My Seven Month Old Grandson's Trip To The Hospital

Maybe It's Not Normal

I've heard or read about situations where a person dies fairly young, before their parents or even their grandparents. I don't know about you, such a life altering experience, even if it's not my own, makes me wonder how I would react. I don't know if subconsciously I'm trying to prepare myself for the possibility, or if it's just me being strange, but while I don't actively worry about it, the thought does cross my mind when someone else is going through it.

As of this moment, the only conclusions I've been able to draw from such pondering is, no matter how I think I might feel, I truly won't know until I get there.

The Scare

The First Diagnosis

What makes this post relevant today is, over the weekend, our oldest grandson and second oldest grandchild, went into the hospital. It started Friday afternoon with vomiting and unable to keep any food down and a trip to the Urgent Care where they prescribed some anti-nausea medicine and sent him home. It continued throughout the night into the early morning Saturday when at 3:30 AM, with their son still vomiting, and in obvious discomfort, my oldest son and his wife took him to the emergency room.

The Second Diagnosis

After checking in and waiting to be seen, they realized that their son had a poopy diaper, so they went to go change it. When they did, they found a lot of blood and not a lot of stool. After showing it to the nurse and a physician, it was decided that their son should be taken up via a pediatric ambulance to a children's hospital in Portland (Oregon) called Doernbecher.

The view from the tenth floor of Doernbecher Children's Hospital. At left—In the background is OHSU. The skyway in the foreground leads to the Veterans Administration Hospital.

At that point, the ER staff was leaning toward an infection of some kind, bacterial or viral.

The Phone Call

At 6:30 AM that same morning, I got a call from my son. I'm usually awake and out in my office trying to catch up with what's going on with STEEM during the night, so that's where I was and what I was doing when the call came in.

He doesn't normally call me that early in the morning. He's been known to text. And when he does, it's not usually something that serious, so I was actually kind of perturbed.

When I greeted him, he said something like, "Hello," but it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. I wasn't sure what, so I tried to ask him what was up. He started crying, apologized, and then cleared his throat and started again. With a very shaky voice, he said they were at the ER, his son was sick with something, and that it was serious enough that they were going to transfer him to Doernbecher.

Something else strange about me. When people are emotional or distraught, except if they're angry, I remain calm. If they're angry, I probably get angry, too. So, when his voice kept catching and it was hard for him to get the words out I just told him to take a deep breath, no need to be sorry, this was a scary situation, and to start from the beginning. So, he calmed down a little and then related the story above.

One Of The Best

Doernbecher Children's Hospital is part of a large healthcare campus that basically starts down a hillside and works its way up. It's part of OHSU, Oregon Health & Science University, which is ranked as the 6th best hospital in the country. Unfortunately, when someone heads that direction, it's because whatever they're experiencing is usually pretty severe and a normal regional hospital isn't equipped to deal with it. I guess that goes double for children under two. This grandson is not yet eight months old.

However, since it is the best, you can be assured of the diagnosis, the treatment, and if all else fails, there actually may be some experimental treatments that can be done.

My son said that they had been pretty calm up until they were told about Doernbecher, then they lost it. I told him that, yeah, it meant it was serious, but it also meant that the best of the best were going to be involved.

Diagnosis Summary So Far

You'll recall that Urgent Care basically diagnosed nausea and sent them home. You'll also recall that the ER said it was probably some kind of intestinal bug, but that they weren't equipped to handle it. Apparently, the bloody stool spooked them, too.

More Breakdowns

So, mama and baby rode up in the ambulance while my son went home for a change of clothes. In the meantime, I went to go tell my wife. I knew this wasn't going to go well, and I had to keep my composure now to tell the story. I think I did. She started to weep immediately. I pretty much repeated to her what I told my oldest son, that it was too early to know what was wrong or what it might mean.

She in turn went and told my youngest son (he, his wife and two young children live with us), and started crying again. That brought the daughter-in-law out of their room and I had to explain it to them because my wife was incoherent.

The Waiting Game

Over the course of the next three to four hours, we waited for further word, for when my son would show up so we could drive up together, and did our best to get ready and be patient in the waiting. It ended up that his mother-in-law came with him to go up, too. While this particular grandson is our second, it's her and her husband's only grandchild to date.

Realizing that made me think about our own situation a little bit differently. While it didn't diminish the concern and the emotions, and we didn't want to lose a single grandchild, I figured it must be a lot worse for them.

Fortunately, we're not that far from the OHSU campus, so we got there in good time. We actually managed to get to the right floor in the right building, too, since it's very easy to get lost. When we got there, we found our daughter-in-law and our grandson along with hospital staff that were checking him and drawing more blood, etc. At that point, the poor kid must have felt like a pin cushion, because the ER had drawn blood, too.

Awesome Health Care In Action

We were told by the pediatrician team (yes, more than one person involved), that when the tests came back, it would be discussed and then there would be more information. About an hour later, they came back with the results. Nearly everything possible was fine. The red blood cells were good, no fever, heart rate, pulse, blood pressure, all good, with the white blood cells slightly raised but not alarmingly so. That seemed to take a bacterial or viral infection off the table, because an ultrasound was ordered.

