Saturday, January 31, 2009

emergancy rush to the hospital.

This morning Joe woke up with a bad cough. By 11am I was rushing him into hospital because he couldn’t breathe. We were the only ones in A & E, which is kind of weird but I think God’s favour. He was put onto a nebulizer to see if that would help him with his breathing, after being on there for 20 mins he seemed to be doing much better, but the doctor was still not happy with how his chest sounded so she sent him for an x-ray.
The x-ray showed that he has a very bad infection in his left lung and a slight infection in his right. They decided to admit him and so begin the ordeals of public wards!!

We are in a small room with 3 other children and 2 mothers, all are Zulu, I am the only whitey here and don’t I know it! The fact that I am white and my child is black is also a matter that is drawing many whispers and stares, what they don’t know is that I understand what they say!
“Who is she? Maybe he is the maid’s child.”
“Whose mother is that?”
“Mama why does he have a white mama?”
None of the questions are answered, just many hushed “shushes” are said.
The Paediatrician came by to check him and tells me that my son is in respiratory distress, come on Doctor tell it how it is.......he can’t breathe!!! My baby can’t breath!
At his point he tells me not to be concerned....ha you have to be kidding me, my child cannot breath and you tell me not to you know what you are telling me? You are telling me to go against everything that I am as a mother, my maternal instinct is to be concerned about my children, he can’t can I not be concerned?

What is the best thing to do in this situation??? Have a good cry and then pray...I know, I know...if I was a “good” Christian I would pray 1st...But hey I’m human and I’m a mum and I am an emotional person, crying helps. At least in this case it did. After my cry and prayer in the toilet I looked at the situation in a different light. I called Mart who was home looking after Jesse and I told him about my moment of weakness and my full on melt down. To which he responded.....every moment that Joe is in hospital is a moment that he is working on getting better.
Good point. (I knew I married him for a good reason!)
So the doc left me and my hardly breathing son and went off to continue his rounds. Joe was whisked off to have an IV put in his arm and I had to sit and wait in the ward by myself. About 20 minutes passed and then the unbearable, I hear my child screaming and there is nothing I can do. They refuse to let me into the room where they are sticking my child trying to find a vein, telling me that my presence will make him more hysterical....I didn’t even think that it was possible for him to be any more hysterical but I didn’t say this...they are the professionals after all....right???
Finally my child is returned to me and is put into his bed. IV in, nebulizer on, mum on verge of another breakdown.....Rock on!
Joe is so tired at this point he drifts off to sleep only to be woken a few moments later by the “OUT OF CONTROL” children on the ward. The kids are all running around screaming and shouting, I’m convinced they are not really sick! What are their mothers doing at this point? NOTHING!
No that’s a lie, they were doing something, they were watching TV, while listening to the radio and talking very loud all at the same time. My poor, not breathing very well, baby wants to sleep and he can’t because of the chaos of this room. I decided to take matters into my own hands and went directly to the Sister in charge and asked her if we needed to TV as loud as it was and if we needed the radio on at the same time as the TV? Also are the kids just aloud to run riot while the SICK kids tried to sleep but cant because the “Little bit sick kids” are allowed to act like little maniacs? The answer to all these questions was “its a public ward”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I got a little ticked off at this point and decided that was not a good enough excuse and I proceed to ask her, was she not here for the wellbeing of sick children? “Yes” Was it not her responsibility to make sure that the children are well cared for and helped in their recovery? “Yes” Then please help my child get well and deal with the situation that is making him worse by not letting him sleep.
At that she came in and turned the TV down, turned the radio off and sent the awake crazy children to the playroom where they could play to their hearts content. Thank you lady, now my child can sleep!

He managed to sleep for about 1 hour before dinner came and Warrick and Michelle came in to visit and bring me edible food. We were then awake for a while, 2 nebulizers and loads of meds later the TV was turned off, the lights turned down and the children began to settle. The other mothers fell asleep right away and the wonderful melody of snoring began! I lay on my mattress next to Joe’s bed and chuckled to myself.....will this place ever be quiet enough for me to find sleep?
Answer...NO!!! As the snoring died down the farting began! Yes I said farting, passing Gas, trumping, call it what you will but it began and didn’t stop for a good 5 mins! Here I am lying on a mattress that God only knows how many people have slept on before me, its crazy hot as the AC is not working and I am listening to the gas expelling its self from a grossly overweight Zulu Mama. To be honest I laughed so hard that I had to stuff my pillow into my mouth so as not to wake people. Now I know you might think that it’s pretty juvenile of me to be laughing at such things but I was so tired at this point that I was feeling pretty delirious.
I drifted off to sleep about 1am to then be rudely awaken by the nurse coming in to put Joe’s nebulizer back on, this happened every hour throughout the night, FANTASTIC! But at least I know he was getting what he needed when he needed it. At 2:36am a new child was bought into the ward he cried and cried my heart broke for him. There was nothing his mother could to comfort and I could feel her pain. It took so long for him to finally fall asleep, and when it was quiet I could hear his mother quietly sobbing. I lay in my bed praying for her and her son.
Needless to say this morning i am exhausted and in need of a hot shower and a nap. Thankfully Martin is on his way to relieve me.
So I sit and wait....for the doctor, for Martin and for Joe to get well.


lindsey said...

Nothing wrong with his thighs though!! xx

Ferdi said...

Hey! You're doing great. Praying for Joe, and for you - praying that you won't sent somebody into the hospital... oh... never mind...

Anonymous said...

hang in there martin and vashti and all will be well with gods love and caring :)

an irish blessing

catherine xo

Shannon said...

What an experience!! I hope he is on the mend! I'll be praying for him....and you! :)

Sweet Annabelle said...

Hi! I read your blog and couldn't resist commenting on your experience. I also sat outside the "stick" room and listened to my son go hysterical when hospital staff were trying to insert an IV in his itty-bitty arm! Not a more helpless feeling in the world! But God is good, and He shows Himself strong in the situations in which we are the weakest, doesn't He!? We're praying for your son!

Maggie May said...

i just saw this, i'm so sorry and so glad he is now ok and home.

AndreaLeigh said...

i'm so late in responding. i am sorry i did not come by last week because you would have had my prayers. i am so glad your baby is doing better.

stephanie garcia said...

Oh, I know this is an awful experience. Our son was hospitalized twice for breathing distress last year. (

Yet our hospital experience can't compare with yours! I'm so glad he is better now and hope that he will stay well. You have two adorable boys!!