torture

On Monday I got to watch for an hour as my son was strapped down to a papoose board and the nurses tried, unsucessfully, for an hour, to get an IV started in him so they could do a renal scan. That pretty much sucked.

So we have to go back on Thursday, so they can try again. This time I'm taking him up to the NICU, so that they can use the vein-finding machine they use on the newborns on Sam. Then I'll take him back down to radiology, so they can inject him with radioactive dye and scan him. Weird as it sounds, please PRAY that they're able to inject my dear boy with radioactive dye on Thursday. We're hoping to have the IV in and the test started by 10 am. Please pray they can get the IV in the first time. I can't even describe how hideous it was to watch them, again and again, poke him with needles and blow out vein after little vein.

On the other hand, they couldn't use the NICU resources on Monday 'cause there was an emergency in the NICU. Which gives me some perspective. Awful as what we went through was, there were other folks in the hospital having a worse time then us.

I think one of them was the fellow next to us, who I talked to while we were waiting to see if there was anyone else willing to try to get an IV into Samuel. He told me that now he was more worried about Samuel than himself, even though he was headed into at least two tests just right then. I wonder if part of what we were there for was to provide a distraction for people who had more things to worry about than we did. When I think about it afterwards, I realized that I talked to a lot of people at the hospital, in the waiting room, even outside the hospital. And, I'm an introvert, it's not usually my style to have conversations with strangers. But I had at least four. Maybe we were helpful to some of them. I hope so. That helps me see a meaning in what was otherwise a horrific experience.

But the Lord knows. I can't figure it out. But He knows. I can never help remembering that He has a son too.

-Jess