Set Backs

I cradled Gideon this morning, with his head on my shoulder and his knees tucked high.  He fell asleep.  When I placed him back down in the crib, I heard a "pop" and Gideon was no longer so content.  Nervously I lifted up his gown. I swore.  Four letter words came flooding out my mouth as my heart began to race and my feet turned to pacing.  I rang the nurse bell, opened the door and my small voice said "Hello? I need some help.  I think his tube came out!"  Tears, panic, whispered swearing, consoling as the nurse went to find a catheter to place in the hole.  We had to wait for someone from surgery to come.  A smooth insertion and a quick tape.  Gideon was not too hard to console.

The nurses left and things were a little calmer.  I turned to distracting him.  He seemed uncomfortable and was moving around.  I checked his belly and the temporary tube had come out and there was more scrambling for nurses and supplies to find a tube that fits.  Where is the guy from surgery?  Now his tummy is leaking.  It's hard to secure the new temporary tube in place.  Did you just wipe those secretions with his gown?  Thoughts of antibiotics swirl in my head.  Please Lord, no infections.  He's fighting so hard.  He hates being held down.  He screams and I try my best to console.  The new temporary tube is in and layers of tape make a mess of the site and we wait.  

I feel shaky.  

I sit in a chair and they place Gideon on my lap and I try to make everything better, though my songs and comfort only go so far.  The doctor arrives.  He asks what has happened as I place Gideon gently back in the crib.  He inspects the mess left by the nurses.  His student holds down Gideon's legs that try there best to flail and I sing "Black Bird" by The Beatles while holding his arms.  Sticky, wet tape is removed to reveal the tube inserted into the stoma.  The doctor sucks back some stomach juices with a syringe to make sure the tube is placed were it should be before removing it.  Yellowy, brown secretions/juices bubble and ooze out the hole that leads to his stomach.  I think my eyes grow a little wide.  At least this time, the doctor asks for some gauze and he gently sponges his tummy.  He uses a syringe to deflate the small ball of fluid on the Mic Key G-tube that came out and then lubricates it before sliding it into the stoma.  He re-inflates the Mic Key (with more fluid than before to hopefully help it to stay in) and tries the syringe again to see if he can suck out any stomach juices to confirm the placement.  No dice.  By now my singing is having no effect on Gideon's demeanor and it feels like a slight failure on both our parts.  The doctor informs me that even though he couldn't confirm placement, he thinks that the stomach should still be attached, as the two buttons holding it in place seem fine, and that there is no play/wiggle room happening with the Mic Key so everything seems to be in place.  He will arrange for a study done under xray to confirm before we use it again.  

Worn out, it doesn't take long for Gideon to crash.  He's still sleeping now.  

I, on the other hand, am buzzing with adrenaline and coffee, nervously awaiting the porter to bring us to xray.

Please Lord may this set back not be too great.

The guilt is killing me.