This is the one thing that my 19 monthe old son remembers most of his 4 days in the Children's Hospital. It also seems to be the only word he wants to say since we have been home.
A week ago Friday, he came home from daycare with what looked to be a bug bite or small scratch on his knee. At the time, it didnt seem like anything serious, but over the next two days his knee slowly swelled and became red. By Monday morning, he was limping and doing his best to guard it. He would let nothing come in contact with it, and when something or someone did, you knew by the screech that soundedd like a seal being crushed.
I immediately made an appt with his pediatrician for noon that day. In the meantime, i dropped him off at daycare and headed to work. I headed back to his daycare about 1130 to find his room playing outside. The interesting thing was that he managed to get himself to the top of the playcenter(not sure what they are called any more... jungle gym, monkey house, plastic structure of death), but could not get back down. Apparently it hurt his knee to much to climb down. This was told to me by the crack daycare staff, that apparently had enough brains to figure out what was happening with him, but not enough brains to help him get down. I feel so secure knowing they are caring for my children, but that is another blog for another day.
I arrived at the pediatricians office, and the fun began. He couldnt see his regular doctor due to the short notice, so we saw the doctor who had a "im suspicious of you as a parent" attitude. Wonderful. After she aggressively checked all of my childs vitals, making him cry non stop, she recommended that they he be admitted right away.
The reason for this actually started a handful of months ago. Logan had a rash that started out much like pimples. After everything being done for him, the rash did not go away, it evolved. It started being more like small blisters and exzema. This in turn became two boils on his groin area and buttock. These had to be lanced and drained. Another unfortunate experience that my wife had to handle solo. They finally cultured the infection to discover that he had MRSA.
I will not go into everthing about MRSA, but i will say that it is a staph infection that does not respond well to antibiotics. There are different degrees of MRSA, and some can be deadly. We all carry a form of MRSA, but there are strains that you definitely dont want. And Logan has one of those strains.
The reason the doctor at the pediatricians office wanted to send him to the Children's Hospital is because the infection he had was over his knee, and therefore could have moved into his joint. She wanted him seen by an orthopedic surgeon, as she believed his knee might need surgery. First they needed to take blood. That was a fiasco. The new nurse started her vein fishing on his left arm, and after about 3 minutes of not hitting a vein and daddy getting a little more then perturbed with having to pin his child down while he begged for mercy, the other nurse recommended the other arm. GREAT. The other arm did not prove fruitful for that nurse either. That is when the other nurse jumped in and nailed the vein in seconds flat. This only served to upset me. I realize that the new nurse has to learn, but if she cant do it on the first arm, i think that the child needs to be given a break. Im just thinking that would be along the lines of COMMON SENSE. With that over, we could leave.
I headed back to daycare, picked up his sister and headed to the CH. We checked in the roller coaster of doctors, nurses, and needles began.
Once we were in the back, they immediately decided to hook Logan to an IV. That would be his third stick within two hours. Rough day. Luckily, this nurse had a little more compassion and was a little more prepared to make it easy. Though it hurt, it only lasted about 3 minutes compared to the 10 minutes earlier that day. Later that evening, the doctors decided that they would go with an MRI before the surgery to see if it was necessary. This would mean anesthia, and then another IV in the foot. He got through that. By the end of the day, my name was no longer Daddy, it was Daaaaaaaddyyyyyyyyy. Heartbreaking every time he pleaded to me.
Another rough part about all of this is that my wife was out of town. Her grandfather had died and she and our teenager went to the funeral. Needless to say, she was having more then an emotional week. Knowing her baby was in the hospital and she couldnt be there was driving her crazy. She would arrive on the second day.
They admitted us that night to the hospital. The Drs decided that he would not need surgery, and would just receive antibiotics in the hospital until they felt he was ready to go home.
He would spend the next four days in the hospital, having his vitals taken every three hours, and having his knee squeezed regularly, the crushed seal returning every time. He fell in love with the wagon that he could be pulled around in the hospital, better known as "Cart". Grandma also showed up on Tuesday, helping us greatly by dealing with the other kids. Thanks Mom!
Thankfully the MRSA responded to the antibiotic they chose. Giving our family great relief. He is well on his way to recovery. We have had to clean the house top to bottom, and still are not finished. We have to wash the linens in the whole house seven days in a row. Everyone in the house has to put a topical antibiotic on their nose and we have to wash with a special soap. All this to try and reduce the chances of continuing to sread MRSA.
A very tiring and exhausting week. Many details in between, but that is the short version.
So what did i learn out of all of this? That my wife was right a couple years ago when she said the kids really need a wagon, or as Logan calls it "CART"!
