Friday, April 9, 2010

THE BEGINNING





"Everything is not OK, your daughter is in trouble". My doctor turns and hands the baby to the pediatrician who lays her under the light to check her out. He finds that her coloring is almost black from lack of oxygen and she isn't breathing. Her heart is beating so he quickly incubates her and turns the oxygen level up to 100% and giving her 100% breaths. I take a deep breath as he turns to us and says, "she's alive".

I remember feeling, with all of my heart, it's OK. My blood pressure dropped to normal and the surgery was completed.


I awoke during the night and it was dark and cold and quiet. I rang for the nurse and asked her for a warm blanket. I also asked her if she new anything about my daughter. She shook her head and looked down at the floor and said, "no, I don't" I believe she was taken to the University of Utah's Medical Center. Then she left the room. I was alone again, I can't stand to be alone, but there I was. So I bowed my head in prayer and asked for comfort and warmth, I asked for my daughter to be made well, and for my other children to be taken care of. And through tears I asked that John would be able to find some answers.

At the very moment I was praying for John to be able to find answers, my prayer was being fulfilled. John was finding answers. He had followed Casey to the University of Utah Medical Center (U of U) and was in contact with one of the residents on duty that night. The doctor told John that Casey had a connection between her esophagus and her trachea (a TE Fistula) and that the connection was causing a breathing problem and a swallowing problem. The doctor said that it would be a fairly routine operation, but that the doctors at Primary Children's Hospital would be the ones to perform the surgery. Casey was stable, but would be moved to Primary that night for surgery in the morning.

This is not the first time I've given birth to a baby, and for that I am very grateful. It helps to be familiar with the drill. There was a difference in hospitals though. This one was not nearly as comfortable or friendly as the other one I was in. I was left alone, allot! That made me feel bad. I got out of bed the next morning and put my robe on, opened my door and went for a slow walk around the station there. Babies had been brought out of the nursery to go to there mothers. One baby was crying because he was laying on his Binky. I bent over and pulled it out just as a nurse came by. She told me that I was not to touch the babies and to get away. I went back to my room and shut the door and had myself a good cry. I never went out for a walk again. A couple hours later a nurse came in and handed me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. She said that I could call the intensive care unit at Primary Children's Hospital and talk to them about my daughter. I was very grateful for that number and I held it very close. I had to stay in the hospital for 7 days and I new it was going to be a long week, especially with no one to talk to. The nurses didn't come in unless they absolutely had too, and then they don't talk. I don't even recall my doctor making his daily rounds to me. Ya know, he didn't have anything to say to me during the delivery or after. Maybe he has a problem! Well, I thought, I'm the patient and I have a problem and I need to talk to someone. My husband was very busy working and taking care of our other two children when he was home, and trying to go visit our baby at Primary Children's, so there wasn't much time for me.

Well before I really started feeling sorry for myself, I looked at the paper with the number on it. I called the number, a sweet voice answered, I ask, could I speak with someone about a new patient, Casey Collete Geilmann? Silence for awhile, then I heard a happy, strong voice say, "this is Gene, may I help you"? I broke down in tears, and said, "my name is Cindy Geilmann, my baby was just taken there, her name is Casey Geilmann, can you tell me anything about her? I didn't know this then, but Gene would become my, "Angle in Waiting".

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful, Pootsie! Keep up the good work!

    Love, Mom

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