Reid was cranky all day on Saturday. But, I didn’t really think much of it, as he is only six weeks old. However, when I gave him a bath that evening I noticed that he had a hard, warm, red lump on his chest. I called our pediatrician and next thing you know, Reid and I were off to the ER.
I chose to go to Reston Hospital, instead of the hospital nearest us, because the one time I’d been to ours I’d gotten a bad impression. What a huge mistake. We sat for hours without them even looking at Reid, something that is hard to fathom when you are dealing with a tiny infant like him.
In all, we were there for more than eight hours. It turns out that Reid had a bacterial infection in his chest, a development that is not uncommon in infants, but still a major concern, obviously.
Reid handled it very well. I handled it slightly less well, but did my best. The ER doctors had a hard time getting blood from him. It kept congealing before they could test it. They had to stick him repeatedly, and of course we had to wait every time.
Then they tried to place an IV, to start antibiotics (five hours after we arrived). They had an extremely difficult time trying to get the IV in place, and actually tried about seven or eight times. It was torture for both Reid and me. I don’t know who cried harder. After the umpteenth failure, over several hours, I actually picked Reid up off the table, as they were looking for another place to stick, and told them that we were done. The two doctors became extremely fussy with me, and one even stomped away in a huff. But I wouldn’t put him down.
At the time it was an emotional response more than anything else, because I felt I literally could not stand to see Reid get hurt one more time. I was actually somewhat embarrassed by my outburst. But looking back, I’m so glad I did it. Doctors can be so intimidating, even when they aren’t actively trying to patronize you. We hate to question them, and they hate it too. But I think sometimes they need to be reminded that they are treating people — in this case a little teeny people — not just solving puzzles.
Finally, they gave Reid oral antibiotics and transferred us, by ambulance, to Prince William Hospital — the hospital I should have gone to in the first place. It was about 5:00am when we left, a quick 30-minute trip with no traffic on the road. I was in the back of the ambulance, dizzy from no sleep, worried, and holding the tiny hand of my son, who was strapped — in his car seat — to a gurney. I think I will remember the sensations of that journey — the gray morning light, the sound of the wind in the back of the ambulance, the feel of Reid’s soft hand in mine — forever.
Prince William Children’s Hospital brought in a neonatalogist, who put in the IV the very first time. I wept with relief. And exhaustion. And guilt.
After a couple of days of wonderful care in the hospital, Reid is fine and we are both home. It was no fun spending my birthday in the hospital, but…the things you do for love.