I walked quickly but calmly into the hopsital Emergency Ward with Brendan in my arms. I didn't run in case I tripped or bumped into something and caused the added problem of injury. I had his anti-biotics in my bag over my shoulder, along with his medicare care, a couple
of spare nappies, a travel pack of baby wipes, a small amount of money, and my house keys. That was it, we needed nothing else. He was wheezing badly and having trouble staying conscious. I was holding him upright with his head high so I could hear him breathing, and to allow him to see around him and have to hold his own head up to encourage him to stay awake.
I walked straight up to the reception desk, passing a nurse and a doctor on my way. They didn't matter, hospitals have a triage system and procedures that must be followed. The woman at the desk had her back turned. There was a hardened perspex protective shield between us. I knocked firmly on the shield as if it was someone's front door to get her attention. As she turned around I turned Brendan to face her so she could see him clearly.
Before she could utter a word, I spoke. I gave her all the necessary information that she needed in a calm, clear, firm voice; and said nothing that couldn't be said later. This was necessary for her to understand the situation and make an informed judgement on how urgent the case was. Hello, good morning, please and thank you were not important at this time.
I said, "Nine month old boy, diagnosed bronchiolitis, stopped breathing four-o-five am, E.A.R. (Expired Air Resuscitation, the breathing aspect of CPR.) revived him, still cyanotic and having serious breathing difficulties." She knew his age, gender, condition, why he was there, the severity of it, how long ago it happened, and what treatment he had received prior to getting there. My serious manner and Brendan's pale face, exhaustion, and cyanosis said that I wasn't kidding. She pressed a button that I heard buzz out the back and she picked up the phone and passed on the details she needed to. I turned so that I had a full view of the room to see a doctor come through a door and head straight for us.
He pointed to a bed nearby as he crossed the room. I promptly placed Brendan on the bed and stood to the side to let the doctor examine him. As he did this, I repeated what I'd told the receptionist, and added that Brendan was on anti-biotics since Saturday night. I specified the brand, dose, and the last time he received a dose. I gave this information in the same brisk, calm and serious manner. He asked me two questions: When was he diagnosed? "10pm Saturday". What is his name? "Brendan". I could give him the details of his full name in a little while, he was just wanting a name to call him by for now. He picked Brendan up and just said, "Follow me." I did just that.
We went through to the ward, where the doctor stopped at the first spare bed available - off to the side of the main walk way. He told me to wait with Brendan and he quickly left. I held Brendan and took a few deep breaths to keep myself calm and get my racing mind and emotions under control. I took the anti-biotics bottle out of my bag and had it ready in my hand. About a minute later, though it seemed like an hour - time distorts like that when you are in a stressful situation, the doctor returned with an oxy viva. As he set it up, got it going and put the mask on Brendan's face, he calmly and gently started asking more questions. I calmly answered each one to the best of my knowledge, in a matter-of-fact steady fashion. Most of the questions were repeats of what I had already told him. He was just re-confirming it all and getting a little bit more detail. When he asked about medications I simply handed him the bottle and told him at what time Brendan had received the last dose.
A nurse came out and told the doctor the area was ready. We then went over to a little cubical, where Brendan was swamped with doctors and nurses. I stayed with him, kept him calm, and did my best to not get in the way. He was put on ventalin, oxygen, had blood taken, was given an injection, was hooked up to a drip, a heart monitor, and had his blood oxygen levels checked.
Then it was just a matter of waiting to see if there was any improvement. I asked if I should keep him awake or let him drift off to sleep if he was to do so. They asked me to try and keep him awake for the time being, but not to upset him in doing so. I sat with him and cuddled and comforted him. I could show no fear, no tears, no worry or concern at all. I had to be strong or I would worry and upset him and that would have made matters worse for both of us. Another staff member ran me through another list of questions, again, confirming the details I'd previously given. She wrote down my answers on a form.
Brendan was checked on by the staff every few minutes. Over the course of about half an hour they increased his oxygen and ventalin. After about 20 minutes a staff member sat with us indefinately. The staff were coming and going so much and so fast it made my head spin. Brendan started to dose off to sleep and I could not keep him awake any longer. The staff member that was with us hit a buzzer and did another blood oxygen level test. It showed a dramatic decrease. His heart rate was dropping as well. At that moment, 5 staff members appeared with the emergency cart. I didn't need to be told anything, I just moved completely out of the cubical and gave them their space. Brendan needed oxygen and he needed it fast. His heart rate was weakening and reaching a dangerously low level. They had him on the ventilator and had everything ready to perform C.P.R. Fortunately, the ventilation was sufficient. 15 minutes later he stabilized. The whole time I just stood outside the cubical breathing deep slow breaths and forcing myself to remain calm.
When the danger was passed I was able to go back to Brendan's side. He was asleep, but he was stable. I sat with him for several hours. During this time the his blood test results came back, confirming that he didn't have meningococcal. That was a relief to hear! The paperwork was filled out and the staff went about preparing his admission to the Children's Ward. They also wheeled him up for a chest ex-ray, which later showed that pneumonia was setting in. 'Not good, but hey, it's not meningococcal.' was the thought that kept me calm. A councellor came by and talked to me for a bit, making sure I understood everything that had happened, that was going to happen, and that I was dealing with it all okay. I was fine, all things considered. I just kept controlling my breathing, concentrating on the fact that I did everything right, that Brendan was still alive, and kept in mind that it could have all been worse but wasn't.
He was eventually taken to the Children's Ward. I went with him and once he was properly attended to and the situation became one of wait and observe, I took a break. He was asleep anyway. He was a belly sleeper by this age and had rolled himself over to sleep on his belly, so he was comfortable. I went outside and gathered my thoughts, and considered what was the next step I had to take. I then phoned my husband and told him what had happened, and that I was staying with Brendan. He arranged to come up to the hospital in a few hours with Aidan - who had awoken in the morning with a remarkable improvement - and I gave him a list of items I wanted him to bring to the hospital for us. I then went back to the Children's Ward, looked in on Brendan, and saw he was still asleep and peaceful. He hadn't woken up at all since falling asleep in the Emergency Ward, and his oxygen levels were still very low, but he was stable and breathing, and that's what mattered. I sat on the sofa next to his cot, cried, and fell asleep.
I recommend that all parents to a first aid course. Do 10 first aid courses! The more you learn, the more you will understand about what is happening during a medical emergency. This allows you to assess situations as they arise, know what needs to be done, and what not to do. It will also help you keep your cool and save you from a lot of anxiety, and it will also save you from having to ask a lot of questions.
Contact your local hospital administration and find out about their emergency ward procedures and policies. This will help you understand their triage system, what goes on, and why things have to be done the way they are. It will also save you a lot of confusion and frustration when you can understand why patients are seen to in the order that they are, and why some people may be left sitting in the waiting room for hours on end.
If you have to take anyone to emergency, stay calm, talk briefly and to the point. Greetings and social manners are not necessary in a genuine emergency, but there is no need to be rude either. Give the information that is necessary for the staff to properly assess your situation and nothing more. The rest can be said later. Learn what is important and what isn't. All good first aid courses should cover this information. Everyone at a hospital emergency ward has a difficult and stressful job to do, and all those jobs revolve around one priority: saving lives. You need to stay out of their way and let them do their job. Never panic and do all you can to stay calm and in control of yourself. You can fall apart later on when the emergency is over and the time is right.
(August 2007) (
