I wrote this about February 2015 at the beginning of March 2015...
"We made it. I wasn't sure if we would, but we made it.
"I can't lie: February has been one of the worst months ever."
The last week of January, Julia had to have an MRI of her spine. That was stressful because she had to go under general anesthesia to have it performed. Plus, we had to wait a week for our appointment to get results, all the while worrying that she could have some kind of scary underlying reason for her scoliosis.
Julia did okay with the MRI. She was pretty funny after getting Versed, talking loudly about Wichita and her relatives there. She was transported on a gurney from the pre-op area down to MRI. While waiting on the gurney, she tried to get out of bed by sliding through the side rail bars of the gurney and was nearly successful. The anesthesiologist asked her some questions while he had the gas on her face to get her to breathe more. The last question he asked her was if she had a boyfriend at school. Julia's last words were a long, exaggerated, "Huuuuddddsssonnnn" before she fell asleep.
Post-anesthesia, she was taken to the PACU. The nurse who came to get us to bring us to see her told us that Julia was all smiles and that she was the cutest little thing ever. We got back there and Julia's face immediately melted and she started crying. I think she must have been scared but she held it together until we got back there. Her IV was really bothering her, so once we were confident she wouldn't need any IV Zofran, the nurse pulled it. The tegaderm coming off really bothered her. Unfortunately, she soaked through the first gauze taped on after the IV came out, so that tape had to be ripped off and a new dressing placed. Julia was so traumatized. She freaked out the next day when I took off her new dressing. She had a few sticky remnants on that arm from the adhesive for weeks that she refused to let us help her remove (and it wasn't worth it to me... whatever, you know?).
The night after Julia's MRI, she came into our bed at 2 am. She was burning up and her little heart was beating a mile a minute. I took her temperature and it was 104.5. I gave her some Tylenol. I couldn't think straight in the middle of the night about my own kid. I was worried that maybe her fever had something to do with the anesthesia, so I called one of my resident friends who was on nights at the hospital, so I knew I wouldn't be waking anyone. We talked it through and came to the conclusion that it was much too long after anesthesia to have anything to do with it.
The next morning it was very clear that Julia was sick and the timing with the MRI anesthesia was just a coincidence. Her nose was running, she was coughing, and she had a 105.5 fever with chills. Hence commenced our battle with what I'm sure was the flu. We had our flu shots, but that year's predominant strain was not included in the flu shot that year (it's always a guessing game for the CDC to predict which strains need to be included). Poor Julia had fever for eight (8!!!!!!!!) days. She drank water, but would barely eat or drink anything else. She laid around on the couch with watering eyes, burning up with 104-105+ fevers (which thankfully began to trend down to 101-103 fevers after a few days) despite round the clock max dose Tylenol and Ibuprofen. Sometimes, the poor baby would even vomit when her fever got really high. Even though I'm around sick kids all the time, it's so incredibly different when it's your OWN kid. I hated seeing her suffer.
Partway through the illness, I took her to the pediatrician to get a second opinion to my own. Her flu swab was negative, but that didn't mean much since the rapid flu test has a high false negative rate. The pediatrician agreed that lungs were clear, her ears looked fine, and that this was all likely still viral. We made a plan to return in a couple days if she hadn't turned the corner. The next day, however, she began complaining about her ears. I took a look and they looked infected. That day was the day we had to go to the orthopedist, whose office is in the same building as our pediatrician's. We popped by her office and she agreed about the ears and called in some Amoxicillin. Julia had never been on an antibiotic in her life. We started the Amoxicillin that day, though, and within a day or so her fever had finally broken and she was starting to feel better. The recovery from such a prolonged illness was slow, though. You could seriously see each rib on the poor child. She lost at least a couple pounds, which is pretty significant on a child of her size. She was tired and easily irritated for days afterward. She just wasn't herself. When she finally returned to preschool after missing two weeks, even one of her teachers commented that she had been very quiet and was not quite herself yet. It took her quite a while to get her strength and energy back.
I ended up getting sick with the flu, too. I was having fevers and chills, cough and congestion, body aches... the whole nine yards. It was awful. I took basically the whole last week of January off. I dragged myself in for my first 24 hour PICU call shift on Sunday, February 1, so I could get one out of the way while Aaron was off for the weekend. I almost can't remember a more miserable shift. I was having chills and I wore a mask because I was coughing and having runny nose and my face hurt so much. There was a baby that got extubated a little prematurely and she looked gray and awful all night with the most horrific stridor and trouble breathing (she later ended up needing balloon dilatation of her airway - a couple times!). The bedside nurse and charge nurse and I hovered around her bed all night. It was awful. That nurse and I still talk about that night whenever we see each other - nothing like being in the trenches together to forge a bond. After that shift, I took a few sick days off PICU to care for Julia, since Aaron had just started teaching service and he really couldn't get off.
The appointment at the orthopedist's office on February 3rd was very difficult. We did get the good news that the MRI was negative for any underlying problems causing the scoliosis. At that visit, however, we found out that Julia's curve, which we'd originally thought was 19 degrees, was actually 31 degrees on the repeat x-rays they'd done at the orthopedist's office. The orthopedist actually walked into our room with the guy wearing a polo advertising his orthoses company, which made my heart sink, quickly realizing what the conversation was going to center around. Since Aaron had to go to work, Julia and I were at that appointment alone, both still miserably sick, and I was heartsick to hear Julia needed to be put into a Boston brace, wearing it for 20 hours per day. Her measurements were taken that day and she picked out a pink color for the brace.
On Wednesday, I was home with Julia when I got the call from one of my friends in residency that all the residents had received the news at Academic Afternoon that one of our third year residents had unexpectedly passed away. It was one of the hardest phone calls I ever received. All of us were in shock and were heartbroken. I will never forget that day. It was so horrible. I met up with some work friends and colleagues that night at a frozen yoghurt place. None of us felt much like eating, but it was so good to hug each other and be together during such a difficult day.
The next day, still sick and still in shock, I returned to work since I'd already missed the Thursday prior and really couldn't get my clinic cancelled (and patients dispersed to other doctors or rescheduled) two weeks in a row. Aaron called in sick to care for Julia, which was super stressful, since he was on teaching service and had clinic. His attending wasn't thrilled when he called her, but in the end, she helped him find other residents to cover his job in both the hospital and clinic that day. That was Aaron's birthday, poor guy. My sister was kind enough to bring us soup for dinner. I don't think I really did anything special for him that day that I can remember... in fact, I remember crying uncontrollably at dinner time. The loss of my friend, combined with being stressed to the max about Julia's back and her illness, and being sick myself, was almost too much to bear.
The rest of the month was a very slow ascent out of the depths of despair from that week. My friend's funeral was the following week. Almost all of us from the pediatrics department rode a bus together to go out of town to the funeral. Being together, and together mourning the loss and celebrating the life of our beloved friend and colleague was at once very difficult and very good, offering some amount of healing and closure. The department provided sessions for us as we all dealt with our grief, separately and together, as we all continued to struggle to come to terms with our loss.
Julia received her brace at the end of February, which was heartbreaking. The first day we put it on her, she refused to sit because it dug into her legs/hips, and she just cried and cried, lying stiff and awkward in our laps. It was seriously one of my saddest moments as a parent, knowing the road ahead. Each day got a little easier, though, and soon, she was wearing it full time and being so brave and good. She was seriously such a trooper, so resilient and adaptable.
I think the only way we survived February 2015 was with a lot of prayer and support. I'll never forget the kindness of family and friends who brought us food or sent us flowers or lifted us up in prayer. February 2015 is so full of painful memories, but we made it through the storm, by the grace of God.
