Hospital Part II: Our Stay and Discharge

By the time that Matt arrived on Saturday morning, we had already seen the pediatric hospitalist. The hospitalist had a genuine spirit and great bed-side manner. I was so appreciative that he really listened (that was one of the prayers I kept repeating on the way to the ER earlier that morning--that we'd be given a doctor who could actually listen to us and help my daughter) and paid attention to all the details I was listing.

I started off by telling him how she'd been sick for over a month now, and that recent tests showed she had yeast overgrowth. I was leery of what his response would be to my mere mention of the yeast overgrowth because in my research from the past few days I learned that this topic is one of controversy among MD's. But he took what I said into account as I described everything she'd been through in the last few days as well.

Questions were raised about what could be causing this, and diflucan was certainly a suspect in the hospitalists eyes. But the main focus for Day 1 was to rehydrate our baby and get her to poop because he wanted to conduct another round of tests. Again, thank God he listened.

Our first day was quite tiring. The poor girl rested A LOT. Luckily, once we received a Zofran at 3:30 AM in the ER we hadn't seen any more vomiting. So she was able to get some sleep that she really needed. And thanks to mom and Matt, I was also able to catch up a little on sleep.

Boushka started to fill diapers continuously--I think we were changing them once an hour at the least. But we were still waiting for more than just urine. It never came that day, but all of a sudden that evening we saw a smile come across Boushka's face.

The smile turned to sitting up, and then standing up, and then she was dancing. When I saw that she had some life back in her, I turned on her favorite song "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. She began acting silly, running across her hospital crib and dancing. We were so excited to see this--but of course it offered some false hope. I thought for sure this meant we were going home the next day. Yeah, not so much...

Once things settled down for the evening, my mama went home to get some rest since she was there the entire day helping us. Matt was able to stay until 11:30, which I really appreciated because I got to sleep a little before 11:30 until he left. The nurses came to do vitals sometime around midnight, so I stayed up until that was over. Boushka HATED having her vitals taken. The blood pressure cuff made her scream as did the pulse/ox bandage looking thingy and the thermometer. And they didn't even take her temp in the baby way--so she had it easy. But I totally understood that she didn't appreciate anybody messing with her-- especially if it interrupted her sleep and considering what she had been through earlier that day with needles and such.

I don't remember how much sleep was lost or gained that night, but I do remember how wonderful it was to have her provide a sample (if you know what I mean) that next morning. She seemed a bit happier on Sunday and she had some times of silliness again. Since she hadn't vomited after 3:30 Saturday morning, we were able to move from fluids to solids. Chocolate pudding and cherry popsicles were our first meals. And they went over so well, I believe she had three puddings in the first 12 hours she was eating solids.

Once she was eating well, I could order her just about anything on their menu. So I did, because I had no idea what she'd eat at this point. Sweets and mac 'n cheese are always a hit--as are fries.

Anyway, we got the sample sent off to the labs and we were visited again by the nice hospitalist. He agreed that the yeast needed to be looked at, and he was also going to check her sample for viruses, bacterias and parasites---much like our family prac did two weeks ago. Additionally, they were going to run a celiac panel. They also cut her fluids in half so that they aren't actually overhydrating her, and instead they are just giving her enough that she'll want to drink on her own.

We pass the time again with Daddy and Grandma there and we watched several episodes of Micky Mouse Clubhouse--though apparently here we were watching The Cat in the Hat Knows a lot About That.

Mickey is by far her favorite show--so I'm very thankful we had access to a DVD player and DVD's with Mickey as the star. It saved me many hours of fussing, I'm sure. She also found some games she could play to pass the time. She loved to play peek-a-boo with Daddy. While she and grandma played a game that involved kissing Boushka's hand.

We go through the sleepy vital checks that escalate into screaming fits again on Sunday night and into Monday morning. By this time, I'm ready to get off of my chair-bed and into my real bed at home, but there is just no way I can leave that hospital. So I don't! We spend what feels like our third night in the hospital and wait for Daddy to arrive in the morning. Our 4 am check was not fun at all, and it took a good hour and a half to calm the poor girl down. When I woke up with her at 7 am, there was a disturbing surprise in store.

Boushka ripped out her IV sometime between the time I laid her down around 5:30 and 7. I promptly call the nurse in and it's decided that we will watch her fluid intake today to see if she'll drink enough to go home. Since she was already taking in half the amount of IV fluids, they thought she'd pick up with where they left her. While she was not tethered to the IV, she enjoyed looking out the hospital window.

Since the girls were at my in-laws, they were able to drive my oldest to school and daddy came to visit us again at the hospital. This time he was there when the doctor, a new doctor who we'll call Dr. P, came to visit.

