Tag Archives: trauma

Exhausted Mentally, Emotionally and Physically

Boy does the rain never stop in the lives of the Cook’s. We can’t seem to live a life that allows for a breath of fresh air. When we do things we “go big” so to speak. Between my husband and son, these past 2 years, or more specifically the last 6 months have been an utter whirlwind of emotions.

This past weekend was my sons birthday and we headed to the beach to enjoy a nice weekend away and a well needed vacation “from our problems.” Little did we know our problems were going to transpire into an exhausting, scary weekend away from our abode. The evacuation routes you often see when you head to the coast was exactly what we needed this trip…except in the form of a hospital. Unfortunately I saw them when we entered town and bookmarked it in the back of my mind hoping it was my fear stepping in; not reality. Although we tend to frequent hospitals on an all too frequent basis, Ocean Beach Hospital was a step in the right direction.

As we left town Thursday we were driving over the bridge in Portland waving goodbye to Randall Children’s Hospital opting to never arrive there again unless for the delivery of a newborn baby. Well our wish came true this weekend except that it was only granted for the children’s hospital. Stepping foot into an ER at the beach was not excluded from our list of high hopes. The day of Cooper’s 2nd birthday, he came down with a nasty “bug.” I use that word lightly as my son never has symptoms of a common cold except simply not being able to breath or talk. No runny nose, no cough, no sore throat, no ear infections no nothing is ever on the agenda. So when Cooper came down with this nasty little “bug” we were a bit disappointed as it was the day of his birth and we had planned to play most the day at the beach. Well….that did not happen. He was still in high spirits and we still had a great day.

Come evening, I lay him to rest and kissed his little lips. While playing cards with the family I checked on him and noticed he was very wheezy in his breathing; both inhaling and exhaling. It worried me but not enough to let me anxiety kick-in in overdrive. We kept playing cards and headed to bed pretty late. Less than an hour later Cooper was up and struggling to breath, sleep and simply lay still. Laying in bed with us for a bit, struggling to breath and simply not feeling good while I worried all night long if my little man would quit breathing, allowed for very little sleep. It was an exhausting night!

The following morning he woke up in good spirits and within the hour quickly took a turn for the worse. From playing to laying on the floor writhing in pain and a fever that shook my spirits was very unnerving. His breathing progressively worsened allowing for four adults to become highly concerned. Early nap was definitely on the schedule while multiple phone calls to the advice nurse took place.

My mom and I escaped for a couple hours during nap to grab coffee and enjoy the shops in Long Beach. We had a good time and also grabbed some medical supplies for the little man; humidifier, probiotics and honey sticks to coat his throat. Upon our arrival back at the house, my son just woke up to be extremely labored in his breathing to the point it was beyond scary. His little body struggling with each breath wheezing and with no vocal cords at this point was so scary. He couldn’t talk at all!

Off to the ER. We quickly arrive and immediately were seen by a doctor. No cold symptoms still causing for confusion yet again. They decided to treat for Coup and quickly give a steroid shot as well as a ventilator full of medicine. Within minutes we noticed his little voice coming back to us in a very quiet, raspy sense, but it was better than nothing.

Three hours later they send us home with strict instructions to follow up with our pediatrician. Talk of further complications such as cystic fibrosis came up which of course plagued me with fear. On the other hand, finding something that could be causing this is more of a relief than simply no answers at all. All I want is to find a reason and start treating. Now of course, I really pray nothing is wrong with my son and that we can avoid further hospitalizations but that doesn’t seem like the easy answer we will receive.

Wednesday we followed up with our pediatrician with great success, I feel we finally are in forward motion in search for answers. We have an appointment set with a pulmonologist and will be treating Cooper for croup on a preventative level. Our doctors believes Cooper unfortunately will continue to get croup and has had it previously. We will be treating on a daily basis to lessen the severity of croup as we cannot actually prevent it at all. But the goal here, is to keep us from frequent hospitalizations and labored breathing.

