Friday, January 18th
2:00 p.m.- I never think of A and G while I'm at work because I know they are safe with grandma and because I'm very busy with work. But, on this day, my mind briefly thinks about their safety and I have the urge to call my mom to see how they are doing. Before I could do that, some other task takes precedent and I soon forget to call.
2:30 p.m.- I receive a call from the pediatric emergency ward at Northwest Community Hospital, but since my phone is on silent, I do not answer it.
3:40 p.m.- I finish grading some papers and ignore the constant nagging feeling that is telling me to go home. Instead I chat with a co-worker about my weekend plans and listen to the laughter of my colleagues floating through the halls.
3:46 - I get a call from Mike and he is eerily calm. He asks me what I am doing and if I am on the way home. I'm half listening as I continue working until he says that he is at the hospital with A. Before he can tell me details, I've already hung up and am flying out the door.
4:15 - I make it to the hospital and run up to the room A is in. She is sleeping peacefully and it looks like the worst is over. That is when I sit down to hear the whole story.
Around 1:30 p.m. that day, A asked my mom for a lollipop. My mom gave her one but insisted that she eat some cereal before she ate the lollipop. So with one hand grasped around the candy, she began to eat her cereal. She finished it and asked for another bowl. Grandma gave her another helping and turned around to wash the dishes. She noticed that A was very quiet and so she turned in her direction only to find that Ava was vomiting into her bowl. My mom consoled her and brought her down from the chair. A continued to vomit on to the floor. They walked into the bathroom where A vomited more into the toilet. When it seemed like she was finished, my mom asked if she was okay, but there was no answer and instead the lollipop dropped from A's hand as she lost consciousness.
My mom quickly caught her up in her arms and began frantically looking for her phone. However, during this time, my mom forgot all protocol and did not administer the epi-pen, In fact, she was in such shock that she did not even remember how to use her phone. She remembers dialing "311", " 611", and other numbers before she calmed down and was able to call for help. After calling the paramedics, my mom took A's limp body and ran outside hoping that someone could help her. All the while, my mom was trying to resuscitate A by screaming her name, slapping her leg, and giving chest compressions. During that whole time, A's eyes were open and unblinking. And, so, my mom thought A had died.
She recalls crying out to God to save her grandaughter. After what seemed like hours, the ambulance finally arrived. She passed A off to the EMT's who quickly felt for a pulse and detected one. They asked my mom questions about what happened but my mom wasn't able to produce an intelligible sentence from the shock of what had just happened. She was not allowed to follow in the ambulance because she had Gwen with her. She did see them administer an IV and begin giving A oxygen. All the while, A was still unconscious.
Mike called during this time and was able to talk to the EMT's. He told them about her food allergies but they were more concerned about medication allergies. My mom also handed off A's emergency bag which contained her epi-pens. The EMT's noted that A had epi-pens but still they did not administer one. Later, when asked by the ER doctor why they hadn't given her an epi, the EMT's stated that they did not see visual signs of anaphylaxis. The doctor reminded them that physical signs are not always there but from the clues, such as Mike stating that she had food allergies and seeing that A had epi-pens, should have alerted them to the seriousness of the situation.
Halfway to the hospital, A woke up by herself crying and calling for me. After testing her blood gas level, they found that her carbon dioxide levels were very elevated and her blood gas level was low indicating that she was not oxygenating properly.
A was taken into the ER and that was when I received the missed call from the hospital. Mike arrived to the hospital shortly after and found A asleep. He woke her up to tell her that he was there but she was unable to recognize him and instead cried out for me again. He kept telling her that he was there but she was disoriented and could not understand what he was saying. That is when Mike decided to call me to tell me A was in the hospital and that she may have suffered damage from the lack of oxygen.
After I arrived at the hospital, A woke up but did not acknowledge me. She would only answer all questions with "no" and was irritable and clingy. Two hours later, she awoke from her nap able to communicate and showed signs of knowing who we were. She received several blood tests and x-rays and even the epi that was not given when it should have been. The doctor then decided that she should be transferred to Lutheran General's ICU where her pediatrician was and where she could receive a higher level of care. A was alert throughout this whole time and was chattering away with the nurses and the transport team from Lutheran.
By the next morning, A was very well and back to her self so we were discharged to go home. When speaking with A about what happened, she could not remember anything apart from eating the cereal. She does not even remember getting the epi-shot which was done when she was seemingly alert and back to her self. Everything from yesterday was lost to her. I'm thankful for that and wish we could have that same type of amnesia.
My mom and dad are still struggling to deal with the traumatic memories from yesterday and Mike and I are finding ways to come to terms with how serious A's condition is and how fragile her life is. We are thankful to God who, in my mom's words, "showed mercy to me as I cried out pitifully to him." There is no other explanation why she did not progress further into shock without the epi and why she regained consciousness herself.
What breaks my heart the most is that she woke up in an ambulance all by herself without Mike or me by her side. I'm sure she was so scared when she was met at the doors of the ER and wheeled in without us and when she was surrounded by doctors and nurses without her parents in sight.
After feeling better today, we took a walk through the halls of the ICU and we passed by a room with a crying baby. There was no adult in the room. A kept asking us why the baby's parents weren't with him. Later she mentioned that I was in the ambulance with her and so I let her believe it. If she can't remember anything anyway, I'm glad to let her remember it the best way possible.
Friends, when faced with someone experiencing a severe reaction from food, please do not delay in giving the EPI. I know it is scary. I know it sucks. But it will save a life and that trumps everything else.
Just before writing this post, I went into the bathroom and something in the garbage can caught my eye. What did I see? Her red lollipop-the one that dropped from her hand as she lost consciousness. I took a picture to remind me how quickly our lives can change and how much we should cherish what we have. And although sometimes I feel like this:
God are You listening?
Please hear my cry
I don't really believe You're more cruel than You're kind
But I'm getting tired of repeating this line
That the faithful never survive
I'm thankful that most of the time I end the day like this:
Yes, I know You are great
That You're a good God, and You are love
How much more can I take to undo the damage that I have done?
Please conquer these demons and the darkness inside
Shine Your light on this poor heart of mine
Maybe my faith will survive
Maybe my faith will survive
Maybe my faith will survive
Thanking God for the good times and the bad which guide our hearts, evermore, to Himself.
My dear sister, tears to read this and gain just a glimpse of your heavy heart. Soooo thankful to God for His grace and mercy. Still praying for you all. Love ya!
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