Friday, February 13, 2009
First, our surgery was cancelled! Wednesday we sent our sweet little SICK girl off with sainted Auntie Kier, finished packing and were off to bed. Made it to the hospital on time and were told immediately that there was going to be a delay. Apparently it had been a crazy night and the hospital was so full that they were taking the outpatient cases first to buy time for beds for the admits. They thought about an hour delay. An hour, OK we can do an hour. Ten minutes later we were called back to talk to the surgeon (dum dum dum dum duuuum) who told us that he couldn't do the surgery. The head of the hospital had just called to have him cancel all admit surgeries due to the fact that the hospital was 20 beds over capacity and the OR were literally full. Our surgeon explained that he would be in surgery all day and all night to catch up with the emergencies that came in the night before. That was when my head started to spin. The thought of all the prep that went into the last few weeks came flooding over me. I'm gonna have to do all this again? We were ready. All of us were really ready. Ben was prepped, I was prepped, Kiera was prepped, Dave was even prepped. Crap, crap, crap! After I shook off the YOU ARE KIDDING ME fog, some more info came out and the cancel didn't sound too bad. Like, our surgeon had already been busy that day and it was 7:30a. And, the beds upstairs were spilling over with really sick kids. And, because the laproscopic takes so much longer they were going to skip trying it and go right to an open surgery. OK, cancelled is not so bad after all. You ready for the punch line? Ben was admitted today after all. FOR PNEUMONIA. Yup. I took Ben to school yesterday (since he didn't have a pesky surgery to worry about) just a bit before lunchtime. I stuck around through lunch and then was on my way to pick up Kiera and got a call from school. Ben had climbed into his helpers lap and didn't want to move. He finally did sit to watch a movie and promptly fell, hit his head, cried, coughed and threw up. Oh yeah, and he has a temp. After a night of vomit, phlegm and lethargy we ended up at our docs this morning where he was found to have crackly lungs and sats at 88. Crap, crap, crap! So there he is, in the hospital with every other plague ridden child in a 100 mile radius. Little man up in the hospital, sick. Little Kiera at home with Nana, sick. Mama running around wanting to make them both feel better, sad. All of us, very tired. This life is not a roller coaster. It is a series of car accidents.