Alright I’ve started about 30 articles about hospital PTSD... but non of them have FELT right. But that’s the thing about hospital PTSD... nothing feels right. I also realized that all of these feelings cannot be summed up in ONE article.
There is the slight possibility that we are staring down the barrel of another admission. And with that... a lot of feeling start crashing over you.
To catch you up, Easton has a stuffy nose for months... not an exaggeration. Pretty much since thanksgiving I’ve been going through Kleenex by the pallet. Last night around Midnight, Easton started to have a fever, 101.5... then 102... then 103. Spiking each time his meds wore off. For Easton, this is his typical ear infection pattern. So, we went to the walk in clinic expecting to leave with some antibiotics and feel better in 48hrs.
Not quite what happened. His ears looked GREAT! His lungs on the other hand... sound BAD. Now, this could be due to many thing, aspiration pneumonia, bacterial pneumonia, the flu... but it also could be something much more serious... like the dreaded RSV. As for now, his oxygen saturation levels are stable so we are at home. We are headed back for more tests and some results at 8AM tomorrow. Obviously he will be watched and monitored closely at home, and we will have to head to the ER if things get worse.
So, what was I saying about PTSD. I know when you think PTSD, you think of what military citizens have been through. And I am by no means saying that I have been through the trauma that they have been through. But I have been through a different kind of trauma.
I have seen my child airlifted in both planes and helicopters. I have seen my father critically airlifted multiple times. I have seen my child and my father intubated and not able to breath on their own. Needing oxygen to keep breathing. I have driven my child to the ER with someone in my backseat to make sure he keeps breathing. I have been awake for days on end in the hospital. I live with the stress everyday of not know if in 2 hours we will be at home or in the hospital. I have seen that look on the doctor‘s face, the one where they know something is wrong but they don’t want to say it. Back to back hospital stays, hundreds of clinic, ER, hospital, and therapy appointments. It takes it’s toll.
It takes an emotional toll, but also a physical one. Walking down the long hallway from the parking garage to the check in desk at Children’s Minneapolis, past the motivational posters and the cute little gift shop, never fails to make my sick. My heart pounds, my ears ring, my eyes water, I feel sick. Or the pure startle of waking up thinking you heard a heart rate, o2, apnea, or feeding alarm... but in reality the house is silent. You don’t know how many times I can relive moments of my dad’s hospitalizations and hospice stay in a week. I remember some moments so vividly, and some I can’t remember weeks at a time. When your child coughs, I think pneumonia when everyone else thinks a cold. Others think teething, I think sepsis. why? Becuase in the past it HAS been the worse. It has never been teething or a cold. And when it is, it turns into more.
Hospital PTSD is common in NICU parents and parents of medically fragile, complex, or chronically ill children. Less talked about is the toll it takes on the CHILDREN of parents with chronic or severe health issues. I am so excited to open up about all of these, as well as share the stories of others who have been through my situations or similar ones.
As always, we will update more about Easton when we know. For now, we are hoping for easy, normal baby things!
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