So I ended it last time with my precious girl being loaded into an ambulance and the horrible things a mind can do to you when left alone.
I sat in the front of the ambulance with the driver while Zay watched Toy Story in the back seat while being monitored. (I wasn't allowed in the back with her. They didn't want me in the way I'm sure.) Her oxygen was still ok and the ambulance driver was so laid back that it helped keep at ease... kind of. I knew JM was going to meet at the hospital and I felt like I was holding my breath waiting to get there. I needed someone stronger than me. I needed to fall apart. I needed someone to say that it was going to be ok.
We finally pulled into Scottish rite and I ran to the back to welcome Zay and to let her know that I was right there with her. We walked in the big double doors like a crazy episode of Grey's Anatomy and I was asked a million questions and the EMTs were spouting off medical lingo to the nurses they were passing us off to. It was wild and in slow-motion at the same time. Weird. There was this common thread of conversations where people were confused by her lack of appearing REALLY sick and then the comment would be thrown out: "Have you seen the x-ray?" I heard this probably 5 times from leaving the urgent care office and being admitted into our room several hours later.
The nurse returned and made me hold my baby down while she rammed a needle in her arm and dug around for a vein. With mt husband, father-in-law and me about to go loco on her ass, she finally gave in to my demands for her to 'find another vein'. This whole time Isaiah was screaming and I was having to hold her still which was excruciating for my heart and my sweet girls neck. She couldn't breath because she was panicking and there wasn't much space in her cramped air-way. Finally they found another easy vein on her hand and I could just lay with my girl on the bed and let her whimper for a while.
Eventually we were moved upstairs but by this point it was pretty late. The nurse on the 3rd floor was awesome and we were immediately welcomed in with all that we would need for the night. JM headed home to relieve my parents and it was just me and my girl. She slipped off to sleep, which was terribly loud with snoring. I am thankful that she was snoring though because I could tell when she stopped breathing at night. I would be in a half-sleep and wake up because she wasn't snoring and immediately start counting. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10... I'd jump out of bed and move her a bit to get her to breathe. I would climb back into bed and cry. This was our routine for a couple nights. Early, like at 2 am on Sun morning the doctor on our floor came in and said that, in her opinion, Isaiah need a CT scan first thing in the morning to figure out how they were going to work with this abscess. She said it was impressive (I had heard that said a few times at this point as well) and that with the scan they could plan for surgery if the antibiotics weren't doing anything by the next day.
By this point I had so much peace and assurance that Zay was going to be ok. It was prayer. People knew what was going on and they were praying and I could literally feel myself sheltered in a huge covering of prayer.
Even though I knew she would make it in my heart-of-hearts I still had to sit there and watch my baby struggle. Sunday morning we were wheeled down stairs for the CT scan and my girl stared vomiting. She was sitting on the table for the scan pitiful, vomiting, small, weak, alone in her pain. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't make it better. At this point she could barely swallow her pain meds. I was coaching her to swallow 1/2 a mL at a time. 1/2 a mL! She would choke on it and then she couldn't breathe and then panic. Terrible. Terrible. So the CT was canceled until they could sedate her later that day. We went back to her room and then the Calvary was sent in!!!!!
Sweet friends and family came by with food, snacks, toys. It was like Christmas. We slipped out of the CT round 2 and all was well. We returned, to our mini-holiday. Let me say right now that there were some people out there who blessed me beyond words. There are not enough "shout-outs" or thank yous to express what these wonderful people did for Isaiah and for me in this day that seemed so uncertain yet at the same time they made us feel hopeful and comfortable.
By the end of Sunday we had our surgery scheduled for the next day but poor IG was deteriorating quickly. She stopped talking, she couldn't take pain meds at all, her teeth were turning gray because she had been without nutrients for so long. I just held her, I prayed and I held her. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. I had such conflicting emotions: On the one hand, yay, she would be better and that nasty abscess would be gone. On the other, my little girl was having surgery and would have to have anaesthesia- so much uncertainty.
I'm crazy tired. This event sucks the life out of me, even now. I'm so thankful its over!! I guess tomorrow night I'll try to finish up with the beautiful ending.