First 24 hours post-op

Last night was rough, no lyin'. He spent most of the evening waking up, and drank quite a bit. The nurse spent her time adjusting his pain meds, trying to find him a regimen that would keep him comfortable but without too many narcotics. Even though drugs like morphine and oxycodone are great for pain relief, they have some hefty side effects.

Right around 11, when the nurses switched, the balance got skewed. The meds we used to try to replace his original morphine drip ended up not being strong enough, and we didn't find that out until the morphine wore off. So he woke up in pretty bad pain, squirming to try to get away from the chest tubes. So to control that, we gave him a quick dose of morphine again and turned the drip back up, but combined, that was a large enough dose to turn on the side effects.

Namely itchiness. He was pain-free but crawling out of his skin, trying to scratch everything at once. Every time he'd try to fall asleep, he'd wake up again itching. Eventually, the Benadryl we gave him started working, but between it and all the other meds he was on, it made him delirious. And it didn't work well to begin with. The itching continued. They ended up turning down the morphine again and replaced it with another narcotic called dilaudid, but once again, there was a gap between it and the morphine, so he woke up hurting again.

He didn't get a lick of sleep all night. His longest stretch was maybe half an hour. Finally, around four in the morning, I conceded defeat. There was nothing I could do to help. Singing to him didn't work anymore, and the only thing helping him was med changes, which isn't in my job description. I ended up walking back to the Ron-Don to catch a couple hours of sleep. I got about 2.5 hours there before we went back to the hospital to catch rounds.

He was still pretty itchy when we got there. His chin, which was one of the main points of itch, was red and raw, and his legs and abdomen were covered in little scabs where his nails drew blood. But aside from the itch, he was doing great! They pulled one of his chest tubes...the most painful one, thankfully, took out the central line in his neck and the art line in his wrist. He's down to just one IV left in his foot, for periodic meds (no drips right now, though). Oh, and they turned off his pacer this morning, since his heart seems to have figured out the right rhythm!

Everyone on rounds was very happy with how he was doing as well! His surgeon, who hasn't seen him since he was a 4-month-old, joked about him having grown into a teenager in the past year...they don't see too many almost-two-year-olds his size in there. After discussing med changes and the plan for the day, they told us we'd be moving to the floor today! It took until about 6:00 this evening for that to actually happen.

In the meantime, Mom got here...she's going to try to do some energy work on him to urge along his recovery...I took a three hour nap, Brandt took a few naps and spent some time playing in bed, and he ate a few crackers, which is a big deal!

Now, we're settled into our new room on the floor...we managed to get the bed by the window, and so far don't have a roommate (probably won't last for long!). Our to-do list to get discharged is shockingly short: keep his vital signs stable (no problem there at the moment), wet and dirty diapers (still waiting on the latter, thanks to all the morphine), and getting his chest tubes out! So, one day at a time, but that feels pretty doable at the moment!

Oh, and now that we're on the floor, visitors are much more welcome!