We'll we had
Numb Bum day a couple of days ago and I'm pleased to report we are
home and the Wee Man is at school.
It was a long, hard, anxiety filled day, to put it nicely. I've
learned how much of a performance nurses and doctors go through on a
daily basis. The words "putting on a brave face" seem irrelevant when
you realise what they have to do to placate parents and young patients. I
think the Wee Man's medical team deserve an Oscar for their acting
performance.
It wasn't until we were finally discharged that the nurses and doctors
let on how dangerous Numb Bum day really was. We knew it was dangerous,
otherwise why do it in a hospital. But there was that bit in my brain
that thought it would be ok since we were in a hospital filled with
nurses and doctors. His Consultant was on the ward all day who is an
allergy speicailst, his allergy nurse was within ten feet of us all
day. So all was well in my uneducated mind. But throughout the day we
had little indications that what was happening to the Wee Man was pretty
much as life threatening as you can get, short of sticking your finger
in a socket whilst sitting in a bath of water.
So what made me think all was not as rosy as I had thought? Well...
1/ The Consultant's instruction to give the Wee Man a good dose of his
anti-histamine before anything was done to him was the first
indication. Seemed a sensible idea to me though.
2/ Then we were advised that a cannula was to be put in...just in case.
That was the first real warning that the day wasn't to be as "easy" as I
had first thought.
3/ The Wee Man was given the bed directly facing the nursing station,
despite there being lots of other available beds, again innocent enough
until I realised that all the nurses were keeping a very vigilant eye on
us.
4/ The extra, careful scrutiny the nurses and doctors had on what each
other were doing whilst they were with the Wee Man. I'm pretty sure
it's not "normal" for nurses to ask, and ask and ask doctors if their
gloves are latex free or for them to order doctors to "wash your hands!".
5/ At the end of the day, Nurse K the allergy nurse, revealed to us that
she had been carrying Epipens with her all day. This is a Nurse who on
a
daily basis performs food challenges on allergic children. Literally
feeding allergic foods to children with proven allergies to the food and
who are at a very high risk of anaphylaxis from any contact with the
food. Carrying Epipens on her person is not "normal" for her even in
those life threatening situations, so for her to do so on Numb Bum Day
made me realise just how much danger the Wee Man had been in.
And finally the biggest indication that Numb Bum Day was indeed a Big
day was when we were finally given the all clear and the whole medical
team physically relaxed into themselves. It was so strange to watch and
experience. I could see the tension ebb away from Nurse K. She
slumped into her chair and her whole body just ..relaxed. The tension on
her face melted away and she was our Nurse K again. The smile on her
face was nothing like the forced grin she was displaying all day. She
was herself again.
I had a chat with Dr. H., the Wee Man's Consultant, and even she showed
physical signs of relief. This woman is a first class Consultant who's
seen and dealt with just about anything you could imagine an allergy
Consultant would have to deal with.
I thought maybe I was projecting my own sense of relief onto everyone
but thinking back to what was being said, how it was being said and
their physical demeanour, I'm pretty sure the relief the medical team
felt far outweighed the relief I felt. They must have been pretty
stressed.
Despite all of that the Wee Man took everything in his stride as usual.
The cannula was dismissed as a nuisance. Just before Nurse K assisted the doctor in putting the cannula
in she looked at the Wee Man and made him promise he'd "still like me
after I've done this?". The Wee Man gave her his "Are you crazy?!"
look. The Play Nurse anxiously advised me to hold a book between his
face and his hand so he wouldn't see what was happening. I told her
there was no need and she thought I was insane and looked on anxiously.
The cannula was in and his hand bandaged without so much as a wince or a
whimper from him.
He completely ignored the actual injections of the vaccine. The
adventure story I was reading to him was much more exciting. In fact
his only complaint from the day was that the cannula inhibited his
ability to play with the toys in the toy room.
The medical staff were full of praise for his "braveness" and they were
in awe of his maturity. I must admit I do think the medical staff were
being overly anxious about the procedures being done to the Wee Man. I
do believe that anxiety breeds anxiety. There were many a time I had to sugar coat whatever the medical team were saying and dismiss them as "crazy".
In all it was an experience I would not wish to go through again. Unfortunately we're back into the hospital next month for a soya challenge. I hope, hope, hope the Wee Man passes. Introducing soya into his diet would open up so much more variety for him. Not just the yoghurts, cheese and ice cream but all the things with hidden soya in them.
Maybe, just maybe the Wee Man will soon be able to eat some chocolate!