I do remember that G was in a fantastic mood and other than being overly tired. In fact, he was feeling so decent that we stopped at IKEA on the way home and bought him a new big-boy bed. After a quick, albeit late, lunch of chicken nuggets, fries and apple slices, we were on our way home. I felt so overjoyed that yet another hospital visit and surgery was behind us and that this is what it felt like to have a successful, non-complicated surgery. It was such a difference from open-heart surgery, which sounds obvious but until you've lived it, you don't really get it.
We got home around 3:00pm, I think, and decided that it was probably a good idea for everyone to take a nap. And this is when things got messy.
We awoke to the sound of G crying. Given the fact that he'd just had major surgery, we didn't think anything of it. I brought him downstairs and after a while, it became obvious that he was more than just uncomfortable, so I gave him some Advil and we soothed him on the couch and tried our best to distract him. Sure enough, he calmed down about 45 minutes later. I didn't want him to take the Advil on an empty stomach, so I made him eat some yogurt before the Advil. He refused it at first, but I was able to coax him into it. At around 7:00pm, he stood up to walk to the kitchen where I was standing and I saw the look on his face. I'm never sure if it's mother's intuition or a look of pure panic in the eyes or what, but I knew what was coming: puke. And it did. He threw up and didn't stop. We thought it was just the yogurt, so we cleaned him up, chalked it up to silly parenting and tucked him in for the night. An hour later, I could hear him whimpering "Mommy... Momma..." and I ran upstairs to find him and his bed covered in vomit. We reasoned that he probably was still reacting to the anesthesia, so we cleaned him up and tucked him in again. An hour later, we replayed the previous scene. This time, though, he made it to the bathroom and then began to be sick with real gusto. The poor kid had nothing left in his stomach and when the dry heaving started, I called the hospital.
After talking to a few different doctors on call, we were told to bring him back to BCH immediately. And, almost on cue, G started vomiting blood. It was 10:30pm at night and we rushed around, packing him up into the car with a bowl, some towels and I drove the 45 minutes back to Boston. Alone. Pulling over every 10 minutes to help my three-year-old vomit blood. You want to feel alone? Try this some time. Or rather don't. It's not fun, trust me.
G and I finally made it to BCH at around 11:55pm and rushed into the ER. He was so lethargic at this point, he could barely open his eyes. There were a few nurses standing around when we walked in, but as soon as they saw me, they ran over, ushered G and me onto a chair and began working on him. After the initial intake paperwork, they found a room for us and the ER waiting game began. G alternated between vomiting more blood and sleeping. The doctor would come in, test the vomit, check him out, ask me some questions, and then leave to go order more tests. This went on for six hours. Six long, long hours...
Now, at this point, I will admit I think I started to crack. I had been awake for almost 26 hours straight, except for a 30 minute cat-nap at home. I was running on fumes and wanted nothing more than sleep. The doctors finally decided to leave it up to me on whether or not we should be admitted back into the hospital, but given that G was still vomiting blood and it had taken two doses of IV meds to get him to stop and they still had no real clear idea of what was causing all this, I gladly elected to call BCH our home for the night. Around six in the morning, they got a room ready and G and I passed out for a few hours.
In the end, the drama seems to have been caused by the stent being removed and causing the kidney to swell, cutting off the kidneys function temporarily. He was hospitalized for two days and after ensuring that his kidneys were functioning normally and getting the vomiting under control, we were released and sent on our merry way.
Who says kidneys aren't exciting?
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