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she was laying there not breathing on her own, she was still with me. She was spared. The tube was helping her breathe. They took both her and me to Detroit Children's hospital. I cried, “God please. Please, I can live with her having memory loss, but not complete loss”. She was unresponsive. The ER doctor told me, brain injury. The treatment was to put her on cooling blanket and an induced coma. After given a Fentanyl Drip, C Collar, MRI, CT scan, she was not breathing on her own. The cooling was to help prevent further brain damage inflammation.
She was kept on constant cool for over four days, then to be possibly extubated and taken off the breathing machine, She was not responding, to light, sound or touch. She was alive. Her glascow coma scale was five. My immediate thought as a mother was she was spared, but I did not know. My thought as a nurse was rely on God. I did not have any other options. I did not know. I knew my life now was hers, to watch her there, to know she was once a very healthy, happy ten year old. To appreciate her every move, as they took her off the machines to extubate, her left foot woke up first. Then her right foot, her left hand then her right hand, then to see her eyes open. I had felt her very thready pulse, to see her in respiratory arrest. I was scared out of my mind. God was my only solace. God had to endure His only Son dying on the cross. That was the worst to endure, to see your blood, your family, your life, your love out of your control with illness and sickness. Pain is something only God could help me work through. I did not know what to expect the outcome to be.
I watched the extubation. After five days on life support, my daughter was
breathing, not talking but breathing. Responsive with her eyes, kicking the bed. I walked in the room on day seven and knew there was something wrong, I heard stridor (a harsh vibrating noise when breathing,caused by an obstruction of the windpipe or larynx). Not just once but complete. I called for treatment with the team. They were forced to intubate again. I cried so hard. Here she was breathing on her own, then to force intubation again. What was to happen now? The diagnosis was vocal cord paralysis, brain injury, possible feeding tube, and possible trach. She would never possibly eat or speak again.
My heart. My girl. My life. My God please take this away from my baby. I played “Tasha Cobb” endlessly in the room. I played “healing Jesus music” everyday in the morning. I called on Jesus to perform His perfect healing. I called on Jesus to use His angels. I called on Jesus to force the demons out of the room. I called on Jesus daily to heal her, to heal me, to heal my husband.
She was extubated a second time. This time with plan in place, I wanted to know the exact problem in her neck. I wanted to know what decision to make. The surgeon was stating she needed to have a tracheostomy. I knew that meant 24