This is only the beginning of the long road ahead, but in some weird way I feel confident and relieved that we are seeking this further and searching for answers. Hoping his little esophagus is our only issue will require us to continue battling croup until he’s roughly 5 years old. The good news in that this condition does not have long term effects. Praise Jesus!

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We will wait, pray and be thankful that as of right now, what we know to be true is bearable! I will keep you all updated with how the appointment with the specialist goes.

Moment of Truth: Life was never promised to be easy, but God did promise He will never give us more than we can handle. At many times in my life, I have felt I was on the edge and God swept in and allowed a calm in my storm. Circumstances may not change, but our hearts do. I pray my heart grows tender and I continue to seek the Lord, rather than build resentment and allow fear to take over my life.

Part II-Series of Traumatic Events

As we were released from the hospital it wasn’t simply because Cooper was better, it was because he was not nearly as dehydrated and reached a psychosis state that became dangerous for him. His age range can not comprehend what is happening around him, but he can comprehend enough that tells him he is scared and wants to go buh-bye.

His hallucinations were beyond terrifying for me. I am his mother and there was NOTHING I could do to calm my child down. This was a horrible feeling and a “bad mom” feeling as well. Knowing I wasn’t a bad mom, you feel that way in the moment because your job as his mommy is to rescue him from the unknown. As time progressed in the hospital we only saw these hallucinations become more frequent and lasting longer. It was definitely scary for us as we were utterly helpless.

On our drive home he was completely quite and exhausted. He refused sleep even than. This part confused me as I knew he had been awake for 36 hours now; why wont he sleep? The combination of dehydration and lack of sleep only made this worse. Hoping once we reached home he would start to feel safe once again.
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I laid him to sleep only for him to wake back up 2 hours later with another episode. My wishes that these were over were everything but true. At that moment I was beyond desperate and extremely tired myself, the only thing I knew to calm his little soul was to place him in the car and drive. After driving around aimlessly for an hour and a half I finally came home. The many stops while on our drive was anywhere and everywhere to continue to force liquids down his little mouth. He hated it so much that actually keeping him strapped in his car seat was helpful for me. It was beyond sad to have to “pin him down” to get fluids in him, but it was way better than living in the hospital another day.

Having to give him 10 syringes an hour took up the entire hour. As soon as I reached #10 I was so excited only to see the hour started all over again. Being home had its pluses but definitely was consumed with ONLY tackling him down to fill his little mouth with fluid. It was so horrible! He wanted to play so badly but had no energy to do so that he would get upset. It was so sad as a parent to watch this all unfold. Hoping for a good night sleep we had everything but that.

He proceeded to wake up every hour and a half and Michael had just come down with the terrible cold I had that caused Cooper’s hospitalization. It was a wretched night all over again and full of terrors. Finally, the morning approached and we were back to the syringe once again. He still wont drink fluids and I was confident we were not returning to the hospital due to dehydration. So, our day was consumed all over again.

Here we are day three home from the hospital and things are finally a little brighter. He slept through the night and decided to eat a donut hole and cake pops but still refuses liquid unless I syringe it. Not sure what this is all about but he lets me syringe him fluid but still refuses to sip on his own. It’s tiring. It’s time consuming. It has worn my patience immensely thin and it’s not his fault. My exhaustion has finally set in even after a decent night sleep last night that I found myself getting so irritated with Cooper this morning as he only wanted to be held.

It is IMPOSSIBLE to dress and shower when this takes place. Reminding myself that we are home, he’s eating a little even though it’s not healthy and he is allowing me to force fluids; I need not complain. After losing my patience while trying to blow dry my hair, I realized I am not delighting in what I had been yearning for; to be home and have a healthy little boy. Though he isn’t entirely healthy yet, he is on the upswing.

Moment of Truth: Reminding myself not to get caught up in the little things but to be grateful for the little things. AND I am entirely blessed that I have the bestest friend and sister to supply us with a couple dinners not leaving me to worry about such things.

