Children's National Medical Center...Thank you!
This last weekend was supposed to be a celebration of my brother's graduation from law school in Washington, DC. It turned out to be something much different.
We had dinner with my brothers, dad and step mom on Friday night. During dinner, my son complained of a stomach ache. We finally got him back to the hotel where he spent the next few hours in the bathroom.
The next morning, he said he felt better than the night before, but he still didn't want to eat. He didn't have a fever and he seemed in good spirits so we set out for the zoo. During the ride through Washington, DC (which I must say has terrible roads!), my son said his stomach bothered him again whenever there was a bump. We figured when we got him out in the fresh air that it would clear up. But at the giant panda exhibit, he sat down and said he needed to rest. So we all went to find a place to sit and get some food. He was willing to drink but only ate a little fruit popsicle and 1/2 a pretzel.
Finally my husband started poking him. "Where's the appendix?" he asked. Now, I'm not sure why I knew this except to say that I'm a worrier by nature and I must of stored it away "just in case" I ever got sick. I pointed to the area that I knew the appendix hung out. My husband immediately took my cell phone and called his father, a retired pediatrician. At this point, I figured it was serious as my husband rarely ever thinks an ailment requires a call to his father.
Interestingly enough, it was the pain on the bumpy roads that lead my father-in-law to recommend we take my son to the nearest hospital.
I'm so glad that of all the hospitals we could have chosen in Washington, DC, that we chose the Children's National Medical Center. Everyone we came into contact with from the intake and triage nurse all the way to the surgical team and the nurses during his recovery were so patient and helpful. My son, like me, wants to know everything that is going on, as it helps relieve stress. So he asked question after question to each person who was involved in his treatment. When the surgeon met us he said, "So are you the boy with the appendix who asks all the questions?"
I know that appendicitis' are routine for doctors, but it was new territory for us. My son knew enough to know that untreated it could cause death. So when the ER staff said they needed to see if the surgery would be that night or the next day, my son got worried. It broke my heart when he cried and said, "I don't want to die." He also let the hospital staff know that he wanted it taken care of ASAP.
One thing that came back to haunt us was how much children remember. Many years ago, my husband and I played a computer game called Life and Death. The goal of the game was to do a successful surgery...Appendicitis...on a patient. My husband was really good but in the end, would lose because he'd forget to remove a clamp or sponge. The game had some funny aspects which we had told our kids about. So imagine our surprise when my son told us to be sure to tell the doctor to remove all the clamps. He was really worried about this.
Fortunately, they don't operate that way anymore. Instead they did the surgery using three little incisions and a camera. No clamps. No sponges.
My son is recovering very nicely. I wish that if I ever get sick that I could go to the Children's National Hospital! Thank you to all the staff from intake to discharge who cared enough to take time with a scared boy and his parents.
Leslie
We had dinner with my brothers, dad and step mom on Friday night. During dinner, my son complained of a stomach ache. We finally got him back to the hotel where he spent the next few hours in the bathroom.
The next morning, he said he felt better than the night before, but he still didn't want to eat. He didn't have a fever and he seemed in good spirits so we set out for the zoo. During the ride through Washington, DC (which I must say has terrible roads!), my son said his stomach bothered him again whenever there was a bump. We figured when we got him out in the fresh air that it would clear up. But at the giant panda exhibit, he sat down and said he needed to rest. So we all went to find a place to sit and get some food. He was willing to drink but only ate a little fruit popsicle and 1/2 a pretzel.
Finally my husband started poking him. "Where's the appendix?" he asked. Now, I'm not sure why I knew this except to say that I'm a worrier by nature and I must of stored it away "just in case" I ever got sick. I pointed to the area that I knew the appendix hung out. My husband immediately took my cell phone and called his father, a retired pediatrician. At this point, I figured it was serious as my husband rarely ever thinks an ailment requires a call to his father.
Interestingly enough, it was the pain on the bumpy roads that lead my father-in-law to recommend we take my son to the nearest hospital.
I'm so glad that of all the hospitals we could have chosen in Washington, DC, that we chose the Children's National Medical Center. Everyone we came into contact with from the intake and triage nurse all the way to the surgical team and the nurses during his recovery were so patient and helpful. My son, like me, wants to know everything that is going on, as it helps relieve stress. So he asked question after question to each person who was involved in his treatment. When the surgeon met us he said, "So are you the boy with the appendix who asks all the questions?"
I know that appendicitis' are routine for doctors, but it was new territory for us. My son knew enough to know that untreated it could cause death. So when the ER staff said they needed to see if the surgery would be that night or the next day, my son got worried. It broke my heart when he cried and said, "I don't want to die." He also let the hospital staff know that he wanted it taken care of ASAP.
One thing that came back to haunt us was how much children remember. Many years ago, my husband and I played a computer game called Life and Death. The goal of the game was to do a successful surgery...Appendicitis...on a patient. My husband was really good but in the end, would lose because he'd forget to remove a clamp or sponge. The game had some funny aspects which we had told our kids about. So imagine our surprise when my son told us to be sure to tell the doctor to remove all the clamps. He was really worried about this.
Fortunately, they don't operate that way anymore. Instead they did the surgery using three little incisions and a camera. No clamps. No sponges.
My son is recovering very nicely. I wish that if I ever get sick that I could go to the Children's National Hospital! Thank you to all the staff from intake to discharge who cared enough to take time with a scared boy and his parents.
Leslie
posted by Leslie Truex at 4:18 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home