That meant more waiting. It was after noon, when I was getting hungry, that the ultrasound tech showed up just as my wife and I were headed to the cafeteria. When we got back, we were in time to hear the results.

The Actual Diagnosis

Our grandson's small intestine was telescoping, we were told with absolute certainty. In other words, a bit of it had pushed inside of another bit and was causing a blockage.

To the far right: The small intestine. Middle: The intestine on intussusception. Don't get intussusception.

According to information online, only one to four out of 1,000 babies get this telescoping intestine or intussusception. If you've never heard of it, that might be why. The number of children two years old and under in the United States is roughly 2.5% of the total population. There's just north of 327 million people all told. So, the newborn to two group is around 8.175 million. So, 1,000 to 4,000 babies out of a million get it, or 8,175 to 32,700 out of the entire two and under population.

Things Start To Happen

Step One

With a true diagnosis, things started to move more quickly. About two o'clock, they took our grandson and his parents down to the radiology department where they would first try what is called an air enema. Basically, as crude as it sounds, they stick a tube through the anus and blow air into the small intestine to try to push the telescoped part out. In the majority of cases, that works.

Since our grandson was already defying the odds, why not a little more. We were told later that they attempted for about five minutes to blow the portion out but that it didn't budge. They consulted for a while and then tried again to no avail. That meant step two.

Step Two

Prep for surgery. The first option was to make an incision in the bellybutton and with a camera and some kind of tool, pull the intestine bits back to their proper state. A saline solution would go in to help bring down swelling first. If this didn't work, it would be on to step three, which would require snipping off some of the intestine and sowing it back together. That wasn't desired at all, but if left untreated, things could get a lot worse very quickly.

Just after 4 pm, they wheeled him down to the operating room. Our son and daughter-in-law stayed in a waiting area with a pager that was supposed to update them on what was happening. In the meantime, the three of us grandparents were left back in the room again. I spent more time wandering around. There's only so much sitting doing nothing I can do.

About an hour later, we got word relayed from our son that they had just started the procedure and that everything was looking good. Another half or so later we were told that things were moving along. A little after that, came the announcement that they were ready to close and that all had gone well. The small intestine was back to normal with no need to cut and suture.

A Feeling Of Relief

I've mentioned that when others are falling apart in front of me, I tend to do the opposite. Well, I pretty much felt calm throughout this entire time. Somehow, I felt like things were going to work out. I think it was mainly the way the hospital staff, from the pediatricians, to the surgical team, and everyone else in between, were communicating and exuding confidence, while explaining the risks.

It helped that the surgeon on call had 30 years of experience and had performed countless surgeries just like this one.

I think, though, that the clincher was the blessing I assisted my son with for his son. We belong to a church that very much believes in the laying on of hands for various things, including for the healing of the sick. It is often done in conjunction with medical treatments and surgeries instead of solely on its own. In some cases, that might actually be the case, where no medical care is available or imminent. In our case, we did it moments before our grandson went down to the OR.

Now, I don't know if things would have gone any differently. Probably not. However, I do believe it helped to bring peace to each one of us that our son and grandson were in good hands, and that he was being watched over. I actually wish we would have gotten to it sooner, but with so many people coming and going, there didn't seem to be an appropriate moment to do it. In the end, we gave the blessing while the OR nurse was wiping down the sides of the crib/bed/gurney our grandson had been sleeping in and transported to different places.

That Was Our Saturday

The surgery was done sometime during the six o'clock hour, but it took a while for our grandson to wake up from the anesthesia. It was closer to 8 pm when he finally made it back up to the room, still groggy, and very tired. The good news was, he was out of danger.

All told, we were at the hospital about nine and a half hours. Including the round trip, it was closer to 12 hours.

Now, the plan for Saturday had been go to Olive Garden and celebrate our youngest son's birthday, which had fallen earlier in the week. Obviously, that didn't happen. While our priority was to support our son, daughter-in-law and grandson, no way would I prefer something like this happen over dinner out. I haven't been to Olive Garden in over three years.

Words Cannot Express...

But I should thank everyone who was involved with my grandson's care, including the floor nurse who was there every day during the day while my grandson was there. I learned more about what was going on with my grandson in the hours we were there than I have with any other illness, injury or treatment for myself or any member of my family over the course of my lifetime. I think that's probably the highest compliment I can pay. I wish every health care facility was like that. Then, all of this could have started Friday afternoon, instead of finally getting to it Saturday afternoon.

At Least This Time Around...

I remained calm. I never felt he was in imminent danger, though it started getting harder to hold onto that sentiment the more we went along and the more that needed to be done. All I can say is, I'm glad it all worked out.

My grandson had to spend Sunday and part of today in the hospital, to make sure that the telescoping didn't reoccur (oh, yeah, it can happen again, though the possibility diminishes over 72 hours), but was discharged around 1 pm and has been home since. He apparently has his smile back, along with his appetite and his sleep routine. His stool is also getting back to normal.

I don't know if I know any more about myself than I did going in, other than, while I knew I didn't want to have to go through something like this, I can say with a certainty that I never want to go through it again, even if everything works out. Just better to avoid the whole thing in my opinion.

I know. Good luck with that.

_{Top image—courtesy of Glen Anthony Albrethsen. Second image from kidshealth.org}