Dr. Carter was my favorite doctor who directly cared for Christopher during his stay at Wilford Hall. She not only combined the great skill and intuition that was necessary to be a good neonatologist, but she was remarkably empathetic with her tiny patients. She seemed to be able to understand exactly how they were feeling and I often felt as though the babies' health would respond favorably when she was around. Knowing that she was Christopher's doctor gave us a great peace of mind. We would see her in the nursery during almost every visit and she would always greet us and give us a full report. Often times we would find out that she had been in the nursery for over one or two days without leaving. She cared so much she would never want to leave her patients.
After a month, Dr. Carter and David left the nursery to fulfill other duties. Because Christopher's stay in the hospital was so lengthy, he would come under the care of many other doctors. Being a military teaching hospital, Wilford Hall used a rotation system where every two months one of the second year pediatric residents would serve as the attending physician for all of the babies. It was one of the most difficult and stressful responsibilities they would face. In addition, a neonatal fellow, like Dr. Carter, would serve as the head of the NICU, and a first year resident would help out. Generally, the second year resident would spend between twelve to twenty-four hours each day in the nursery. The neonatal fellow would be there most of the day and the early part of the evening, and the first year resident would be there to help take some of the load off of the other doctors but was primarily there to learn.
The nursery itself was divided into four areas. At least one registered nurse and a technician served each area. Generally, each area would have between one and three babies, although there were times when as many as five babies would be in a single area. Care for each individual baby differed greatly and the care requirements could change dramatically based upon the well being of each patient. Some babies were trying to gain weight so they could go home. Others were being monitored for irregular heart beats. Some required oxygen. And others required around the clock monitoring. The nurses and technicians served in three, eight-hour shifts that would change at 7am, 3pm, and 11pm. Some of the nurses were civilians, while others were officers in the Air Force.
In retrospect, it is interesting to think that one of the most difficult things we faced in the NICU was the difference in the care given to Christopher. It's not that the care was ever bad, it’s just that each caregiver had their own personality and method of caring for the patients. In addition, we often became comfortable with things being done in a certain way. However, things were constantly changing with the various work shifts and rotations. And to complicate matters, the constant stress, pressure to perform, as well as personal conflicts would affect the manner in which the staff would fulfill their responsibilities.
After the first few weeks in the NICU, we began to notice flaws in the once perceived flawless environment; doctors would make multiple attempts at inserting an IV, nurses would forget to wash their hands as they would move between patients, diapers would go unchanged for long periods, respirator equipment would be improperly set, and IV and feeding tubes would be set up improperly or forgotten and would have to be restarted. The more time we spent in the nursery, the more mistakes we began to notice. No single occurrence seemed to be life threatening, but having a very sick baby made each little mistake seem that much greater. We knew that Christopher faced a big enough struggle without having to face complications caused by a careless mistake. We began to wonder what could possibly be happening at the hospital when we were gone if mistakes were occurring while we were there visiting. This would often become one of the most frightening things that we would face as parents of a sick baby. We would never know. Being a baby, Christopher was unaware and unable to tell us if he was being cared for properly when we were gone. We tried to ease our fears by calling the nursery during the times we were away. We would call late at night before we fell asleep and first thing in the morning when we woke up. We would call several times during the day and attempt to spend a good portion of our time there at the nursery during midday and the early part of the evening. However, none of these things allayed our fears.
During one of our evening visits, we walked in on one of the "mistakes". Because Christopher was on pavulon (the paralyzing drug described earlier), the doctors had prescribed a salve for his eyes since he was unable to blink or close his eyes on his own. When the effects of the pavulon would wear off, Christopher would often wake up and open his eyes. However, he would soon begin to fight the ventilator and it would be necessary to paralyze him again to allow the ventilator to work efficiently. Remembering to paralyze Christopher was never a problem. However, remembering to close his eyes and apply the eye salve was often forgotten. At first, their forgetfulness didn't bother me very much. But after seeing it happen several times, I decided to try and hold my eyes open for a short period without blinking to see what it felt like. It was terrible. I decided to ask Christopher's doctor how important it was for the eye salve to be applied. He told us that besides the terrible discomfort, Christopher's eyes could be damaged if they were left dry for a long period of time. We tried everything to help the nurses to remember. We asked the doctors to stress its use on their instructions. We strategically placed several tubes of the eye ointment around his bed so they would see them and remember. We asked if they had remembered to apply it when we called from home. But despite our efforts, they would still forget. We just ended up irritating the nursing staff.
