The Turning Point 5

  I was sleeping in our den that we converted into a room, Demba was next to me, as we slept, in my dream I saw a man wearing a white gown. The man put his lips together and blew air from his mouth and the air was strong enough that my hair on my head was shifted I then turned and looked at Demba his face was covered with black flies and I smelled something rotten in the air. I was shortly awakened by my husband entering the room.

  I left work on Friday June 13, to pick up Demba from his sitter. I arrived and saw that his left testicle was the size of a baseball; when this takes place it is described as an inguinal hernia. I rushed Demba to the emergency room at Children’s Hospital in DC. The hours passed and a doctor finally came to see us; we explained and he told us that it was nothing for us to be concerned about; he stated that Demba will have a laparoscopic surgery to repair his hernia; he then literally pushed his testicle in place.

  

            Demba had the surgery on Saturday and he came home on Tuesday. He seemed tired upon discharge and I noticed that the shirt the nurse was wearing had Dembas vomit all over but she dismissed it as reflux. The vomiting started again when we came home and as it stopped we thought nothing of it. We were first time parents and after all he was just released from the hospital. In the morning Demba had a temperature and he did not look well my mother came over just to visit Demba and at first glance she asked that my husband and her should take Demba to the hospital. I left for work.

 

The events that took place in the hospital where relayed to me as such: in the emergency room the doctors gave Demba a sweet substance to taste and he refused so he was rushed into surgery and an incision was made to open up his stomach; upon opening his stomach they discovered 80% of Dembas small intestine was twisted. The small intestine has a greater function than the large intestine because it is a vital organ that helps with the digestive flow as it processes the body’s nutrients.  By the time I arrived at the hospital Demba was ready for surgery, the doctor came out and told us that he had a 50% rate of survival. The prayers, tears and question commenced all at once.

After the surgery, Demba was taken to a recovery room and what I saw is to this day, the most disturbing sight in my life. My son laid in the bed with all of his intestines hung on something that looked like a close line and it was covered in plastic, his insides were suspended in air it seemed. The color of his skin that was once mocha turned into charcoal and his eyes were rolled back in his head and but his eyelids were twitching and I smelled that smell that I dreamt about, like something was rotting. I passed out.

            Demba was officially diagnosed with short bowel-syndrome, the hospital provided no answers. In the history of Children’s Hospital Dembas case is one of its kind, we never pursed his case with the legal force as most people advised us to do because only God can be the judge of all human beings. Demba does not eat by mouth yet; he feeds from a g-tube and has a central line where he gets his supplemental nutrition. He is five years old now and if your see him you would never guess he was a sick child. He is extremely intelligent and is only delayed in the areas of social adaptive behavior.

  

The Turning Point Part 4

 

A hospital for me is more than doctors, operating rooms, over priced food in the cafeteria and the sirens or, depending where you are the helicopter landing on the roof. I see the hospitals for its sleep rooms, developing friendly relationships with the cafeteria staff because on a good day they may offer you free lunch. Familiarizing yourself with the security officers is a must in order for you to have access to most parts of the hospital e.g. (softer chairs to nap on during the day or breaking the rules of how many visitors at one time without being reprimanded.)

            My son developed NEC a very common disease in pre-term babies. Demba was induced into a coma by his doctors. NEC attacks the intestines so an ileostomy was performed. Most people are familiar with an ostomy; an incision is made in the stomach is made so one can excrete in a bag. Demba had two incisions on each side of his stomach. I was trained by the hospital staff to care change and clean the site and the bag. I recall seeing my son use the restroom through is stomach and in a bag and it was all liquid, sometimes green but most time yellow but if at any time there was a foul odor, it was not a good sign. Demba resembled the Michelin man with tubes going in and out of him. The swelling takes place when the blood is infected.

            I lived inside The Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh for three month. My days included sleeping in the sleep rooms, or waiting room when there was not enough rooms, freshening up in the restrooms before going to be by Dembas side until visiting hours are over. I developed relationships with other families and kept the chaplains number really close. The plan was for Demba to get well enough to reconnect his bowels, heal and then come home.

            The distance took a financial toll and emotional toll on my marriage. I struggled to keep my emotions at bay. My family was a big support system and came to visit me every week. We decided to have Demba transferred to the children’s hospital in D.C. whilst awaiting the reconnection surgery, in mid February 2007 Demba was finally transferred via ambulance. Upon arrival he thrived and he was able to undergo surgery during the first week of April.  He was released from the hospital in mid April.

            Dembas was six months old by the time he came home but he only weighed five pounds, which may not seem much to most people but for us it was a relief. I followed up with all of  his appointments from his team of doctors who performed the surgery to his pediatrician. Demba had a hernia which his pediatrician bought to my attention but the hospital staff asked me to wait until he was a year old.

            Life was great, I was able to find work as an office manager and my husband received a promotion a work, everything was going well until one day when I picked Demba up from his babysitter… To be continued….

Sources For My final Analysis Paper

         My sources for my final analysis paper will include data and ratio from the health facilities that are relevant to my post. I will also use sources from the internet about women's health.

The Turning Point part 3

The ability to adapt to any situation or circumstance is a skill that many strive to achieve. I cannot for certain say that I adapted to or accepted that I bared a son who was born pre-term, I can say that I was literally just going with the punches and with every punch the more my depression worsen. I questioned God every single day about the path that my life had taken. I was oblivious to the fact that I was in deep denial about my situation, a phase that I went through and until two years ago, I am thankful that I have now come to terms with my destiny. I loathed waiting and letting for fate to take its course because in my mind my son needed to get healthy promptly. The time frame of a normal full-term pregnancy is nine months or 39 to 40 weeks. I gave birth at 26 ½ weeks about six months in. The NICU team of doctors made it clear that we understood that our child could not go home earlier than three months in order to receive proper medical care and ensure healthy continual weight gain.

I drove back to Virginia with my husband so that I could pack and go back to my son’s side. I spent Christmas and New Years Eve  in Virginia with my  husband and my family and lurking in my heart was the feeling of  resentment of  having to  leave my luxury apartment, my comfortable bed with the post card view of the monument in the background that I also saw when I stepped onto the balcony. I hated parting from my haven and go stay in the hospital to be my son’s side. Please don’t judge me until you have been in the situation, this was the denial stage of my life. I believe all of us go through this stage during different circumstances in our lives but most importantly we should not get stuck in denial.

I cried all the way to Pittsburgh. I stayed my brother’s house for the most part but not wanting to impose on him and his wife I opted to find ulterior means of accommodation at the hospital. The sin that I can’t shake is my sense of pride. The thought of asking someone that knew me for assistance was not an option for me. Growing up with three older brothers and me being the last child and the only girl I acquired a thickness to my skin and a set of social skills that assists me in many situations that

I quickly settled in with the flow and pace of the hospital. I made sure I was among the first people in line for the free never changing turkey sandwich that tasted like fillet mignone on the days where I had no money. The nights when I couldn’t get a sleep room at the hospital because of the over population, I slept in the waiting room, my back pack consisted of toothbrushes, undergarments, perfume, lotion and a change of clothes that I washed every other week on the seventh floor where the laundry room was located.

To be continued.