Not the stomach flu

Aiden came in our room Sunday (April 23rd) night with an upset stomach.  He threw up all night.  I had agreed to substitute teach on Monday so Brent stayed home from work with him while I went to the school.  He was still pretty sick when I got home Monday afternoon.  By Tuesday night things had gotten worse.  He was still vomiting and was now having severe stomach cramps. He couldn't get up to walk and so we were carrying him to the bathroom.  If you sat on the couch next to him, he would scream in pain. I texted my friend whose family had been sick days before to ask about her symptoms.  She sympathized with Aiden and described how sick she had been and how intense the stomach cramps had been for her.  I felt reassured that this was just a nasty stomach bug.  The vomiting had subsided so I figured he'd be much better by morning. 

Unfortunately, things were not better in the morning so I left a message with the pediatrician.  Hours later, they hadn't called.  I could tell he was very dehydrated and the cramping was very intense.  He would scream, "It's killing me, mom," with a look of sheer terror on his face.  By noon I was seriously worried and took him to urgent care. After a thirty second exam, the doctor told me solemnly that Aiden was very sick and needed to get to the hospital now.  I could tell he was very concerned. I told him I would take him in right away.  He said he wanted to call an ambulance for us but I assured him I would go straight there.  Aiden couldn't walk, so we put him in a wheelchair, loaded him in the car and drove to the emergency room.

I won't go into details of the hours that followed. My fears and worry were growing with each step. Everyone who saw Aiden kept saying things like, "Oh my, he looks awful," or " He is so so sick,"  or "Wow, I am so glad you brought him in." The guilt that came with each one of these comments was heavy.  The doctors suspected a ruptured appendix and ordered an MRI to see exactly what we were dealing with. They got an IV started and quickly gave him morphine.  He slept for the next several hours but would occasionally wake up screaming in pain.  I held his hand and told him to breath through it.  I told him to hang on.  I held back the tears and swallowed the lump in my throat. I needed him to be brave, so I needed to be brave.

They started talking about his low sodium levels and how he was at a very high risk for seizures and brain swelling (due to dehydration). Normal sodium levels were about 135, scary levels were low 120's.  His level was 116.  I thought it might be helpful to prepare myself so I asked what a seizure would look like and what I should do if that happened.  Bad idea. After the nurse answered those questions, I called Brent to give him and update and broke down.  I sobbed.   Everything was suddenly very scary.  I prayed for help.  I didn't want to ask the doctors if his life was at risk because I was afraid of the answer. 

After an MRI and several other assessments, Aiden was admitted to the ICU.  His appendix had ruptured.  The surgeon guessed it had happened about 6 days earlier when he spiked a fever (103) for a few hours.  That was three days before he had started throwing up and had no symptoms during that time.  Because it had been so long, the infection was very advanced.  The doctors discovered three large (cantaloupe sized) abscesses in his abdomen.  Removal of the appendix was the least of their worries. The infection was in his blood.  He was septic.  The infection needed to be under control before anything else could happen.  The next day (Thursday), Aiden went into surgery to drain the three abscesses.  The surgeon spoke to us and informed us that Aiden would be fighting this infection in the hospital for about two weeks.  At which time, he would go home on antibiotics and pain meds while his body healed.  Once the inflammation went down (about six weeks) we would come back for appendix surgery. 

Within 24 hours Aiden had two drains attached, a PIC line, two IVs, oxygen tubes, and a catheter.

We called family, posted to friends and asked for prayers. Brent gave him a blessing. His low sodium was the most immediate concern.  They pumped a high sodium concentrated saline into his IV.  The next morning, his levels were up out of the danger zone.  Brent and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.  However, he still looked like this.

He continued to have a fever. His electrolytes were monitored very closely.  His breathing was shallow and labored.  They continued fluids, antibiotics, morphine, and anti-nausea medication.

His whole body went from dehydrated to retaining large amounts of fluid. He gained 14 pounds in water.   His body swelled.  His left lung became completely full of fluid.  His oxygen levels were low.  They scheduled surgery to drain his lung on Monday morning.  We prayed that he could avoid another surgery during a time when he was so weak and sick.  His name was put in several temple rolls.  On the morning of surgery,  they took one last x-ray to check out the fluid levels.  His lung had improved and the operation was canceled.

I could feel divine power blessing him.  Each challenge could have become life-threatening.  Each problem could have become a huge issue.  But, none of them ever got that serious.  God was blessing Aiden.  He was blessing the doctors to anticipate problems, and implement solutions.  He blessed the amazing nurses and hospital staff who knew how to make him comfortable, when to hug me, and when to advise the doctors.  He was blessing Brent and me to be able to handle the stress.  He was watching and guiding and blessing.  Things could have been so much worse.  We were so blessed.

During this time, I posted to following:

Tonight Aiden has been pretty loopy. He's actually been hilarious to watch as he slays pretend dragons and talks to friends who aren't here. Then he opens his eyes and says "what the?!" A few minutes ago, however, he opened his eyes and said very loudly "Mom, I want a kiss on the lips". I happily obliged and then he smiled and went right back to sleep while I cried in the chair next to his bed, grateful I could do something for him.

Four days into our hospital stay, Emma decided to turn 13.  Brent and I worried about making sure she felt celebrated even in the midst of our ordeal.  I took her out to lunch, bought her balloons and we opened presents with as much fanfare as possible.

  Then, we took her to visit Aiden.  This was kind of a big deal because only people over 12 could visit the ICU.  Thanks to some generous hospital staff,  Aiden had a few presents and a banner waiting for Emma when she came.  

This was about as excited as Aiden could get.

As the days progressed, all the tubes started getting removed.  His body started waking up again and the real recovery started.

 After 7 days, he was moved out of ICU.  Finally, Sydney and Taylor could come visit.  Grandma Robertson (who came to help out) brought the girls up.  It lifted everyone's spirits and Aiden finally started to smile.

His pain episodes slowly became shorter and less frequent.  He started having friends visit, which he loved.  His appetite was slow to return and I found myself begging him to eat a cookie or some soda.  The irony was not lost on him.  These were hard days for Aiden.  Walking was extremely painful.  His feet and legs felt like they were covered in needles whenever he put pressure on them.    The infection inside created lots of gas bubbles which were very painful and had to just be endured.  He learned to swallow pills (thanks to the child life staff who taught him with candy).  He was tough.  He did hard things.  I was so proud of him.  I started to see my sweet boy come back again.  He started joking and laughing.  The doctors monitored his input an output carefully.  Finally, Sunday, May 7 (12 days in the hospital), they agreed to let him go home. 

We loaded a wagon full of gifts in the back of the van.  This boy had a major fan club.  His school class had made cards.  The entire ward primary made cards.  His aunt and uncles sent packages, grandparents sent gifts, his friends dropped of oodles of activities and goodies.  The hospital provided all sorts of busy bags, quilts, pillow cases, and books.  I was overwhelmed and so very grateful for wonderful people in my life.  Not to mention the food and goodies being brought in at home, the countless phone calls, texts, and messages of encouragement.  Aiden and I cried many tears of gratitude for our sweet support system.  Finally, we were home again.