So much for decompression....just over an hour after this morning's post, I dove into another adrenaline rush!
I had just woken up, sent my husband off to work, changed the baby's diaper, greeted the kids, and sat down to the computer to check my email, when I was approached by Jersey #2.
"Mom, my tummy hurts."
I barely get her to point to the location of the pain (which happens to be where her stomach is actually located in the abdomen), before she starts to gag. I suggest she run to the bathroom to puke....she makes it half-way there. I inspect the spewed contents while she washes her hands at the sink. I clean up the mess, while I explain to her what was in her stomach: apple juice and mucous. Yuck. I feel her forehead. She's warm.
OH NO! BEGIN PANIC MODE!
I take her temperature with both the ear thermometer and the forehead thermometer. Either way I look at it, she has a low fever. 100.2 Ugh. This is not good.
This is SO not good.
10 days after surgery, and she is at an incredibly high risk for infection.
5 out of 5 cardiologists (not 4 out of 5 like you hear on drug commercials on TV) have instilled in me last week that Jersey #2 is NOT to be running a fever of unknown origin. She must be checked out by our family doctor...and he is suppose to go through an entire checklist of clinic symptoms, in order to rule out various infections and heart failure.
Try explaining THAT to the new receptionist who hasn't met us yet! She insisted that Dr. S was completely booked today, but she could get us in to see someone else in the clinic.
Um, no. That will not do. This situation is critical enough to require the doctor who literally caught Jersey #2 when she entered this world. He is the one who picked up on her heart problem in the first place. He is the one who needs to assess her today. He knows her. Please have the nurse call me. I would prefer a person who has actually taken an anatomy class to decide whether this situation needs Dr. S specifically. Did you hear the words open-heart surgery on a 6-year old??? I am not sure when receptionists started dishing out medical advice, but there is no way I am leaving my daughter's health in such untrained hands.
The nurse calls me back within 15 minutes, listens to half of my story, and promptly tells me that Dr. S will want to fit us in today, under the circumstances. Yes, that is what I was thinking too.
In the meantime, Jersey #2 holds down her heart meds, Tylenol, and a cracker. She starts drinking water again and tells me she is fine. She tells me that the entire trip to the clinic. She naps on the way, which is another bad sign.
We get right in almost immediately. I semi-apologize for being such a panicked Mom like this. The medical assistant taking vital signs tells me she would have panicked too. Apparently my panic is very understandable, because Dr. S doesn't joke or tease. He greets us and tells me immediately that Jersey #2's Cardiologist called him on Friday. That let me know that he knows exactly what is expected from him, so I do not have to try to relay all of that information. This could be nothing. This could be serious.
He tries to make small talk with Jersey #2 about her surgery adventure, while he steadily goes through the various clinical signs of infection. He smiles more and more as he rules things out. Her throat is clear. Her ears are clear. He is almost surprised to report that her lungs sound real good (because she has been dealing with some collapsed lung tissue on her left side). Her abdomen is soft, and not in any pain. He says he is going to run a urinalysis too. I expect that, because it was one of the "extra" tests that her cardiologist wants run at times like this.
Her liver is not enlarged! HALLELUJAH! One of the scariest risks Jersey #2 has right now is infection to her pericardium, the tissue lining around her heart. One of the clinical signs of pericarditis...and also heart failure....is an enlarged liver. If her valve starts to have trouble, her liver will tattle. So, it is really good news to hear that her liver is its normal size.
Dr. S jokes that Jersey #2's heart is very musical. He is joking again, this is a good sign.
He sends us off to the restroom to get a urine sample. He walks back in the room a few minutes later and shows me the lab result: Negative. There is no increase in white blood cells. Her urine is not showing any signs of infection. This is good.
He assures me that Jersey #2 is not showing any clinical signs of infection. He jokes with her that it must have been her Mama's cooking! He's teasing again.....this is a good sign that all is well. He offers her a sticker.
He tells us to have a good day, asks about the siblings and The Referee's job, and reminds me to call him immediately if Jersey #2 spikes a fever.
I leave the clinic so relieved that I am practically shaking and ready to cry. Crisis averted.....for now. The window of the highest risk for infection are the first 3 months after surgery. Here's hoping I can keep my wits about me that long.