A Series of Traumatic Events

I sit here stoic and beyond tired. I don’t even know which day of the week it is and when everything really began. My body has reached its limit. I’ve tried to make it through the day with yet another night of no sleep; praying for a calm in the large storm we have been encapsulated by.

Three days ago we went into Randall’s Children’s Hospital here in Portland, OR. My son was supposedly sick with pneumonia and an ear infection and had a fever for 4  days. Mind you, he is 21 months old and a fever that long is dangerous.

Walking around the house realizing I couldn’t master any tasks as the wee-little one only wanted to be held and rest his head upon my chest. My husband took the day off due to his mom passing and was trying to occupy his mind while doing yard work. Realizing the inconsistencies in my little man and the little fluid and food he had drank made me wonder if his diagnosis was accurate. Calling his pediatrician the advice nurse immediately sent us to the ER at the Children’s hospital. She asked if he was coughing while I explained that was him simply breathing; he had very labored breathing. This concern was so high off the charts that she didn’t want us to waste any time but to head directly there. Tears flowing from my eyes as I look at my sad, tired, helpless baby, I expressed great concern to my husband.

As we traveled to the hospital, his eyes struggled to stay open and not because he was trying not to sleep but simply because his sickness was taking him over. We reach the ER and all of a sudden 7 hours passed by and I’m wondering what just happened. It was so quick, yet so painfully long. The questions posing of what is happening, why is wouldn’t perk up, what’s wrong with his heart, why is his breathing so labored, does he have pneumonia or an ear infection? The questions swarmed around my husband and I as if we had just landed the worlds largest bee hive being stung in thousands of places.

The doctor brought to our attention that we would be staying over night and probably be here for a few days. The anxiety welled up inside my being filling every inch of my body. I see my son go through rounds of coughing that would lead him to stop breathing for what felt like minutes at a time. His eyes would water, face swell and the redness would turn to bright it almost turned blue. The fear was colored all over my face. Looking helpless at my husband we yearned for his next breath. He couldn’t inhale; he would begin the exhale of another coughing round only leading him to not inhale once again. Same routine, red face, watering eyes, and a helpless look that pour from his eyes begging for us to take it away. It was as if he could speak so clearly through his eyes leaving me feeling utterly helpless and broken.
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The doctors hated that his breathing wasn’t picking up and searched for more answers than dehydration. Strangling his little mummy wrapped body the nurse fetched for a vain to place the IV and a board to tape to his arm to so he wouldn’t be able to rip it out. Now with the use of only one hand this poor child became more agitated. They pricked the same arm for 4 tubes of blood. They ordered an EKG and more blood work, vacuuming out his nose for more culture testing’s; the trauma simply wouldn’t end.
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Finally they stopped the fluids as his progression only kept getting worse. The concern now was the fluid filling up around his heart and in his lungs. What does a mom and dad do when you see your helpless babe worthless and lifeless? Being a parent you long to make things better, change the circumstances, bring hope, comfort and security. All was lost. We were unable to provide this even though the deepest parts of our soul longed to run away from the hospital, detaching every tube and wire connected to his body keeping him held hostage.
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The night progressed and only got worse. A mother’s nightmare kept proceeding to never wake me up but to only find myself further in the pit. We lay him to rest on our chests while bouncing him was the only thing he wanted. He clenched tightly to us wrapping his legs around as if he never wanted to be let go. The continuation of pricking and prodding never came to a stop. His tired body was beyond traumatized that sleep could not set in. He awoke an hour later to only begin his hallucinations. The scariest things I’ve ever experienced. It was an out of body experience. We would thrash around, falling, banging his head and chin upon the prison crib, writhing in pain with blood curdling screams. His eyes were open but he wasn’t conscious. It was as if he could not see or hear you. His eyes were lifeless. This event was the first of the night with many more to follow. It was beyond scary, nothing we could do, we couldn’t leave the room, unplug the cords, or simply let him know it was going to be okay.

