Elliott had a brain MRI with a light dose of anesthesia this morning. When he returned from the MRI, he was resting comfortably. He cuddled with his momma, and his daddy took lots of pictures of his sweet face. Then the respiratory rate alarm sounded apnea and instantly, James (his superhero nurse) calmly asked me to lay him in bed and step outside to call another nurse. Dr. R (cardiologist) and Dr. S (Fellow) responded and immediately began bagging (like a manual ventilator with a face mask) Elliott. I wish I could say it was all a blur. It is very clear. Mark and I stepped to the corner of the room as it filled with staff to keep Elliott breathing. They collected a heel prick sample for blood gases, put him on oxygen, and Dr. R continued bagging, while Dr. S stimulated Elliott's extremities. Finally, Elliott began to move his arms and feet. I thought, "Oh good, now he will be awake enough to breathe on his own!". But, no. Dr. R ordered Elliott be intubated and the crash cart immediately appeared. We were ushered to wait in the chairs by elevators until the intubation was complete.
So we sat. We talked about taking Elliott to the zoo in the BabyBjorn, for bike rides in a tandem bike trailer, for walks around the pond in Northampton. Each time we heard the heavy CVICU doors swing open, we shifted to the edges of our seats, sighing with anxiety when the person walking through them was not our messenger.
Finally, a nurse came out and said the intubation went well and that we could rejoin our baby after the X-ray (to verify the tube placement) was completed.
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