Sunday, September 26, 2010

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Woulda, coulda, shoulda

Today started early. Colton, Logan's twin, gently woke me at 630 by screaming at the top of his lungs and demanding cookies. I have no idea how Logan slept through it, since his crib is right next to his brother's.  Let me just say... I am not a morning person. I never have been. I get up because I have to.. and I really don't like it.  I am not pleasant or coherent until I have caffeine running through my veins, and even then, it's best not to ask me important questions until noon or so.

Early mornings are not my friend, and this is why: I can never get back to sleep, and I inevitably start in on the "woulda, coulda, shoulda". I have said for years that I have an overactive guilt gene. Paired with my overactive mothering gene, this can be annoying. Toss in an overactive "I need to know", and it just gets too stupid for words. Let me explain. Be warned, this could be a bit lengthy.

Today's woulda,coulda, shoulda is brought to you by Tuesday, September 7. Tuesday, September 7 was a hell day. I had dentist appointments for two of the monsters "in town". We live in the sticks of southern Utah, and "town" is 40-ish miles away. My 16 and 12 year old monsters stayed with the twinnies and the 5 year old monster, and I took off for town with the 10 and 14 year old monsters. The excursion was uneventful... fillings and extractions~ followed by hisses, curses, evil looks and promises of "very bad things" by the 10 year old as I hustled her off the the van and apologized profusely to the office staff. ( It should be noted that the 10 year old is a drama queen, and LOUDLY told the dentist he was a child abuser after he finished her fillings. I foresee a rate hike on the dental bill for that little comment....)

We returned home to a clean, peaceful house. I was pleasantly surprised that no one was in tears, there was no tattling or accusations of violence, and everyone was glad to see me. They were smiling, for crying out loud! It was a little bit Twilight Zone, a little bit Stepford Wives. Except for the 10 year old, who was still very verbal with her belief that dentists are child abusers. Besides, there were people at home that had not heard the 45 minute rant we were treated to on the drive back, so she had to start all over to make sure everyone had that pleasure.

I realized that Logan wasn't in the group of smiling children ( note to self: when children smile, be afraid... be very afraid.), and asked where he was. The eldest monster explained that Logan was tired, so she had put him down for a nap. Now. It's 5pm. Never, never, never EVER put a child down for a nap at 5pm. After gently explaining that this was not the best idea  ( it went something like this, " WHAT?!?! how long ago did you put him down? Is he already asleep? Oh no! No no no no no no NO! Hurry quick fast and get him up... it's too late for a nap. Aw, maaaaaaaaaaan!"), monster #2 went and got Logan up.

Logan was sleepy. Couldn't keep his eyes open. So, I told #2 to bring Logan to me so I could play with him and wake him up a bit. It goes downhill from there. As soon as I got Logan, I noticed that he was yellow. Really very yellow in comparison to his twin and the other monsters. But his eyes were very white~ no yellow tinge at all. So, I had a little come apart, freaked out on the Daddy monster for a minute, then called the doctor's answering service to see what to do. While I'm on  the phone ( still holding Logan), Logan's eyes rolled up to the back of his head and he passed out. In my arms. We couldn't wake him. I was screaming, and hung up on the service, trying to wake Logan. This is how Logan has seizures. He completely shuts down. After two minutes, we finally got Logan awake, and I was on the phone again. The service didn't mess with me. They connected me directly to the pediatrician's cell ( THANK YOU, smart phone service person). We decided together, that it was smarter to go to St.George instead of Cedar City ( where the pedi is) because they have a trauma rated ER and bigger, better, shinier, fancier equipment and could do an MRI.

Ben was out the door with my car keys, Logan , monster #1,and the diaper bag and driving down the road before I really knew what was happening. Wait! Wait..... wait for me!  I wanna be there, too! Giant, worried Momma tears rolling down my face at this point, and I was at home instead of flying down the highway with Logan. And then.... the texting begins.

