Nightmarish

Today began as many of our Tuesdays do lately.  We arrived at the clinic early in the morning for a lumbar puncture, also called a spinal tap.  His spinal fluid will be tested for leukemia cells, and he was given a dose of intrathecal chemotherapy.  Here is Tate in the procedure room before he was put under general anesthesia.  Note the lucky avocado socks.  He has worn them for every LP; Greg and I refuse to leave the house without them even though Tate seems to be over it.

20 minutes after they began the LP, a nurse poked her head into the waiting room to tell us the procedure was complete and he was asleep in recovery.  I am always a nervous, twitchy wreck when Tate is under general anesthesia and flooded with relief when he comes out of it.  (Hooray, lucky avocado socks!)

Once Tate had recovered sufficiently from the LP, he was moved to Infusion Room 1.  This room is uncomfortable for Tate at times because there is a ceiling light that cannot be turned off.  Greg and I have searched the room for the light switch as have the nurses and techs that have treated Tate.  There is no way to turn it off!  As such, Tate often shields himself from the light with a blanket.

Moments after this picture was taken, Tate moved his arm in a way that pulled the blanket away from his face.  I told Greg that Tate was turning red and asked Tate if he was okay.  Tate lifted his head off the pillow and said, “Something’s not right.”  Greg raced out of the room and returned almost immediately with what seemed like an army of women.  Tate was having a severe allergic reaction to one of the drugs and had gone into anaphylactic shock.  Greg and I stood and watched as Angela, the Nurse Practitioner that sees Tate regularly, took the lead while three other people did exactly as she ordered.  They worked quickly, competently, and calmly and saved him.

Tate’s nurse Michelle said it was lucky we caught it so soon.  Only 5ml of the drug got into his system before they were able to stop the pump.  Thanks to Gramps and Google, I now know 5ml is approximately 100 drops.  He was supposed to get an entire bag!  I don’t want to think about what could have happened if Greg hadn’t found the people Tate needed so quickly.  I’m glad I don’t have to.

Scott spent his 19th birthday skipping a class and racing to the clinic to support his brother.

After two hours of observation, the danger had passed, and the Nurse Practitioner was comfortable sending Tate home.  He feels terrible.  His eyelids and lips are really puffy, and he was given enough Benadryl to down a bear.  But his breathing is fine, and he ate a really big lunch with no problem.

We will be forever grateful to Angela, Michelle, Mindy, and McKenzie for the level of care they provided our son today.  His life was in their hands, and they saved him.