Slobbery Raspberries - Headed Home Part 9 October 11 2015, 3 Comments
September 10, 2013 continued.
Bryer's eyes rolled back into his head, he stopped breathing and turned blue. I looked up and to the right at his monitor and his heart rate was steadily dropping along with his O2 stats. Our nurse at the head of the bed pushed the code button or pulled the cord? I can't be sure which, but I know she moved into action.
The rainbow curtain ripped back and the first face I saw was the last face that had just left. Dr. A looked serious and quite shocked.
"What happened?!?!" He said as he swooped down to the left side of the rocker where Bryer was still in my arms.
I leaned my head back as far as I could to make room and fully expected them to scoop him from my arms. Many others rushed in….
Dr. A took Bryer's neck and jaw and began trying to position it upwards and back in order to help open his airway. About this time is when I heard another doctor yell urgently across to Dr. A from an intubation tray laid out with instruments, "Do you want an airway!?"
Dr. A looked at me. I shook my head back and forth with tears running down and said, "It's ok. It's ok. It's ok." In one of our conversations from days before, Dr. A had mentioned how much more difficult it was to make a decision to take out a breathing tube than it was to decide not to place one. That flashed to mind.
Again the doctor from across the room yells, "Do you want an airway?!"
At this point, Dr. A, who was on his knees, spreads out his arms in a "back-up" type of motion and says, "I've got it." He looks around the room and repeats authoritatively again. "I've got this." The other doctors and nurses step back.
He had taken a neck brace from who knows where and put it around Bryer's neck and gotten his heart rate back up and O2 was climbing.
He looked at me and said, "He's losing his airway."
I will never forget these moments. Bryer still in my arms and Dr. A inches from my face.
Right around this time is when my brother, Aaron, slips in unaware as to what he was walking into. He went over and sat quietly on the couch.
Dr. A asks, "Will your husband be coming?"
"I can call him. Aaron, can you please get ahold of Justin and tell him to get down here?" I called out in the direction of the couch.
Dr. A then arranged for a special type of mask which fit just over his nose. He said it would only be a temporary solution which Bryer could wear for maybe up to 12 hrs. It was set to higher support than a vent and was literally pushing air into Bryer's lungs and then forcing it out keeping his airway open. In fact, it was so forceful that with each breath out Bryer blew slobbery raspberries.
He then looked at me and said, "You and Justin will need to take some time and talk when he gets here.