My husband and I experienced our scariest moment to date. Our son, M, was playing with his friends while we had dinner at their house. M and I had just come back from Sioux Falls that weekend and he had been sleeping the entire drive home. We noticed after going to get some ice cream that he seemed very sleepy and clingy. After a quick temperature check, he wasn't running a fever but noticed he didn't feel well, so we went to get our coats to leave.
As we were leaving, he stood at the top of the stairs shaking uncontrollably. Not knowing if he was cold or having a potential seizure, we rushed him into the car and called into the triage nurse at the ER. She asked us to take him inside, undress him, get his temperature, dose with Tylenol if needed and monitor him. At that point, his fever spiked to 103.7 and he was more lethargic than when we left our friends home 20 minutes prior. After about 10 minutes trying to decide what to do, we brought him into the Sanford ER.
On the drive there we prepped ourselves for a long night in the ER, probably some fluids and medications, and home in the early hours of the morning. Once we arrived, the triage nurse brought us back to check his O2 and get his vitals. She squinted a bit, tried to get his O2 again, and informed us she didn't know if the SAT probe wasn't reading correctly or if he needed oxygen so she was going to put a mask on him and see if the number shifted. Immediately after placing him on oxygen, she looked up and said that she was going to get a room ready and to stay here for a moment. My husband and I, still not knowing what was happening, talked ourselves up for the long night ahead.
The triage nurse walked us back and we laid M on the ER stretcher. Adam, our nurse for the evening walked in, introduced himself, and our ED doc ran into the room. She explained his O2 saturation was low (80% when we arrived) and he was a septic risk and that they would do everything they can to help him feel better. She then turned to Adam and said we need an IV in him right away.
As she left, Adam kept talking to us. Keeping us calm and working to get M's IV started. After some time, he said he was going to get another nurse to help out as he was having difficulty getting a vein. Adam returned with another nurse and they worked together to get our son's IV going. After failed attempts and trying to start one with a vein finder and ultrasound, the doctor came in and told us he was sick, needed fluids and antibiotics, and that we were wasting time and couldn't wait any longer. At this point, she mentioned he needed an IO port. My husband and I had no idea what this was but knew that he needed it at this moment.
As we signed the paperwork, my husband sitting on a folding chair nervously shaking and myself sitting on the floor crying, Adam turned to us and explained what was going on. He told us what was about to happen, that it would sound bad, but this would help M right now as he was too dehydrated to get an IV in and if we delayed by trying more, we would be delaying his treatment.
As Adam, the other nurse, and the physician braced my son's leg to insert the IO port, Adam turned to us and explained what was happening, again. He talked us through the process as the others focused on my son.
After placing the IO port, giving fluids, and getting him stable, we had to wait for a bed up on PICU. When our bed was ready, Adam walked up with us and when M was getting settled in the room, Adam stayed with us in the family waiting area for an additional 45 minutes while we waited, and walked us back to the room when M was settled.
Every act of kindness he displayed that night was beyond what was asked of him. His empathy toward all of us, his care for my son, his compassion for a scared family. These are the reasons I share this story so often. It is the epitome of what a nurse should be, and he continues to be that nurse to this day.