Ashton came through with his port implant, spinal and first injection yesterday very well…until…he woke from anesthesia in a bad way. They called me in to recovery and he was beside himself. He was, understandably, on oxygen and began to calm down slowly while he rested on me.
When they wheeled us back upstairs, I was laying next to him and something seemed immediately suspect. His chest was sinking in, as was his throat and his nostrils were flaring. I said, within a minute, something isn’t right and pushed the call button. Within two minutes, I think we counted something like 30 people in the room, including a Chaplain.
His airway was nearly closed and he was panicking and gasping for air, thrashing around the bed, cords and lines tangling and he was just terrified. Two nurses were trying to hold him down, only making it worse.
A very wise resident said leave him alone, don’t touch him! We somehow got the mask near enough to his face to get him a bit of oxygen and the resident said, “get him some Ativan.” After an X-ray there on the bed with me right next to him, they ascertained his airway was dangerously tiny.
We were then wheeled down to ICU where he received Heliox rather than oxygen as well as steroids (x3), platelets and a plethora of other things to relieve him. He slept with the mask on and the aid of Ativan for about 8 hours and I watched his chest most of the night. We had the best nurse that night, named Erin.
After he woke up, he was still in distress. I can’t remember how many doctors, respiratory therapists, nurses we saw last night. He’s had the mask on most of the day until a couple of hours ago. He has since stabilized, though his airway is still messed up. He finally got ice chips, later, some juice and to his delight, a donut! With Sprinkles!
Now he is resting peacefully as we await the green light to leave ICU
I was really afraid he was going to suffocate. He is such a stubborn, little child, though. I should have known he would pull through it, even in all his fear.