After Liam was born, we began the process of figuring out when to wake up and nurse. Actually, we had to figure out how to nurse. My night nurse wasn't much help, she actually left Matt and me alone to sink. This led to a very long Thursday night.
Anyway...
Friday morning, we "officially" woke up around 7 or 8. The changing of the guards (Matt going home, Sally coming in) was happening. I remember asking someone to open the window; I felt that it was super humid in my room. As I was asking for the window to be opened, a nurse came through my intercom and instructed me to take a deep breath. The oxygen percentage monitor was showing below 85% (oxygen levels need to be 90% and above). Deep breaths weren't happening, it felt like I was swimming and taking in a bunch of water. Matt recalls me saying "my chest feels heavy."
After Matt left, I ordered breakfast (french toast and scrambled eggs). Before my tray was delivered (30-45 minutes), I had an oxygen mask over my mouth/nose and multiple nursing staff crowded into my tiny room.
I had the pleasure of meeting a respiratory therapist, the OB that was on call from my medical group, the head doctor of ICU, and countless other medical staff. The head ICU doctor was explaining what may be wrong with me. All I know, he was speaking English but I had NO clue what he was saying. I kept looking over at Sally to make sure she was getting in and could explain the situation to Matt and Dad. The doctor was telling me that there were three possible things that may be wrong: pneumonia, embolism, or I aspirated debris into my lungs. In order to rule which was wrong with me, I would have to leave Liam in the postpartum ward and go get a scan and spend the night under constant watch in the ICU. Luckily, I was so sick and drowning in all of the fluids that I remained calm while they were telling me
I'd be separated from my newborn.
While I was waiting for my transport to my cat scan I was given a
chest x-ray and an EKG for my heart.
Around 3:00pm I was finally transported to get my cat scan (or MRI, I can't remember!). Whatever the test was, it showed that I did not have pneumonia or an embolism. When I got up to ICU, I had a bronchoscopy to determine if and how much fluid was in my lungs. Matt and Shane were in ICU while the procedure was being done. We were fortunate that Shane knew the tech; whom told him there was minimal fluid in my lungs.
Basically, I was drowning in all of the fluids they were feeding me through my IV.
Even though it was determined that I was not dying, I did not get the "get out of ICU" card. They kept me overnight to monitor my heart rate and my elimination of urine...
Changing a diaper in the wee hours...
Friday morning, we "officially" woke up around 7 or 8. The changing of the guards (Matt going home, Sally coming in) was happening. I remember asking someone to open the window; I felt that it was super humid in my room. As I was asking for the window to be opened, a nurse came through my intercom and instructed me to take a deep breath. The oxygen percentage monitor was showing below 85% (oxygen levels need to be 90% and above). Deep breaths weren't happening, it felt like I was swimming and taking in a bunch of water. Matt recalls me saying "my chest feels heavy."
After Matt left, I ordered breakfast (french toast and scrambled eggs). Before my tray was delivered (30-45 minutes), I had an oxygen mask over my mouth/nose and multiple nursing staff crowded into my tiny room.
I had the pleasure of meeting a respiratory therapist, the OB that was on call from my medical group, the head doctor of ICU, and countless other medical staff. The head ICU doctor was explaining what may be wrong with me. All I know, he was speaking English but I had NO clue what he was saying. I kept looking over at Sally to make sure she was getting in and could explain the situation to Matt and Dad. The doctor was telling me that there were three possible things that may be wrong: pneumonia, embolism, or I aspirated debris into my lungs. In order to rule which was wrong with me, I would have to leave Liam in the postpartum ward and go get a scan and spend the night under constant watch in the ICU. Luckily, I was so sick and drowning in all of the fluids that I remained calm while they were telling me
I'd be separated from my newborn.
While I was waiting for my transport to my cat scan I was given a
chest x-ray and an EKG for my heart.
Around 3:00pm I was finally transported to get my cat scan (or MRI, I can't remember!). Whatever the test was, it showed that I did not have pneumonia or an embolism. When I got up to ICU, I had a bronchoscopy to determine if and how much fluid was in my lungs. Matt and Shane were in ICU while the procedure was being done. We were fortunate that Shane knew the tech; whom told him there was minimal fluid in my lungs.
Basically, I was drowning in all of the fluids they were feeding me through my IV.
Even though it was determined that I was not dying, I did not get the "get out of ICU" card. They kept me overnight to monitor my heart rate and my elimination of urine...
Changing a diaper in the wee hours...
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