8 Jul 09 (Cont’d)
1800 – The surgeon comes out and tells us the news. Apparently he had a disc battery in his esophagus from our DVD remote. Good news: they were able to get it out. Bad news: It did a lot more damage than they expected. He tells us that he’s going to be there at least through the weekend. He tells us to start taking turns at the hospital so that we don’t get burned out (best advice we got).
1830 – We get to see Joelly Bear for the first time and he has a feeding tube and arm restraints (so that he won’t pull the feeding tube out).
1900 – Joel goes back to his hospital room and is hooked up to a bunch of machines. He’s very unhappy.
2200 – I go home with Bo for the night and tell Andrea to call me if anything changes.
9 Jul 09
0200 – Andrea calls and says that they are moving Joel to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) because he is having trouble breathing. Because he can’t swallow, he’s getting a lot of fluid in his trachea. They finally prescribe some pain meds for him (they didn’t give him anything at first because it would mask a fever which would be the first sign of complications). Morphine is very good for him. He finally gets some sleep.
0700 – I get back to the hospital with Bo right before the doctors do their daily rounds. The ENT doctors want to do a CT Scan w/ a special dye to determine if Joel has a puncture in his esophagus. They’ll do it later that day.
0900 – Andrea goes home to sleep.
1000 – I burst into tears when one of the doctors comes up and starts talking about Joel as “the patient.” There is no worse feeling than seeing your child in excruciating pain when you can’t do anything about it. (Note to any potential docs: They are people, call them by their names when you are standing in front of them. And don’t keep calling me dad for the fifth day in a row…you know my name too.)
1400 – CT Scan is over, all is intact. He can start eating later tonight.
1600 – My dad and sister are coming down from MN to help out for the weekend. They call to say they left and will be down tomorrow.
2000 – Joel eats for the first time in 36 hours…through a tube.
2100 – The neighbor boy isn’t doing so well. He’s been in the hospital for months. It’s a sad place to be. We know that Joel will get better. We don’t know how long it will take, but we know he will get out of the hospital. Next door, they’re praying for one more day.
2300 – A night of 30 minute naps followed by 15 minute butt-patting sessions starts. I don’t know how it works. I’m tired out of my mind, but God’s given me something to get my lazy ass out of the chair every time to calm him down. I think I’m getting a taste of what it means to be a daddy. I wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.
