First, we arrived to the hospital a little early--mainly because we didn't want to sit at home and try to keep Brandt distracted from food. Once we got to the hospital, we checked in at registration. For some reason, they never did get the copy of Brandt's physical and health history that the pediatrician's office said they had--luckily I had a copy of it in my binder so crisis averted.
Then, we were called back to pre-op where we were assigned a nurse to do vitals and a physical exam. A member of anesthesia came to go over the procedures, and as he was questioning and then explaining I got so lost with what he was saying. I asked him to repeat himself--and as he proceeded to talk about an"EEG" and "when we have our MRIs later," I knew wires got crossed somewhere. Apparently, they had booked us for the wrong procedure--even though they had the doctor's prescription for MRIs! They swiftly had us pack up and move to the correct pre-op room. Crisis averted.
Once we got to the new pre-op room, the process started over. A new nurse, new vital signs, and a new anesthesiologist. He said that he wanted to give Brandt a much safer oral anesthetic, instead of the general anesthesia he was scheduled for. I figured that was great, because it would ease some of Darrin's fears. Once they gave us the clearance for MRIs, we waited for nearly two hours before someone from transport came to get us for the procedure. They told me it was important to keep Brandt awake in order for the oral anesthesia to work, but that was a challenge in and of itself.
Once they got us to MRIs, it was another nurse, more vitals, and another hour of sitting and waiting. Apparently since we weren't scheduled correctly, we had to wait for the MRI room to empty. And once the room was emptied, the nurse realized she didn't have enough of the oral anesthesia, so we had to wait for someone to bring it up from pharmacy.
Finally, the anesthesia arrived, and after 20 minutes of fighting sleep, Brandt was out. They wheeled us off to MRIs with Brandt sleeping on me. I carefully placed him on the imaging table as the nurse and radiologist began to strap him in. Darrin and I were allowed to stay in the room, so we took our seats in the back as they began to push him in.
And, then the nightmare continued. Not even a minute into the procedure, and we hear Brandt scream and then cough. Respiration dropped. The radiologist and nurse came flying in and pulled him out, threw him into an upright position, patted his back, and administered oxygen. His respiration was back up, but he was screaming and frantic--I held him in my arms and wiped away his tears. I rocked him and rubbed his head, and he was out again. They decided to continue. So again I placed him on the table while they strapped him in and wheeled him under. Darrin and I sat down, and it began again. This time, we sat and I prayed that he would be ok and be able to finish the imaging. He went another twenty minutes--and then another coughing fit and the ladies came running in again, unstrapping him and clearing his airways. The nurses said it was no longer safe for the procedure to continue. We went back and forth, and she finally said she would leave it up to the anesthesiologist.
The radiologist came in, and I asked her if she was able to complete any of the imaging. She said no--that she had two more parts of the brain to do, and she did not do any of the spine yet. I asked her if those other two parts were very important, and she told me that one of them was the most crucial image of the whole brain. Five more minutes, tops, and the brain MRI would be complete. She said if we could get him back to sleep, she'd give it a try, but he was too agitated to sleep.
Yet another member of anesthesia came in, and he said since the other doctor ordered the liquid anesthetic already, he would not administer general anesthesia in the same day. He went on to say that with the degree of Brandt's cough, he wouldn't have administered any anesthesia to begin with.
So, while in recovery, the nurse put me back on the phone with scheduling.
After spending the whole day bickering back and forth with Darrin, I'm not sure how I can really do this again. And not just arguing today, but the past four months of us arguing. Neither of us have been without fault, but the constant disagreeing is truly wearing on me. I'm at the point where I'm just not sure how much more I can do alone. I'm tired of us being so against each other, and I wish that we could be on the same page--but we're on opposite sides of the world.
So, I try to push forward, but I'm really lost and not sure what I'm pushing for anymore. Darrin says the MRIs are all about ME getting MY way and that having a diagnosis won't make Brandt better, although he disagrees that anything is wrong. He stresses that if they find something wrong with the brain, they can't do anything to "fix" the brain. And, I just don't know anymore.
All I do know is that today is the day from hell...
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