After breathing for several hours with only minimal help from the ventilator, Will was extubated at about noon today. I arrived at the CICU to a sea of shining faces who nearly prevented me from seeing my boy, with all of their cheer and glad-handing. To see him was to see the boy I met a week ago with only a clear tube stretched under his nose to provide a little oxygen. His dimpled chin was void of tape, and his mouth was free of any tubes. Heck, even his NG tube was removed. “My baby boy!,” I exclaimed, “you look great!” He had the most beautifully sutuored scar on his bare chest, and they had already removed one of his two intracardiac catheders.
I revelled in the progress for a few minutes before I pulled myself away to trade places with his mother. But by the time she came into the CICU a few minutes later, a team of people had gathered around the bed to re-intubate him. He was strong, it seems, but not strong enough. So after two hours on his own, they decided to put him back on the ventilator and give him some rest and some time to gain some strength.
We’re trying not to be disappointed, but how can we not? We know that there will be many more setbacks like this, but it is still difficult. Now, we’re hoping that he can take it easy for a while, eat some milk, gain some strength, and try again in a few days. Of course, strong boy that he is, he needs sedation to keep him from fighting against that ventilator.
Rest easy, dear Will.