Graham: The rest of the story...

I left off our story just a couple days into Graham's hospital visit.  At that point, the doctor's were suggesting that I prepare myself for a 14+ day stay.  "But," they explained, "Dr. Glover (the infectious disease specialist) will be in on Sunday night, and she's the one who gets to make the final decision."

I spent the weekend trying to come up with valid arguments for allowing us to "only" have to stay 10 days. "Does it help that he was born full term?  Or that he was a big baby?  Or that I'm nursing him?"

The nurses, residents, and other doctors were sympathetic, but made it clear that age was the determining factor.  So, we braced ourselves for a long haul.

In the meantime, Grandma and Grandpa Winters arrived for their "vacation" (ha ha!).  Mark took Friday off of work to help them acclimate to the routines and layout of our home.  They all came to visit Graham and I in the hospital, and I had my first chance to leave the confines if our little room (note - we weren't in the NICU, we had our own room).  Mark and Grandpa stayed with Graham while the rest of us went on an exciting outing to...the grocery store! Okay, maybe not exciting, but definitely necessary.  All too soon, I had to say good-bye to my older kids for another few days.  

This and subsequent visits were short, because, though there was a small playroom in the unit, the kids soon tired of the few puzzles and books (but the wagons were a huge hit).

On Saturday, the grandparents, Mark, and the kids spent a long, fun day at the Puyallup Fair.  I got phone calls with updates on their adventures.  Aubree was most impressed that they got two ("TWO!") treats: ice-cream and funnel cake.  

Graham, by this point, was completely back to "normal." My best analogy for his illness is Strep Throat.  When you get Strep Throat, you feel completely miserable, but once you get antibiotics, you feel WAY better within just a day or two.  Yet, despite feeling better, you still have to finish the course of medication to make sure to fully eradicate the bacteria.  So, although Graham was feeling better, we had to stay to get the IV meds.  The doctors liked to tell me, "he's the healthiest kid here!"  Considering the location, I'm not sure that was a tremendous compliment.

Around this time, Graham also got a PICC line (semi-permanent IV port) put in his foot and we were able to take out the IV in his hand.  To help combat the possibly negative digestive repercussions of all the antibiotics, the doctor's also prescribed some probiotics.  That meant Graham got his first bottle.  He took it great the first day, just okay the second day, but by day three he said "No Way, No How!" (It was pumped breast milk, but mixed with the probiotics, so I imagine it tasted pretty different).

When Sunday evening finally rolled around and Dr. Glover arrived, I tried to put on my brave face (all previous announcements of bad news had resulted in rivers of tears).  She reviewed Graham's history and again laid out the options the other doctors had described.  "OR," she continued (immediately grabbing my attention), "we occasionally allow babies to go home and finish the course of antibiotics there.  If you're willing to administer his medication, we could send you home on Wednesday after he's had one full week of antibiotics and finished up some additional testing."

I had to resist the urge to jump out of my chair and hug the woman.  "You're my new best friend!" I exclaimed, "Of COURSE I'm willing to administer the antibiotics at home!"

The next few days at the hospital were filled with a lot of nothing.  Our pediatrician would stop by to check-in with us an average of twice a day.  It became somewhat of a joke, as he always found us in essentially the same spot (not a whole lot of options when your baby has a two-foot tether).  I later told Mark, "I didn't feel like we were in the hospital for 8 days, I felt like we were in the hospital for one day - eight times" (think "Groundhog Day"). 

The only differences in the days were the visitors.  Having friends and family stop by helped make the monotonous days tolerable.

Aunt Deanna and Uncle Ray

Mark and the Grandparents brought the kids when they could, but by Tuesday I think all the kids were pretty well done with me being gone and having to go to the hospital to see us.  Thane especially had a hard time.  When they came to visit, I said, "come on Thane, let's go play in the playroom!"  "No!" he responded, "I want Daddy!"  It took a few minutes in the playroom, before he came and curled up in my lap.  Broke my Momma-heart.  Since we've been home, I've noticed he's been more clingy and concerned about me leaving.

We were extremely grateful to be getting the help Graham needed (it has not escaped my notice that, had we been pioneers, he would have been born completely healthy, and then died two weeks later), but hospital stays are no fun.  We loved our nurses, but they had to check Graham's vitals every four hours, give him antibiotics every eight hours (which would run for 30 minutes, then need a 10 minute "flush"), weigh him every 12 hours, and introduce the new nurse after every 12 (or 8) hour shift.  Then, of course, the doctors and Residents would do the same checks every morning.  Needless to say, there were a lot of interrupted nights (not that sleeping on a recliner was particularly conducive to good sleep anyway).  

Finally, it was Wednesday!  I went with Graham for a final test to make sure there were no "plumbing" issues that led to his bladder/kidney infection (there weren't, everything is working perfectly, so the doctor's say this was just "one of those things that sometimes happen to little guys"), and then we were able to go home.  HOME!!!  Hallelujah!

We were only home for 10 minutes before the Home Health Nurse arrived to show me how to administer Graham's medication through his PICC line.  It wasn't too complicated, and - thankfully - they'd switched his dosage to only once every 24 hours, so it wasn't terribly inconvenient.  And it was exceptionally wonderful that Graham was no longer connected to the IV pole.  FREEDOM!!
Though giving Graham his medicine wasn't complicated, I did decide I did NOT miss my calling in life.  Kudos to all the nurses out there - that is not for me!

Home at last!

All went well until the following Sunday afternoon, when his PICC line wouldn't flush.  Fearing that we'd be sent back to the hospital, and he'd have to have another PICC line put in (more trauma), I placed a call to Dr. Glover.  She again earned her "best friend" status, by allowing us to switch over to oral antibiotics (he was already on day 12 of antibiotics).
The next day, he had some final blood tests and got his PICC line removed and was declared illness free.  Hurrah!!

Let me say, while it's not good to EVER have a child be sick and in the hospital, I see many tender mercies in this experience.  For example, having a newborn tethered to a short IV line is WAY easier than, say - a two year old.  Sometimes, in moments of boredom while in the hospital, I'd imagine what our stay would've been like had it been Thane who was sick.  Yikes!  He's a good kid, but he would NOT have handled staying still well.  Graham did not care one bit where he was or that he had to stay in one place.  He was completely content to be held and cuddled.

Also, Graham is my easiest baby thus far.  (I know I said that with Thane, and soon regretted my declaration, but Thane was only one week when I made the ill-fated statement.  Graham is now 6 weeks and going strong!)  By two weeks old, both Aubree and Thane had become full-fledged colic-kids.  Aubree cried inconsolably from 7-10 pm every. single. night.  Thane wasn't too different.  If I'd had to be stuck in a room with them, screaming at me, with no options for a change of care-giver or scenery (Thane calmed down if we took him outside), I would've gone nuts (the nurses and other patients probably wouldn't have loved us either).  

Grateful for small miracles!