I’ve been thinking a lot about this first trip to the ER lately. I remember it was unseasonably warm that day.  The sun was bright and the sky was a beautiful blue, which is unusual for Michigan in February.  February in Michigan usually equals cold, grey, gloomy, and snowy.

Caroline was getting sick, she was coughing some and we had to give her a breathing treatment the night before.  I knew she was getting sick so I went to work super early to round on all of my patients and be able to leave early if I needed to.  My babysitter went over to my house and picked her up and took her to her house (literally down the street).  We had been texting that day about how everything was going.  She was feeling ok with Caroline but she was definitely sick and wanted me to come home early.

I left work and drove towards home.  It’s a 45 min drive from work.  I decided to stop quickly to get some pedialyte because our sweet girl didn’t tolerate drinking milk when she was sick.  And she would only drink strawberry, don’t you dare try to give her anything grape flavored.

I was pulling into the store when my babysitter called. She said she was really struggling and she needed me at home NOW.

So I drove very fast and almost got into a car accident when I turned off of a dirt road too quickly and almost spun out…I remember feeling absolutely helpless.  My babysitter did not have any medical training but she is a smart person and I trusted her instincts.  I wanted to be there with Caroline and I couldn’t get there fast enough.  My heart was pounding out of my chest.  I needed to see my baby.  I needed to know exactly how bad it was.

And it was bad.

I walked into my sitter’s house and Caroline was in her car seat propping her up getting a breathing treatment.  She was working so hard to breathe.  Her color was terrible.  I lost count on her respiratory rate when it was over 50.  I was wigging out.  Yes, I know I’m a doctor. But I’m a mom first. So I called her pediatrician on his cell phone (perks of being a doctor) and explained what was happening and that I felt she needed to be seen.  He was actually working in the pediatric urgent care portion of the ER at that very minute–which was 4 minutes away from me.  He said he would meet me in the waiting room.  He did.  And he said she needed to go into the ER.

That choice was stressful in itself.  I trained at that facility.  I know most of the people in that ER. I knew the majority of the attendings, residents (some of whom were my interns on night call), nurses, and respiratory therapists.  I had not kept in touch with any of them.  None of the people working that day knew my situation first hand.  (Later I found out that one of the senior residents had heard something but didn’t really know everything).

So you have to picture me in scubs carrying my hot pink coach diaper bag over one shoulder, the infant seat in that hand, and Caroline in the other arm.  On a good day, Caroline did not look like a normal baby. This was not a good day.  She looked much worse.  So I’m loaded down with all of this stuff carrying a limp baby that is breathing over 50 times a minute through the ER door.  Faces looked up, vaguely registered that they knew me, saw Caroline, and everyone started to scamper.  Nurses and RT’s were moving.  In the ER, when you see a limp baby that is a really bad thing.  But I couldn’t just yell out, ‘Everyone calm down, she’s always this floppy’, even though I kind of wanted to.  Her distress was getting the attention it deserved.  People came up and took bags and baby carriers out of my hands and ushered me into a room.

The ER didn’t look any different than it did during my residency. Bright fluorescent lights, white tile that looked worn, and ugly forest green accents.  It still had the same early 90’s style curtains on the rooms and old 10 inch tv’s on metal arms attached to the walls. They brought me to room 5, which had a monitor and was a larger room.

They put her on a monitor and started breathing treatments and oxygen.  (I was starting to stress about how far I would let this go and how bitchy I was going to have to be.) Once she had a few breathing treatments in a row, she started to calm down her breathing and she was able to rest. She had 5 breathing treatments and was on some supplemental oxygen when we first arrived.  Once her breathing settled down, she didn’t need the oxygen to keep her saturation at 90%.

I went through everything with the ER attending.  To this day I don’t know his name because he didn’t tell me what it was. I explained her situation.  I gave him all of the paperwork I had, including an H and P I kept in the diaper bag that I wrote for the sitters incase they ever needed it.  I also had a notorized paper signed by both myself and my husband stating that Caroline was a DNR. I gave him that as well.

My partners at the hospital knew that I left early because Caroline was sick.  A few of them texted me to see how she was and I let them know we were in the ER.  I felt so blessed to have such a caring group of people to help me and support me.  One of my partners even wanted to come to the ER with me.  (If Caroline hadn’t turned around I would have needed him there with me.) Love you guys.

Of course the doc wanted to admit her for ‘observation’. I was so thankful I had such a good relationship with Caroline’s pediatrician.  I just told the ER doc to call him, discuss the case with him (the way he should do anyway), and if my pediatrician felt she needed to be admitted, knowing her disease and situation, I would accept that.

We went home later that night 🙂  I could do everything that she needed at home.  I could give her breathing treatments and pedialyte and anything else she needed at home.  We stayed up most of the night rocking in the  glider in the living room.

(Steve was out of town but I was able to speak with him, he did answer the phone and he came home early the next day).