We are all about texting in this family. Grocery lists, threats of violence if a certain 16 year old isn't home in three minutes or less, declarations of love, hate, and "mom can i have some money" all come through by way of text. I'm texting at the speed of light, trying to hasten arthritis and carpal tunnel syndrome. I'm texting medical history, medication info, allergies, diet, doctor info and all manner of pertinent information to Ben as he drives so he will have it upon reaching the hospital.

Once they got to the hospital.... things REALLY went downhill. 1) we didn't use an ambulance, so this is not an emergency. End quote. 2) Logan is acting fine and not bleeding, therefore it's not an emergency 3)They don't do MRIs at night. Someone should have given Logan the memo. 4) They won't do an MRI, but how about a spinal tap as a consolation prize 5) this is not an emergency. They will get to Logan when they dang well please.

I'm getting all this information from Ben one minuscule text message at a time, and pacing laps around the house and thinking, if I was there, I would raise hell and creation until the MRI got done. I mean, seriously. If there had been a 40 car pile up on the interstate, they would have yanked an MRI technician out of bed. So... yank the technician out of bed already! We only have a small window of time to see what's going on after a seizure!!! I would have thrown a Momma bear fit until they called security and got the test done. If I was there. I would take the doctor aside and impress him/her with my knowledge of Logan and make them understand why we need this MRI so badly. If I was there. I would have turned the air blue when they started trying to placate Daddy by offering spinal taps. If I was there. I would make them call the pediatrician again and verify the necessity. If I was there.

Fast forward roughly 7 hours from the time Logan left with Daddy to go to the hospital. They have, at this point, done a chest xray,  liver function,  CT and a CBC, and everything is coming back clean. The one thing they came for, that our doctor called ahead to order before  they got there, the MRI... wasn't done.  They decided to keep Logan overnight anyway. My father took me to town at midnight so I could be with Logan in the pediatric unit overnight and Ben could take monster #1 home, get a few hours sleep, get the kids off to school and go to work. The nursing staff was phenomenal. I grilled Logan's nurses, I made them go through every page of his chart with me. I made them tell me about every test Logan had been through. I spent an hour talking to them about his allergies, medications, and history. And they LIKED it! I got praise and admiration... just for being Logan's mother. I couldn't understand why this was so unusual.. a mother knowing the answers to every question they asked.

Nothing happened during our overnight stay at the priciest hotel in town. That's really what it was. A $4,000 hotel stay. No more tests, no concern, no monitoring of Logan except a sugar water IV and one of those annoying toe things that monitors heart rate. And in the morning, during rounds, the pediatrician on call came in and told me that there was nothing wrong with Logan, had never BEEN anything wrong with Logan, and he strongly doubted that there had been a seizure at all. But, just to make me happy, he had ordered an EKG before discharge. It was only by divine intervention that I didn't slap the man. We did the EKG, and went home.

Two days later, we saw our pediatrician for a follow up. Suffice it to say that he was livid. But it was too  late. The only thing that could be done now was an EEG to see if Logan has a seizure disorder. So we did. He doesn't have a seizure disorder.

Fast forward to today. We still have no answers. We'll have to wait until Logan has another seizure, and then call the pedi, stay on the phone with him while we drive to Cedar City, go to the ER, and get flown by MedEvac up north to Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake City. And all because of that stupid MRI that the hospital refused to do. But there will always be the woulda,coulda, shoulda. Somehow, in my irrational Mommy mind, I woulda, coulda, shoulda been able to make that test happen, make the doctors do their job, figured out something that would have helped Logan.

This morning, Ben told me that I expect perfection of myself, and he wished I wouldn't be so hard on myself. Here's the question, y'all: doesn't EVERY mother do that? Seriously.....


Dena Page, M.Ed., CBA said...

How does a kid learn to walk? By falling a few times and figuring out how not to fall down. Parenting's a bit like that, too. He's okay. You're okay. And next time will be different. (FWIW, your doctor also got a skinned knee with that experience.)

Caryn said...

You make a good point, Dena. Thanks for that.

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