My Baby - My Hero

I say again, there is nothing so terrifying as when your baby is extremely sick;

• When you are rushing her to the ER at 3:30 AM;
• When they immediately get her to a room because her O2 sat is only 88%;
• When they are shoving tubes in her nose to deliver oxygen to her;
• When her blood is all over you from repeated attempts to start an IV;
• When the ER doctor says she is being admitted to the hospital;
• When the nurses call in a specialist for an assessment and he decides to admit her to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) for more intensive and closely supervised care;
• When you are watching her tiny chest struggling to rise and fall and thinking that the next breath might be her last.

My Isabella is my hero.

In the wee hours of Sunday, February 12^th, the Hubs and I made the decision to take Isabella to the ER because she had been struggling to breathe for several hours and “the fish” was no longer helping her.  She would pant and gasp and wheeze and her chest and stomach would sink and heave with each and every breath.  After arriving at the ER and discovering that her oxygen saturation was only 88%, she was immediately taken to a room where she was poked and prodded, given oxygen, taken for a chest x-ray, and, given an IV (or so we sort of thought).  Shortly thereafter the ER doc told us that her chest x-ray resembled RSV and bacterial pneumonia and her white blood cell count was sky high and so he was admitting her to the pediatric floor of the hospital.  Upon our arrival on the pediatric floor, the nurses discovered that Isabella’s IV was not functional and so it had to be pulled and started again, this time in her foot.  It wasn’t long before the nurses noticed her heart rate continuing to stay high, despite her being semi-asleep, because she was fighting so hard to breathe.  They decided to call in the Pediatric Pulmonologist, an" Intensivist", who reviewed her chart and x-rays and determined that she did not actually have pneumonia but rather inflammation in her lungs, “air trapping”, and likely a “reactive airway disease” i.e. asthma.  He recommended a relatively new treatment known as “heliox” where helium is combined with oxygen and mixed with albuterol to help open the airways.  This treatment would be a continuous flow for 4 hours and would need to be performed in the PICU.  Of course we gave our consent and we were whisked away and set up in a PICU room.  It was a heartwrenching thing to see my little sweet baby attached to so many wires and tubes, but still trying to smile.  She was so brave, so tough, so strong.

After one heliox treatment, it seemed things were improving.  Her lungs sounded more functional and she began to “perk” a bit.  About an hour later, however, she became very irritable and started pulling at the wires and tubes, thrashing, arching her back, and refusing a paci or bottle .  The respiratory therapist and nurse, upon listening to her lungs again, determined that she was likely having a bronchospasm, and so another 4 hour heliox treatment was started.  I was anxious and scared, wondering if my baby would ever be free from the tubes and wires helping her to breathe.  Still, she was so brave and strong, and soon she began to relax again; enough to be able to get a little sleep.

Long story short, the second heliox treatment did its job and Isabella’s lungs continued to move air well with a little help from nebulizer treatments every 2, then 3, then 4 hours.  Steroids, antibiotics, and fluids were being pumped in her tiny body via IV.  “Maintenance meds” typically used to prevent/treat asthma were being administered by inhaler.  I began to relax as she began to be more like herself.  I no longer feared she would die.  The nurses and respiratory therapists were amazing and I credit them – as well as my baby’s strength and courage – for saving her life!

We were discharged a few days later with prescriptions for prednisone (oh joy!), FloVent (the asthma maintenance med), Singluair (another asthma and allergy maintenance med), and albuterol for the nebulizer.  It hurts me to see such a tiny baby, not even a year old, on so many meds, especially the ones that scare her so to administer…………but then it is far better than seeing her struggle, hooked to all of the machines, fearing for her life. 

It actually hurts to write about this, the emotion and fear still so close at hand.  I can feel tears pricking the back of my eyes.  I was doing a load of her laundry the other day and came across the little footie pajamas that she was wearing when we rushed her to the ER.  It made me sick to my stomach – the flashback, the emotion, the fear!  I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to put those pajamas on her again. 

You really never know your own strength until it is sorely tested……….but my baby is my hero.  She is amazing and I love her more than words could ever express.

Nerd Alert!!!

Here I sit, mere hours before the official DVD release of the movie “Breaking Dawn Part 1”, and I must sheepishly admit that I’m really excited.  I must also admit, however, that the feminist in me sort of cringes when I say that.  “Why” you ask?  What in the world does a silly vampire movie have to do with feminism – or anti feminism so to speak?  Well let’s discuss, shall we?

Feminism and the vampire novel have not traditionally been “friends”.  At the very crux of sexism in vampire literature is the standard of male vampire and human female – where the vampire is extremely powerful (virtually indestructible), intellectually superior, and so incredibly gorgeous that even the most strong and virtuous victim cannot resist.  If this isn’t a metaphor for male dominance I don’t know what is!  In the old Dracula stories, the female characters are faced with two equally unpleasant alternatives: abandon their initial quasi-independence and accept the status of “victim”, which the men (both supernatural and otherwise) impose upon them; or give in to the seduction of the vampire and gain power – BUT it is power which is represented as sexualized and evil.  In the modern vampire stories i.e. Twilight, human Bella can only choose between relying on vampire Edward or werewolf Jacob to save her from whatever horrible things are happening to her (or are caused by her very human, very female uber weak and clumsy self), or relying on Edward to “allow her” to become a vampire so that she too has access to the power.  And don’t even get me started on Edward's control of Bella's actions and restriction of her choices. Bella's sense of self is so dependent on Edward that his absence in the second book of the series, New Moon, causes her to enter a state of severe depression. Some Twilight critics have even labeled Edward's actions in the series emotional abuse which may be appropriate, but it is also an extension of an attitude towards women that is hardly new.

So why in the world would a “go women” type lady like me be so enthralled with vampire stories and particularly addicted to the Twilight series?  All of the above is not to say that vampire stories are inherently anti-feminist. The power dynamic of male vampire/female human is actually uniquely set up for the possibilities of rebellion and exploration of the nature of power in any male/female relationship. If it is a metaphor for male dominance then it is also a metaphor for the options for women to respond to the power inequity.  And what about Buffy the Vampire Slayer?  Yay!  Go human girl!  Buffy does not always succeed in her battles with vampires, but what is important is that the outcome is not predetermined - she will not inevitably give in to her male opponent's superior strength and power. By the end of the series, Buffy's slaying abilities develop to the point where her once threatening enemies are increasingly represented as annoyances rather than equal opponents.

Inevitably, “Twihards” like myself will point out that Bella has powers; she is a “shield”, meaning that her mind basically blocks any kind of telepathic interference – and that she pretty much saves the day at the end of the series. (Funny though how for most of the series she isn’t really aware of this power – she actually thinks something is wrong with her because Edward can’t hear her mind – and so of course she does not have the ability to choose to use this power until near the end.)

I could go on and on about anti feminism and feminism in vampire stories, particularly Twilight since I am so ridiculously hooked on it, but I fear this is already getting boring and turning into something like a term paper for a Women’s Studies class.  All in all, it is kind of humorous to me that I am such a “Twihard”.  I mean, really, I am 30 something and I have children and responsibilities........but maybe that is exactly why I love Twilight.  While the novels are far from literary masterpieces, I find it so easy to get lost in them, to escape reality, to remember what first all-encompassing love is like, to think back on being an awkward lonely teen who would have given it all to be strong, fast, beautiful – virtually indestructible.  Perhaps I can see a little of myself in Bella.  Perhaps I can’t.  Perhaps I want to – or not.  Well maybe. 

Until later......(((Hugs)))