Yesterday was a long day. We had to have B at the hospital at 7 a.m. for what we thought was an 8 a.m. CT scan. That�s when our appointment was. But, this being a busy hospital, things came up, the nurses and doctors got called away to take care of other patients, emergencies I�m sure, that we didn�t get the actual scan until 11 a.m.
First they had to put in an IV. I knew that was going to be traumatic for B. The first attempt was a failure. B jerked her arm when they inserted the needle, and something something there were bubbles something, it had to be removed. So they needed to try the other arm. Knowing what to expect the second time, B wasn�t having any of it. They taped a Styrofoam board to the back of her elbow to keep her arm stationary. She snapped it like a matchstick. Who knew she was so strong? It was like she turned into the Incredible Hulk right before our eyes. It took four adults to hold her down. She was screaming and crying. I was trying to comfort her while holding her shoulders down, P had her feet. It was terrible.
Finally, they got the second one in and taped down. It was a long time before B would calm down after that. It was all I could do to keep from bursting into tears myself. And it was all of 8:30 a.m. The nurse let us know that CT was backed up, and they wouldn�t be able to get us in until 9:15. We were fine with that. We could handle a 45 minute wait.
But then the anthesiologist got busy. They paged him, but he couldn�t get to us right away. So we waited and waited. Finally, he came in and did his short interview thing, took her medical history. Wondered if she would be able to lay still while they did the scans. Decided it would be better if she were asleep for it. We agreed.
More waiting. And we were all starving. Since B couldn�t eat or drink anything, we didn�t either, which turned out to be a mistake. P and I took turns sneaking off to the vending machines. Three hours waiting in that little room began to take its toll on B. She was restless and fearful, and just wanted to go home. Me too. At 11 a.m., the nurse came in to finally take us to the CT area. The guys there were great. They were actually all set up and waiting for us, so we were whisked right in. We tried to prepare B for the big donut machine as much as we could, but as soon as she saw it and all of the other equipment, she began to cry and grab on to me again. The doctor asked me and P to leave the room while he administered the sleeping gas, but B had other ideas. He ended up letting us stay while she fell asleep. She was terrified of the mask, and fought it, crying hard and screaming. Which ended up working to our advantage, because it caused her to take deep breaths. After about 30 seconds (she was given a fairly low dose), her tear filled eyes closed and she was asleep. Then we were asked to go to the waiting area, where I broke down and P comforted me.
They had to remove the second IV, as something was wrong and the doctor couldn�t get the dye to flow through it. So she came out of the CT room with another IV, this one in the back of her little hand. Poor baby. Poked all over the place. Recovery from the anesthesia took about an hour, with a lot of crying and begging to go home to her �big purple bed.� 1.5 hours later, the doctor signed B�s discharge papers and we were finally free. We didn�t leave the hospital until 2 p.m.
Except for all of the pokes in her little arms, she was feeling pretty good after it was all over. We were very hungry, so we headed out to our favorite little caf� and had a late lunch. We stuffed ourselves � even B ate well. Then we went home and spent the rest of the day resting.
I hope to hear from B�s doctor today. I will call his office for sure to find out when we will get the scan results.
One thing is for sure. Kids and hospitals do not belong together.
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