Captain Snuggles is still bleeding. It’s been non-stop most of the day. They’ve given 2 more units of platelets and another 1/2 unit of blood is on it’s way. His hemoglobin after last night’s transfusion was 10.1, right now it’s 8.2.
I have a knot in my stomach that won’t go away. I’ve sat and watched the blood drain out all damn day long. I want to hold him so bad, my arms ache.
It’s only 10pm. The night is still young for the devastation I know lies ahead. They ‘clamp’ the NG tube anytime they need to put meds down it. So at 9pm they clamp it for his prograf. By 9:30 he’s vomited blood. He’s losing blood faster than last night. Faster than they can transfuse. He’s gotten his 1/2 unit of blood. Another unit has been ordered. It’s now midnight.
Midnight means it’s the Captain’s 8 month birthday. 1-11-11. Not a very auspicious day for him. We’re one week shy of spending five full months here. He has spent more time in this hospital than he has at home. That makes me immensely sad. Immensely sad, indeed.
This day was meant to be full of laughter and light, instead he has blood and pain. Darkness and confusion. I feel hollow, my life force drains away as he bleeds. There’s not much more they can do for the bleeding except support him. He’s on his 7th blood transfusion in just a few days. They’re talking about starting a platelet drip and he will receive more ‘cyro’ today.
I’m at a loss.
The PICU Attending came, after being off service for a month and announced that her and her predecessor agreed I was a saint.
I laughed. I am not a saint. I’m just a mama. A mama that’s going to miss her Capt Snuggles something fierce.