A PICU bedside…

Today was the first day I actually cried and it was because she opened her eyes. Day 10 in hospital and they’ve reduced her sedation so that she can try & cough a bit to help loosen the secretions in her chest in a way physio just can’t. I know she’s sedated and on medications that most drug addicts would love to get their hands on but when she looked at me she was soundlessly crying and trying to move. Not easy to do when you’re on a ventilator.


I know we’ve been here before, ventilator keeping her breathing but this time it’s harder. This time she’s not a little baby that doesn’t know any better and simply accepts a breathing tube. This time she’s a little person who doesn’t understand why she’s all foggy, or why a machine is helping her to breathe and most of all – she doesn’t understand why when she reaches out her mummy can’t cwtch her.


Last Monday, almost 2 years to the day since Gwendolyn was discharged from the Neonatal unit – she was being rushed to A&E with difficulties with her breathing. Rapidly admitted to one of the wards and placed on oxygen, we thought that they’d caught the chest infection in time preventing the pneumonia. Then not long after, the two words dreaded by preemie parents – RSV positive. Another 48 hours would see us in the PICU as her oxygen need increased & increased. Yesterday I allowed myself to hope we’d started to turn a corner as she seemed more stable and her secondary chest infection had cleared but now a partially collapsed lung is causing problems with her oxygenation as well and as I write this they’re trying something else to help the lung.


I never thought I’d say it but thankfully they’re sedating her more so that she stays asleep for this – as I can’t face her looking at me like that again with her eyes so hazy but sad. In the meantime.. back to sitting by her bed. I’ve even tried to learn to knit this time to pass the time!

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