded, and sympathetic, "Yes." Two hours later is subsided. He was still shaking, but we didn't have to hold him down anymore. He looked pitiful. Tired. Sad. Beat. Listless. But he was breathing on his own. That was the best and worst day ever, the hardest two hours of my life, I am so thankful he will not remember that.

No comments:

Post a Comment