Yesterday was one of those days.
I wanted to put my head through a wall.
(Not a figure of speech – I actually envisioned my head going through the wall next to my pantry. In my envisioning, the wall splintered and exploded around my head, which wouldn’t really happen because it’s drywall, not wood, but it was a cool image. In the end I decided not to put my head through the wall because,
1.) I would have to fix the wall on my own,
2.) It would really stinkin’ hurt and,
3. ) I haven’t completely lost it yet.)
It was a day that probably most new moms have.
The baby was fussy fussy fussy for no apparent reason, the mother was sleep deprived and hungry, the daddy was working a long, long day.
The only difference was that when this baby is fussy he stops breathing and sets off all sorts of alarms, so that’s a little bit of an added stress component, but something I’ve gotten used to I guess.
Finally I used some magic mom power I didn’t know I had and got him to sleep.
Elated, I did some laundry, ate, pumped, brushed my teeth for like 3 seconds, and crawled into bed.
After getting up 8 or 9 times to silence the “I stopped breathing” alarm and check on Calvin, not to mention the middle of the night feeding and pumping session, that wall started looking pretty inviting again.
One time I even yelled, “Ahhh, are you freaking kidding me, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this!!!”
Luckily Nate is a deep, deep sleeper and had no idea what was going on.
I climbed back into bed and yelled into my pillow.
I’m not proud about it.
But I’m telling you…sleep deprivation can make the sanest among us a raging psychotic.
And I’m not the sanest among us to begin with.
After I had calmed down, I started reasoning with myself.
It’s really not that bad, Cami.
It could be WAY way worse.
Remember when we thought he would need a g-tube and trach?
At least he doesn’t have a g-tube and trach!
With that comforting thought, I fell back asleep.
Until the alarm went off again, probably 5 minutes later.
Fast forward, what, like 6 hours to Calvin’s appointment with our new pediatric pulmonologist this morning.
After spending a few minutes discussing Calvin’s history and current “episodes” he said,
“I never, never, NEVER say during a first appointment with a new patient that I’m worried we will need a trach and g-tube. But I’m worried we are going to need a trach and g-tube.”
It’s as if he looked into my brain, picked out my worst nightmare, and dangled it in front of me as a very possible reality for the next several years of my life.
We went over Calvin’s last sleep study.
He told me about his AHI, apnea hypopnea index – some mathematical equation involving the number of times the kid stops breathing in an hour and some other stuff, or something like that.
He said a normal AHI is under 3.
Around 5 or 6 he starts to get worried and treats the child.
Calvin’s AHI was 66.
“More than 20 times what I’m comfortable with.” -Dr. Doomsday*
(*I actually REALLY like Dr. Doomsday, he is the very first Dr. to actually read Calvin’s chart before meeting with us! I didn’t have to give him a 20 minute synopsis on Calvin’s medical history, during which I usually end up crying, so THAT was awesome. He also called Calvin cute many, many times, and told me I was “a very intelligent woman” and asked if I had a medical background. So he scored lots of points and almost made up for the fact that he had to be the one to tell me that we may need to trach Calvin.)
before we do anything drastic, of course we will be doing some more tests.
Another sleep study, an echocardiogram (to make sure all these episodes haven’t damaged his heart – the ONE part of his body that has always been healthy!), and a swallow study.
Which will probably bring our grand total for ‘August Dr.s Appointments’ up to like, 35 or something like that.
Speaking of which, immediately following that appointment, Calvin and I drove over to his orthopedic surgery appointment where (after waiting for 2.5 hours in the waiting room….2.5 hours!!!!) the ultrasound showed both hips in their rightful sockets! No more harness!
I think Heavenly Father realized that he was being really not nice to me, what with the words “trach” and “g-tube” being thrown around like that, so mercifully he made sure Calvin was SO well behaved today, throughout both appointments and the sinful wait at the orthopedic’s office.
He took great naps, and only set off his “I stopped breathing!!” alarm once or twice all day.