Adam's Heart - Part 2

This is Mark writing now. Sorry Adam, but I’m going to switch to writing about you in the third person. You’re going to get lots of things written to you in your baby book, including reflections on this amazing story.

 After a short time in the triage room, we were brought to an exam room. Adam was placed in a medical bassinet with a heater on top, and shortly after that, LOTS of stuff started happening. Many attempts were made to read his blood pressure – both arms, both legs – and very few were successful. His temperature was taken both under the arm in rectally. An earlier reading from triage showed a frighteningly low temperature that was likely an errant reading. His body temperature was fine at this point. While in the exam room, three different big machines rolled in. First was an X-ray machine – pretty quick and painless. Next was an EKG machine. This measures the heart’s electrical rhythm. It’s not painful, except for when they pull off the dozen or so adhesive pads from your chest. Next was an echocardiogram machine – back to that in a moment.

During these processes, many different people came to visit with us. I always imagined an ER visit would include one nurse and a doctor, but it seemed like five different nurses came in,  the different technicians for Xrays and EKG, and several cardiologists. Texas Children’s Hospital is a teaching hospital, and during this diagnostic phase of our visit the fellows were going to school on you. (For those of you unfamiliar with “Fellows,” as I was, they are doctors who have finished med school, residency, and are now in the final stage of learning their specialty before they become “attending cardiologists.”) From triage to the CVICU, I think we answered the standard questions about family history, recent history, and current symptoms about five or six times.

As everything was happening in the exam room, it was hard to keep Adam from fussing. We had been diligent about abstaining from pacifiers until breastfeeding was really well established. But as the need became clear, we happily gave in and he gobbled up the green Soothie that hospitals have. The pacifier would prove to be a good friend in the coming weeks. At one point, the cardiologists mentioned they were worried about infection. They would draw some blood and may perform a spinal tap. We were still thinking there was a good chance that these symptoms were just anomalies, and we would be sent home. The idea of a spinal tap, “just to be sure,” seemed really excessive, and Katherine was questioning her decision to visit the pediatrician originally. Emotions were starting to run high again.  Pretty soon, they wheeled in the echocardiogram machine, and two cardiology fellows got to work, explaining this would take about two hours. For those unfamiliar, echocardiogram is an ultrasound very similar to what they use during pregnancy. The wand is a little smaller, and they have amazing capabilities to measure all sorts of things as well as look at blood flow in different parts of the heart and body. After an hour or so, the attending cardiologist came in, talked to us for a bit, then spent some time working with the fellows on the echo. During the whole procedure, we were either next to Adam or seated nearby, but couldn’t understand any of what they were talking about.

 
Then came the news. The attending cardiologist, Dr. Morris, stepped away from the machine and told us pointedly, “He’s going to need heart surgery.”

To be continued...