I had just woken up, sent my husband off to work, changed the baby's diaper, greeted the kids, and sat down to the computer to check my email, when I was approached by Jersey #2.
"Mom, my tummy hurts."
I barely get her to point to the location of the pain (which happens to be where her stomach is actually located in the abdomen), before she starts to gag. I suggest she run to the bathroom to puke....she makes it half-way there. I inspect the spewed contents while she washes her hands at the sink. I clean up the mess, while I explain to her what was in her stomach: apple juice and mucous. Yuck. I feel her forehead. She's warm.
OH NO! BEGIN PANIC MODE!
I take her temperature with both the ear thermometer and the forehead thermometer. Either way I look at it, she has a low fever. 100.2 Ugh. This is not good.
This is SO not good.
10 days after surgery, and she is at an incredibly high risk for infection.
5 out of 5 cardiologists (not 4 out of 5 like you hear on drug commercials on TV) have instilled in me last week that Jersey #2 is NOT to be running a fever of unknown origin. She must be checked out by our family doctor...and he is suppose to go through an entire checklist of clinic symptoms, in order to rule out various infections and heart failure.
Try explaining THAT to the new receptionist who hasn't met us yet! She insisted that Dr. S was completely booked today, but she could get us in to see someone else in the clinic.
Um, no. That will not do. This situation is critical enough to require the doctor who literally caught Jersey #2 when she entered this world. He is the one who picked up on her heart problem in the first place. He is the one who needs to assess her today. He knows her. Please have the nurse call me. I would prefer a person who has actually taken an anatomy class to decide whether this situation needs Dr. S specifically. Did you hear the words open-heart surgery on a 6-year old??? I am not sure when receptionists started dishing out medical advice, but there is no way I am leaving my daughter's health in such untrained hands.
The nurse calls me back within 15 minutes, listens to half of my story, and promptly tells me that Dr. S will want to fit us in today, under the circumstances. Yes, that is what I was thinking too.
In the meantime, Jersey #2 holds down her heart meds, Tylenol, and a cracker. She starts drinking water again and tells me she is fine. She tells me that the entire trip to the clinic. She naps on the way, which is another bad sign.
We get right in almost immediately. I semi-apologize for being such a panicked Mom like this. The medical assistant taking vital signs tells me she would have panicked too. Apparently my panic is very understandable, because Dr. S doesn't joke or tease. He greets us and tells me immediately that Jersey #2's Cardiologist called him on Friday. That let me know that he knows exactly what is expected from him, so I do not have to try to relay all of that information. This could be nothing. This could be serious.
He tries to make small talk with Jersey #2 about her surgery adventure, while he steadily goes through the various clinical signs of infection. He smiles more and more as he rules things out. Her throat is clear. Her ears are clear. He is almost surprised to report that her lungs sound real good (because she has been dealing with some collapsed lung tissue on her left side). Her abdomen is soft, and not in any pain. He says he is going to run a urinalysis too. I expect that, because it was one of the "extra" tests that her cardiologist wants run at times like this.
Her liver is not enlarged! HALLELUJAH! One of the scariest risks Jersey #2 has right now is infection to her pericardium, the tissue lining around her heart. One of the clinical signs of pericarditis...and also heart failure....is an enlarged liver. If her valve starts to have trouble, her liver will tattle. So, it is really good news to hear that her liver is its normal size.
Dr. S jokes that Jersey #2's heart is very musical. He is joking again, this is a good sign.
He sends us off to the restroom to get a urine sample. He walks back in the room a few minutes later and shows me the lab result: Negative. There is no increase in white blood cells. Her urine is not showing any signs of infection. This is good.
He assures me that Jersey #2 is not showing any clinical signs of infection. He jokes with her that it must have been her Mama's cooking! He's teasing again.....this is a good sign that all is well. He offers her a sticker.
He tells us to have a good day, asks about the siblings and The Referee's job, and reminds me to call him immediately if Jersey #2 spikes a fever.
I leave the clinic so relieved that I am practically shaking and ready to cry. Crisis averted.....for now. The window of the highest risk for infection are the first 3 months after surgery. Here's hoping I can keep my wits about me that long.
Now, let me go re-read my earlier post on decompressing, because I have already forgotten how....
Hopefully you don't have to repeat this part of recovery again!
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