Functionally ReTodded

I got a letter yesterday. I will leave out the names, but the details are plenty.

Dear Mr. TMLSB:

I am the anesthesiologist who took care of you during your heart surgery on November 10, 2005. I am writing to follow-up with you about the difficulty we encountered at the start of your anesthesia. As you may or may not recall, I discussed this problem with you in the Intensive Care Unit after your surgery. “Intubation” is the process by which we place a “breathing tube” into your airway so that we may administer anesthetic gases and maintain your breathing during surgery. In your case, it was difficult to insert this tube.

It is imperative that you notify any anesthesiologist involved in your care that you have a “difficult airway.” There are safety measures and equipment available for our use when intubating a difficult airway. Knowledge and preparation of a potential problem are always best to try to avoid adverse outcomes and to ensure your safety and comfort. Just as a patient would notify his/her anesthesiologist that he/she has a heart problem, you should notify them that you have “a difficult airway.” Explaining to them that intubating you requires “a fiberoptic scope” will help them adminster a safe anesthetic. There also are medical alert bracelets available that should say “difficult airway: fiberoptic intubation required.” I encourage you to obtain one of them.

I assure you that all went well with your anesthetic. However, as the potential for serious injury exists when we are unable to intubate a patient, it is important that you and your family discuss this issue with anesthesiologists involved in your care in the future. Please keep this information with your medical records.

I hope that your recovery from surgery has been going well. If you have questions about your anesthetic management, or if there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to call.

Sincerely,

Dude’s Name, MD
Department of Anesthesiology

Wow. That’s a bit of a thing to read. Two things I know for sure now though are these:

1) I ordered my medic alert thingy today
2) There’s no way I could have blown every person who asked / told / yelled / screamed at me to do so. After all, I have a narrow airway.

Happy intubations everyone.

Since the wife and I are both recovering from surgery, we’ve decided that it would be easier to keep a bassinette (If that’s spelled wrong then too bad. I was too tired to look it up) in our room for Sophia.

The funny thing is, she seems to be the first child I’ve encountered that didn’t like being swaddled and did better as a free range baby.

Anyway, yesterday we discovered that she was even MORE content in her carseat (which is far lighter to carry than the bassinette) so we decided to try the carseat last night. And what a great night it would have been.

If not for the croupy urchin 1.0

The day the wife was coming home from the hospital, Lauren had a little cough. By Thursday night it was terrible. With an appointment already scheduled for urchin 2.0 on Friday morning, we decided to do the sick child add-on and take urchin 1.0 in for a little look over.

After about five seconds in the room with both kids, the doctor insisted that we move urchin 1.0 as far as possible from urchin 2.0 if we couldn’t get her out of the room altogether. It seems that her symptems were similar to RSV. I don’t know what that is, but apparently if a six day old gets it, then it’s straight to the ER and a hospital stay for the baby.

Surprise. More drama at the TMLSB home.

So we’ve done our best to keep urchin 1.0 a safe distance from urchin 2.0 and so far, everything’s fine. Luckily, we called our pediatrician on Tuesday morning and urchin 1.0 was immediately put on antibiotics which probably saved us from something far worse.

However, the short run is never easy.

While Sophia was eating like a champ and sleeping four hours at a time (which her parents were SO looking forward to), urchin 1.0 was up at 4:15am hacking and weezing and sneezing and coughing.

We had a nebulizer delivered Friday night and it’s been a Godsend, but you can’t explain the importance of a nebulizer to a 3.75 year old or her need to sit the fuck still for ten minutes so the medicine will work.

Anyway, when she starts hacking, she gets up and comes into our room. I got up and we headed down to her room where I’d setup the Nebulizer. She said “I have to potty,” and she did. However, in returning from the potty she wasn’t paying attention and slammed her forehead into the door frame.

So now here’s me, a guy who isn’t supposed to lift over 20 pounds, rushing to lift the not yet making any noise and about to let loose 33 pound urchin 1.0 who, once she starts crying, will start a coughing fit that will, in all likelihood, result in her doing the cough/choke/vomit down my back at best or doing the cough/choke/vomit in my face at worst.

Luckily, she’s pretty tough. We got her calmed down and nebulized and the wife went back to bed with the obliviously slumbering carseat baby.

(One thing about nebulizing your kid. The trade-off is that, I believe, anything used to open airways and assist breathing medically is basically an amphetamine. This may not matter now, but remember it when you’re trying to go to sleep next to your just nebulized child and you can’t figure out what that high-pitched buzzing sound is.

It’s them.

Anyway, all’s good here. Two healthy girls would be better, but I shouldn’t complain. This has been a walk in the park compared to last time.

Now, it’s off to my bed for a little R&R while me-me takes care of urchin 1.0 and the wife watches urchin 2.0 sleep / stare at the Christmas tree.