In she walked and sat down in full gown and mask to tell us Boushka "got a double whammy." She then continued to explain that our little gal's sample tested positive for rotavirus and campylobacter bacteria. It was hard to understand what she said due to the mask over her face, but the mask alone was enough to worry me. It was a change from what we'd seen with other nurses and docs and it made me think that they discovered something that was terribly contagious.

We tried to ask some questions, but again it was hard to understand her. We did ask about testing for yeast and she told us that "we don't test for yeast." After Dr. P left the room, my husband got fired up. In a discussion between the two of us, he questioned how our local family doctor could test for yeast, but a regional hospital did no such thing. Here is where I start to curse the doctor for thinking yeast is some kind of controversial thing and refuses to look at it as a potential suspect in the case of our daughter.

Minutes later, in the midst of our "fired up-ness" a lovely nurse comes in to tell or ask us something that I can't remember now. Somewhere in our talk, I said "Can I just ask you a question?" She was very nice and agreed to help in any way she could.

We began by discussing our concerns about the yeast. She listened intently as we told her how we were confused. Once she understood our confusion, she related to us that they TEST for parasites, bacteria and viruses, but they do a CULTURE for yeast. Seriously, this is where the confusion was? I felt like I was trapped in some kind of semantics trivia game and I got stumped by my doctor.

Anyway, this sweet nurse talked to us for about an hour as she educated us on several issues concerning dehydration and the illnesses our little girl had. We would have to wait a week (we're still waiting) to here the results of the celiac panel and the yeast culture. We checked her cap refill and it was looking pretty good at that point. By this point in the morning, she had already slurped up two 6.8 ounce apple flavored pedialyte. So we were really hoping and praying to be able to go home.

Boushka rested that afternoon and we thought she'd drink plenty more fluids upon waking from her nap. Matt began to tidy the room and I was looking forward to a shower at home. Meanwhile, our nurse popped her head in to say that when she wakes up we should really try to get her to drink. So when she woke up, of course we offered several drinks. None of them were too appealing to our girl.

Finally, around 6 that evening we were told that she needed to drink roughly six ounces in the next 20 or so minutes or we'd have to stay again. At this point in the day, all she'd had to drink were the two pedialytes early in the morning, but she'd would take nothing the rest of the day. So we asked for white milk, chocolate milk, grape juice, pedialyte and water. We set them all in front of her and offered each of them to her, but the only response we got was "uh-uh" followed by a no head shake. She did eat though. Not much will keep this girl away from food!

At first we kept trying to push it; and then we realized even if she did all of a sudden chug these drinks, we could take her home and she'd be back to square one. We kind of bit the bullet here and acknowledged the fact that staying another night was the best option for her.

Back on the home front, my mom had taken over our other three girls earlier on Monday--two of them had ballet that night and she got them to and from class. She, like the rest of us, were under the impression we were coming home. So when we found out we weren't, Matt decided he better just get us settled and then head home to get everything ready for school the next day. So the babe and I snuggled in for our fourth night in the hospital.

They started another IV and put her back to the overhydrating dose for the night. I put her in the chair-bed with me and prayed I could get her calmed down enough to go to sleep. By the time you throw in a toddler and my pregnant belly into that tiny bed, there isn't much room left for me to sleep. So I tried unsuccessfully several times to get her back into her crib. She just cried and I felt horrible because all she wanted was me. But I was in so much pain and so exhausted that all I could do was lean over her crib and hold her hand or rub her back as I tried to coax her back to sleep.

Finally sleep came, but again it wasn't nearly enough by the time dawn peeked in our hospital window. I remember ordering her food for breakfast and counting down the minutes until Matt could get there. He had to get the girls dressed and ready for school by 8:30, drop them off and then he could come rescue us. Sometime around 9:30 we finally get our daddy. I said Thank God and drifted to sleep for about an hour while Matt took care of Boushka. Next thing I knew, Dr. P walked in and asked with a smile "Are you ready to go home?!?"

We were more than ready to go home. So we gladly accepted our discharge education and forms and packed our bags. We were getting the heck out of Dodge! Although a certain little girl was so exhausted she couldn't rejoice in the happy moment. She threw an I'm totally tired fit instead.

Of course we were thrilled she was healthy enough to head home now. And it was just in time for Matt and I to get lunch, get home, get freshened up and head to my pre-admission appointment at yet another hospital.

Today marks exactly a week since we said goodbye to the hospital and it has taken about this long to get back to normal. My husband, family and friends have all been a huge help and source of encouragement. I've appreciated every Get well message, every meal I didn't cook, and every minute my other children were cared for. I can't believe how sweet everyone has been to us as we tried to get back on our feet. And knowing that they'll all be there for us again in a few weeks when we bring home our fifth child (hopefully to a illness-free home), makes me feel incredibly blessed.