The paramedics arrived in short order. It is lucky we live just around the corner from the fire station. We were on our way to Cedar's Sinai in no time. When we arrived, she was dusky and crying. They ran an echocardiogram that took hours, urine tests, blood test, you name it. I was distraught. Trying so hard not to cry or panic in front of my 2 week old infant. If I was scared, she was certainly terrified.
Because we are Kaiser members, we were to be transferred. This took nine long hours. I was hungry, tied and very very worried. The pediatric room in Kaiser Sunset was a welcome solace to the 12 hours we had spent at the e.r.
In the morning, we were visited by a number of specialist and the head of the pediatric department. She would be observed carefully over the following week. She had an ultrasound of her brain, more blood tests, and eventually a sleep study. This was the most revealing. It determined that she had central primary sleep apnea. Basically, she would stop breathing for more than a minute when she was asleep. The head of pediatrics diagnosed her with "exceptional periodic breathing." His hypothesis was that she breathed like a premature baby, sometimes faster and sometimes slower. He expected that she would out grow it by two months of age.
We were sent home on an apnea monitor that strapped around her chest and supplemental oxygen. This monitor was about as useful as a broom at the beach. It would alarm that she had quit breathing. I would look at her and see that no such thing had occurred. It would alarm if she got sweaty, which happened quite frequently.
Two nights after coming home, the monitor alarmed. She was breathing. It alarmed again and hour later. I cleaned the leads. It alarmed again. This time my husband awoke and Bekah was crying. I told him to stay up with us. It had never alarmed so frequently and I was becoming concerned.
Bekah was becoming more and more agitated. I couldn't calm her. I couldn't sooth her and she couldn't nurse at all. Hours passed as Jeffrey and I took turns tending to her. She became cold and sweaty. Her head bobbed with every breath and the skin around her collar bone retracted each time she inhaled.
We called the advice nurse at Kaiser and were told to call 911. When the paramedics arrived, she was finally sleeping comfortably and her blood oxygen saturation was 100%. Maybe she was just colicky.
So we sent the paramedics away hoping not to return to the long wait at the e.r. needlessly.
The sun began to rise and I realized that Bekah hadn't fed in nine hours. I offered her a bottle, she just cried as the milk ran down her chin. I realized that she would have to be seen today. Determined to avoid the e.r. at Cedars, we prepared for the short bus ride to Kaiser West LA, just around the corner from our apartment.
She was sweating, so I wrapped her in the moby and headed out for the bus stop down the street. The morning was overcast and foggy. I looked at the baby on my chest. She didn't look good. "Does she look blue?" I asked Jeffrey. "It's just the morning light." We were fortunate not to wait too long. The bust arrived within minutes of our arrival. Bekah was in and out of sleep during the 10 minute ride, crying when she was awake. If she's crying, she's breathing...right?
We were in the e.r. in no time and were escorted to a room. Shortly, a Dr arrived. "Your baby looks sick. We have to intubate her."
No comments:
Post a Comment