The Fever that Changed the Journey Part Four: The Dreaded CT
Next on the list was a CT-scan. What an ordeal that is. The nurse came in the room with two, monster size cups of water laced with dye to slowly administer via Rhyse’s gtube. I sucked the fluid up into one of my 60 ml syringes and ml by ml pushed each cup of water into his stomach, over the course of two hours. At 7pm he was finally eligible for the scan, but no one came to get us. After nearly an hour we were still waiting. If I had the energy I would have tracked down a nurse and inquired. But I was too tired, and didn’t want to leave Rhyse alone on a gurney with side rails so large his entire body could roll through! Finally a nurse came in saying he over-heard someone on the phone discussing Rhyse’s CT. Apparently the problem was IV number 8, the scalp IV. Up to this point no one had experience administering the CT-scan dye into a scalp vein: they didn’t know if there would a negative reaction or not. I didn’t even know there was going to be more dye in the first place. Doctor patient communication in hospitals is rarely up to par. To complicate matters no one wanted to be personally responsible for the dye push if the dye caused Rhyse’s skin to burn. I assured Mr. Nurse that I would not blame anyone if there was a skin reaction. Rhyse’s immediate health was more important than suing a hospital over a skin irritation. Fortunately he took the cue and volunteered to do the push. I was more interested in getting the CT scan of his belly than fearing what might be.
When we finally arrived in the CT room it was late evening. We had been in the ER for several hours and I was wishing we were already in Observation where I could cuddle with Rhyse and try and get some much craved for sleep. Having been assured the CT was a quick and painless process I looked forward to getting it done and getting the results.
But easy was not to be. As Mr. Nurse was flushing the dye into the right side of Rhyse’s head it began to balloon. Sure enough, the vein—the eighth attempt—blew. Thankfully the tech realized the situation wasn’t going to get any easier. He told me to hold Rhyse’s arms up while he moved him in and out of the machine, and we will get what we get! Thankfully the scan was successful.
At this point Rhyse was so exhausted he was nearly limp in my arms. His eye lids were lobster red from lack of sleep, and his body pale from trauma. He needed sleep. I needed sleep. Somewhere along the line he passed out on my lap while I stared at those pastel colored curtains that covered the glass sliding door to the room.
While we were waiting the test results all the shifts had changed, giving us new nurses and a new doctor. With the shift change came more vitals, more questions, and more and more waiting. The closer the night drew towards midnight the louder and more crazy the ER became: it’s a zoo in the middle of the night!
Seven hours after arriving to the ER the night shift doctor came in and greeted us. I was beyond the point of being able to process anything and just needed peace and quiet to smooth out my nerves, and allow Rhyse some undisturbed rest.I was not prepared for what the doctor had to say.
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