He fell asleep for 30 minutes to be woken up by monitors beeping loudly. His oxygen had sunk, nurses and doctors all rush to his aid while we watch them attach oxygen tubes to his little face. Yet another wire for this poor baby. Unable to tell us why this has happened the concern only deepens. Within the hours the second bought of hallucinations came only to worsen immensely. I began a slight panic attack in the midst of not being able to calm him down, his IV ripped from his hands, blood tossed to and fro. My face covered with pools of blood. It looked like a murder scene. Paging the nurse, they came to finally allow all the wires to rest for a few minutes while I took him up and down the hall wearing a small child’s mask to keep from spreading whatever it was he had.

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Attempting to eat a couple goldfish and drink a couple sips

At this point I begged them not to put the IV back in until morning and they obliged. Sending Michael home at three in the morning knowing I needed one of us to be sane as my sanity had already left hours prior. Looking at beautiful downtown Portland with all the lights, Cooper became a little more content, no wires, no IV, no oxygen and just his mommy to hold him dear. He drank a couple sips of apple juice and ate a couple of goldfish. This was a milestone. I let him sit there with me for two hours to simply get an ounce down of fluid and a little food to nourish his body. By 5:10 in the morning, I laid him by my side to rest. We slept until 7:25.

Michael called at 8 to check in. He brought coffee, clothes, toothbrush and the bare necessities. By 9 am another hallucination took place. My anger deepened as it only got worse. My son longing to leave this prison and not understanding why we were leaving him there and not protecting him was all unknown in his little mind. The unexplained feelings a parents battles when you know the hospital is the safest place for him, yet the continuation of traumatic events is a lose-lose situation.

Yet again begging for release we were able to walk him outside because his outbursts were so horrific nothing would calm him down and he began to endanger himself. We walked outside, his thoroughly exhausted body was helpless. Yearning to dump fluids in him knowing this was our only escape; he kept refusing. Finally, we approached the 6th floor yet again, a new doctor arrives explaining all this tests came back clear, his heart looks to be okay. Everything must be related to a severe viral infection, pneumonia and sever dehydration. We hoped this diagnosis was 100% accurate as leaving was a whole new realm of scary. We wanted out of this traumatic place, but we also wanted to leave knowing he would be okay.

Finally being released at 3pm, we head home with our exhausted, traumatized child. The questions filled my soul: “will he be okay, can I keep him hydrated, will his oxygen remain stable…?” These were all real questions with only time to tell.

This experience was so horrific that my only prayer was begging the Lord to allow him to live. I would never wish a parent to ever experience what we went through. I never thought I would pray “just keep him alive, please keep him alive!” for my child. The desperation that seeps in is a whirlwind of emotions.

Part II tomorrow on what the days preceding look like….

Moment of Truth: Reality his our family very hard this week. Losing my mother-in-law and coming close to losing my child. The horrific chain of events was beyond what we could ever imagine. Praying and continuing to pray that we can have a calm in the middle of the storm. Please Lord, let there be an end in sight.

(Read more about The Never-Ending-Roller-Coaster of life)

21 Month Old Trauma

The trauma of being in a hospital for a 21 month old is not only horrific for him, but also his parents. We appreciate the hospital care but have come to a point of extreme frustration as they take forever to tend to a child who literally hasn’t slept in 48 hours apart from a two hour nap. (Apart from the oxygen scare) The delirium has set in late last night and all he wanted was to be taken home…. Helpless parents beyond sad and worn down, don’t know how to stop the fits of delirium as he becomes a different person and can’t even look at you. It’s as if he’s in a different world. How to help? You can’t.
I’ve had three hours of sleep myself and am exhausted. Pleading with the Lord that our son will be okay and not get worse once taken home and that all the testing’s will come back clear. Its a very scary position as a parent not knowing if you are acting too soon or not soon enough.
More details later…