Intussusception: Part I

Knowing what we know now, it all makes sense. Knowing what it was we could have easily pieced the clues together and acted accordingly.

His case was textbook. The symptoms lined up exactly.

But who has ever heard of an intussusception? Who could have known that this unfamiliar word would become a moment of history in our family?

It was a busy evening for us. We had a parent teacher conference for William at 4:30pm. Taking the entire family was a must, as we both wanted to speak with the teacher about some concerns we've had. When the 10 minute conference stretched to an hour we knew that Little Caesars needed to be on the menu that night. Our kids were energetic and loud as we drove to get the pizza. Our patience was thin because we were concerned with the topics discussed at the conference. Once we got home nobody's temperaments changed and dinner was less than enjoyable, to say the least. While we begged the kids to "just sit down and eat", Samuel gnawed on a piece of Crazy Bread. Once I finished eating and we managed to convince the kids, with much kicking and screaming, that they really did have to take baths/showers, I prepared a bowl of pureed peas for the little guy. 

In mid-bite Samuel started screaming in pain. We wrestled with his tray and buckle as  Brandon and I both scrambled to get him out of his seat, thinking maybe he was choking or had bit his tongue. He cried so hard he made his nose bleed. It terrified all of us. William was so scared that he puked. After getting out him out of the chair Samuel settled down and we shooed the kids off to the bathrooms. 

Brandon took Samuel from my arms to bathe him as I continued to straighten up the kitchen. I could hear him screaming back in the bathroom and headed back to see what was going on. There was Samuel, wrapped in a towel, in Brandon's arms. He explained that Samuel wouldn't even let him sit him down in the water so he washed him up quickly and that was that.

"He must be tired. When I laid him on the floor in our room to start the bath he almost fell asleep."

I laid him down on the floor in his room and started to dry him off. Something wasn't right. His face was pale, even his lips and he could barely keep his eyes open. I dressed him and picked him up and his head flopped on my shoulders.

"We need to take him to the hospital," I thought. I fought the idea and decided to try nursing him instead. He was probably just overly tired. Nursing him always soothed him. It didn't work. As I tried to get him to latch he just cried and cried. Then he went limp again.

"Brandon, he won't nurse. I think I need to take him to the hospital."

I scurried about gathering my keys even as I held his pale body in my arms. Another crying fit and then lethargic once again.

I started to rush to the car and couldn't do it. I couldn't take my eyes off him. What if he stopped breathing? What was wrong? What was happening to my baby?!

"I can't take him alone. I'm too scared. Should I call a neighbor? Jill? My visiting teacher? What's her number? I can't think straight. Who can we get to watch the kids?"

"Get the kids in the car. Let's just go."

We threw PJs on everybody, I don't even know if any of them had shoes, and got in the van. I squeezed between the middle bucket seats and talked to Samuel as we drove, desperate for him to acknowledge me, to make eye contact, to smile. The kids were obviously and understandably terrified. I asked William to say a prayer as we drove.

Once arriving at Davis Regional, Brandon dropped me off at the emergency room doors. I went in with Samuel while he parked. I spouted off to the guy at the desk what was going on. He began filling in the paperwork and asking me the obligatory questions. I almost laughed out loud, despite my fear and concern, when he asked, "So, what would you say is your primary concern tonight?"

I didn't have any idea why I was there. I knew that I was prompted to be there. I knew I was undeniably concerned for my son, but I had no idea what was happening or what could possibly be wrong.

I muttered something about him being lethargic and pale and they motioned me to take him back to begin triage.