The next step in our journey with Toby began on the evening of January 14th. While I was nursing that day, I began to notice that something wasn't right. I suspected he may have reflux. He had projectile vomited a few times, and a lot more milk was coming out than going in. I wasn't panicking just yet because I had a similar issue with Garrett. I had so much milk that he couldn't eat on both sides or he would vomit it all back up; his tummy was too full. I tried to slow things down with Toby too, and then that evening I called my friend
Sonya. She's a dear friend from college, a nurse, and one of her boys had reflux, I knew she would give me good advice. The biggest fear in the back of my mind was shunt failure because a major symptom of that is projectile vomiting. That night things got worse, and Toby started to make this awful sound when he was breathing called stridor. In the middle of the night milk was coming out of his nose. by the next morning his breathing was really fast.
When we had left the hospital eleven days prior to this, our case worker handed me a huge binder with different doctors' names and phone numbers. It contained a variety of different information related to Spina Bifida: orthopedics, physical medicine, urology, developmental pediatrician, and neurosurgery. I felt overwhelmed that morning because I had no idea which doctor's office to call. What area did this fall under?I called a friend who is a pediatric nurse practitioner, and she had me do a respiration count, and then said, "he needs to go to the ER." I don't know why I didn't think of that. She came over to stay with the boys, while Bruce and I headed to the ER.
We were admitted later that day to the Infectious Disease floor because the ER doctors suspected RSV. I knew they were wrong, but I didn't speak up; no one in our house was sick, even with a cold. In the back of my mind I kept going back to what I had read - that this was a symptom of his Chiari II Malformation. Chiari II is named after a man named Arnold Chiari. During brain development when a baby has hydrocephalus, certain pieces and parts of the brain - specifically the cerebellum end up being a different shape, size, and cause it to be displaced into the brain stem. Your brain stem is where the vagus nerve is located, which controls breathing, swallowing, etc.
Within a few days, Toby failed a swallow study - he was aspirating his food into his lungs, so they put in a nasal gastrointestinal feeding tube placed (through his nose), and once again I was back to pumping. His oxygen was low, so he was hooked up to oxygen through a nasal cannula. They also ruled out any shunt issues at this point, but he cried often. It was just awful - I can remember being so frustrated that I couldn't feed him. One night he was just miserable, and I was there holding him in a rocking chair with my back to the door, he just wanted to nurse. I was so angry, and I can remember a PCA (Patient Care Assistant) opening up the door to ask, "Mom, are you feeding him.?" My reply was, "No, but I want to." What was so frustrating is that I hadn't been there for the swallow study. It wasn't supposed to be for a few more days; I had gone home to get rest, and then they had a cancellation. Just the day before, an occupational therapist had evaluated me nursing him to see if the swallowing was positional; her conclusion was he could continue nursing.
Then, ENT came up and put a camera through his nose to look at his upper airway. His vocal cords were paralyzed, and neurosurgery ordered an MRI to see if he would need a Chiari decompression.
On Thursday, he had an MRI. They didn't get any decent pictures because he was retracting too much when he was breathing. I can remember carrying him back up to the floor from radiology, and he was completely limp in my arms. The PCA came in to do vitals and his blood pressure was 140/80; temperature in the low 96's. "Something is really wrong," I told her, "I'm really worried." Toby had been a very strong newborn; we would have to lay him on his side to change his diaper because of the open hole in his back, and he would roll over on me. He was that strong! Now, he was limp - I just remember his arms/legs hanging down past my arms. One of the residents called an ICU doctor to come up. She is an older cardiac doctor that has been there forever - Dr. Kraenen. She took one look at him and said, "Get him in the PICU right now!"
Then, it was the "Running of the Bulls" (as my friend Allison calls it). Blood tests were being ordered, people were rushing in, and I was falling apart. Dr. Kraenen gave me a side hug and said, "It's going to be okay, he's going to be okay." The major reason for his limp unresponsiveness and crazy vitals was his sodium had dropped to 108. They put him on an IV drip of saline, scheduled for a PICC line for antibiotics, and then an EEG to make sure he wasn't having seizures. Normal sodium levels are between 135-145...anything below that and you run the risk of seizures.
The mask was just awful; it never stayed on right. It was also really strange because one eye was always cracked open a bit; it sort of creeped me out.
Once he was in the ICU hooked up to the sensitive monitors, we started to see the apnea episodes. When you look at this screen below you can see:
HR (in green) - 112
BP (in purple) - 75/32
Temperature (in purple/Celsius) - 35.6
Respirations (in white) - 8
Oxygen (in blue) - 100
We would have to rub his arm to get him to keep breathing. The doctors would then try to wean him off of CPAP, and he would code - turn blue, oxygen and heart rate dropping. That happened so many times I lost count.
By this time, his sodium was staying level. He finally was maintaining his own body temperature (prior to this he needed warming lights, etc.), and his thyroid tests came back normal. They were trying to figure out why his sodium dropped. They also wanted another MRI to see if he had any damage to his brain from the low sodium.
As I was driving back and forth from home to the hospital I was listening to a CD by Stephen Curtis Chapman. The song called "
Believe Me Now" really spoke to my heart during this time:
I watch you looking out across the raging water
So sure your only hope lies on the other side
You hear the enemy that's closing in around you
And I know that you don't have the strength to fightBut do you have the faith to stand
And believe me now, believe me here
Remember all the times I've told you loud and clearI am with you and I am for you
So believe me now, believe me now
I am the one who waved my hand and split the ocean
I am the one who spoke the words and raised the dead
I've loved you long before I set the world in motionI know all the fears you're feeling now
But do you remember who I am?
Will you believe me now, believe me here
Remember all the times I've told you loud and clear
I am with you and I am for you
So believe me now, believe it's true
I never have, I never will abandon you
And the God that I have always been
I will forever be, so believe me now
I am the God who never wastes a single hurt that you endure
My words are true and all my promises are sure
So believe me now, oh believe me now
So believe me now, believe me hereRemember all the times I've told you loud and clear
I am with you and I am for you
So believe me now, believe it's true
I never have I never will abandon you
And the God that I have always been
I will forever be, so believe me now
Believe me now, believe me now
God was asking me to trust Him. He was telling me that He was with us, that He would always be God no matter what happened with Toby. He promised that He wouldn't waste this hurt we were going through; that I needed to believe. I have clung to this song over and over through the years. Even now, listening to it my eyes fill with tears. One day at a time; He taught me to take things one day at a time. He holds the future, and He can return to the earth at any moment to take us to heaven...then all that worry would have been for nothing. I needed to trust Him one moment at a time because HE IS TRUSTWORTHY.