STRUGGLING WITH SERENDIPITY
  • Home
  • About
  • Blog
  • Contact
  • Events
  • Photos
  • Press and News
  • Resources

the upside of pneumonia

9/28/2016

4 Comments

 
Picture
(This blog tells my family's story. To see more, click "blog" at the top of this webpage.)
​

Beth’s first health crisis arrived suddenly on a brittle January morning, about eight months after her injury. The nurse at our pediatrician’s office took one look at her and led the way to the doctor. After chest x-rays at the hospital, we waited while they called our pediatrician. He told me on the phone that Beth had pneumonia and I interrupted his plan to admit her to the Tiffin hospital. With his consent, I immediately called Dr. Miller, who sent us to Toledo. I focused on the icy roads to keep my breathing steady.
 
Admitted to intensive care at the Toledo Hospital, Beth had never been so sick before. Her childhood asthma returned stronger than it had ever been. Extreme, relentless, uncomfortable symptoms alarmed us. Every labored breath ended in a wheeze. Her weak cough could not clear her partially paralyzed lungs. Her fever spiked too high repeatedly despite strong IV medicine. Her blood pressure, consistently low since the injury, fluctuated.
 
With breathing treatments around the clock, a team of lung doctors for children closely supervised Beth’s care during the days. At night, a nurse checked on her frequently and called a doctor more than once to increase medication or add another.
 
Four bad days and nights melted together with no improvement and little rest.

​I fixed pillows, offered fluids, and held Beth’s hand, unnerved at how little I could do to help. A nurse carried a few get-well flower bouquets out of the room to remove possible allergens. A doctor talked about surgery to dislodge the mass in a lower lung. He also showed me how to do physiotherapy by pounding her chest and back with a cupped hand.
 
On the fifth day, Beth could breathe a bit easier, and asked to look at her pile of schoolwork for the first time that week. The sixth day, a technician in a gown and mask wheeled in a portable x-ray machine, which showed a smaller pocket of pneumonia. A PICC line for IV antibiotics was scheduled before discharge on the seventh day.
 
An intern started to thread a tiny tube through a vein in my daughter’s right arm to her heart—with no pain medication first. Beth’s left hand suddenly touched mine, her eyes wide. With limited sensation in her arm, the pain had to be significant. When I questioned the intern, she said the procedure was almost over. I hugged half of Beth through TEN more minutes while she wiped away silent tears with her left hand.
 
Our first evening back home, a nurse arrived to connect the IV antibiotics to the PICC line, and left before it finished draining. Beth’s upper right arm swelled, hot and red. I called Dr. Miller in a panic and couldn’t stop myself from crying on the phone. She told me to disconnect the IV. If the swelling went down, we should drive to the hospital in the morning to have the PICC line taken out. If it didn’t, Beth would need an emergency room that night.
 
I turned on the nebulizer for another breathing treatment, and lay down on the hospital bed beside Beth, hugging the arm with the PICC line. I checked her arm through the night. Would she be admitted to the hospital again? Would the leaking vein cause other problems? Would her lungs clear without IV antibiotics?
 
Dr. Miller met us in Toledo on a Saturday morning to take out the line and prescribe strong oral antibiotics. I apologized for my emotional phone call the night before. I asked her how to avoid respiratory problems in the future, a futile attempt to ease my relentless anxiety. I scheduled a follow-up appointment with the lung doctors, the first of many. Beth found an upside to the scary week in intensive care.
 
“I tired easily and fought infections and a bout of pneumonia the first year after my injury, but through it I learned how to take care of myself and reduce health risks.”

4 Comments
Chuck Gregoire
9/29/2016 07:14:25 pm

Boy that was scary. I have asthma and I watched my Mother die last Christmas from Emphysema. She basically drowned with fluids in her lungs. So I can Really appreciate just how serious that episode was.

I have really grown to care about you and your daughter. That is a testament to your writing.

Thanks for sharing.
Chuck

Reply
Cindy Kolbe
9/29/2016 08:22:52 pm

Hi, Chuck. Yes, it is scary, as you know very well! Breathing is such an elemental need. I'm so sorry about your mother! I'm grateful that the severity of Beth's pneumonia the year after her injury has not been repeated since. Lots to be thankful for! ❤️

Reply
Paula Bartlett
10/1/2016 07:17:29 am

Wow Cindy, my stomach churned and I felt nervous as I read this edition, even though I knew the outcome. Lol. Says a lot about your writing. But mostly I think it says something about being a mother...

Reply
Cindy Kolbe link
10/1/2016 10:03:33 am

Thank you, Paula. Yes, I agree: being a mom is an experience unlike any other. Right before I posted this blog entry, I deleted a sentence about wishing I could take Beth's place; it's understood that we would do anything for our children. <3

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Cindy Kolbe

    Sign up for my Just Keep Swimming Newsletter by typing your email address in the box. Thanks!

    * indicates required

    Categories

    All
    Accident
    Adventure
    Anxiety
    Career
    Caregiving
    Chronic Pain
    College
    Counseling
    Depression
    Driving
    Fear
    Floating
    Friends
    Goals
    Graduation
    Gratitude
    Grief
    Group Home
    Guilt
    Harvard
    High School
    High School Swim Team
    Holidays
    Independence
    Injury
    Intensive Care
    Internship
    Job
    Moving
    Occupational Therapy
    Optimism
    Paralympics
    Paralympic Swim Team
    Perspective
    Physical Therapy
    Published Articles
    Rehab
    Road Trip
    Serendipity
    Spinal Cord Injury
    Sports
    Stanford
    Support
    Surgery
    Swim Club Team
    Swim Meet
    Swimming
    Travels
    Video
    Volunteering
    Writing

    Picture

    Archives

    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    July 2020
    May 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016

    RSS Feed

    Picture

    Picture

    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture

    Picture
Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.
  • Home
  • About
  • Blog
  • Contact
  • Events
  • Photos
  • Press and News
  • Resources