One particular evening we walked into the nursery and found Christopher paralyzed, eyes wide open, and no eye salve. The nurse made a comment that Christopher had "woken up" so they had to give him another dose of pavulon (over an hour before we had arrived). She looked right at Christopher, rubbed his hair, and said, "Oh look, his eyes are open," as she walked off to attend to her other duties. We looked around the bed and found the ointment had been neatly stored under his bed by a nurse during the prior shift. When we finally got up the nerve to ask the active shift nurse, she looked first at Christopher and then us and then told us she had applied some earlier. She then began to look around the bed for the ointment and upon not finding any went to get another tube. She never looked in the drawer. It was pretty obvious that she wasn't telling the truth. When applied, the thick ointment was very visible. There wasn't a trace of it around Christopher's eyes. I think her lying probably bothered me more than her forgetfulness. We tried to be understanding, but it was becoming more and more difficult. We tried expressing our concerns to the doctors and nurses, but it seemed the more we tried, the worse things became.
Then God reminded me of an event recorded in the Old Testament. It was the account of Abraham and his only son Isaac. God had promised Abraham a son when he and his wife, Sarah, were well beyond their childbearing ages. (Genesis 18:10) God fulfilled His promise by giving them a son, which they named "Isaac". (Genesis 21:2-3) Years later, a very strange event takes place. God asks Abraham to take his son Isaac and place him on an altar and sacrifice him like an animal sacrifice. (Genesis 22:1-2) It is estimated that at the time, Isaac was a young man.
Why would God ask Abraham to do such an unusual thing? The Bible simply records that God was testing Abraham. In the New Testament book of Hebrews, Abraham is commended for his obedience in taking Isaac and offering him as a sacrifice. (Hebrews 11:17-19) In the case of Abraham, God provided a last second alternative by sending the angel of the Lord to stop Abraham. It is recorded that when Abraham "raised his eyes and looked," he saw a ram caught in the thicket by his horns. Abraham then took the ram and offered the ram as the burnt offering in the place of his son Isaac. The Bible goes on to record that Abraham called the place "The Lord Will Provide". (Genesis 22:9-14)
Through this passage of scripture, I felt the Spirit of the Lord was telling me to lay the care of my son on His altar - to sacrifice whatever troubles that Woody and I were burdened with and give them to Him. We had unsuccessfully tried to resolve the problems with the power of our flesh and had failed. Now the burden upon us was almost unbearable. What did it mean to "sacrifice our cares on the altar"? Didn't God know that if we didn't make the staff aware of their mistakes that Christopher's health could be further jeopardized?
During our hospital stay, I noticed there were basically two different kinds of parents. One kind wanted to know everything that was medically happening to their child - what kind of medications, procedures, risks, benefits, timetable, and so on down to the last detail. Then there were those who wanted to know little or nothing about what was going on. They didn't want to be bothered by all of the medical details; they just wanted to have their child get better. Woody and I are the kind of people who want to know everything. But we often admired the people who wanted to know little. They seemed to be so much less burdened by all of the small things that bothered us. Now God was asking us to give Him all of our burdens, to be much like the kind of parents who wanted to know little about what was happening to their child.
At first, the thought of doing this seemed very irresponsible. As knowledgeable parents, shouldn't we be involved in all aspects of care given to our son? But as questions such as this arose, the answers became more clear. God wasn't asking us to be less knowledgeable or irresponsible - just unburdened. We were coming to understand that believing in a Father God is to believe in a God who is in control when all seems to be chaotic. It is to recognize that there is a higher authority than the doctors, nurses, and medical staff at Wilford Hall. It is to believe in a Lord who provides at the right time, Who never sleeps nor slumbers, Whose love never ceases. (Psalm 121:3-4, Lamentations 3:22) It was to believe in a God who could protect Christopher's eyes when the nursing staff would forget, watch over him during the times when we were unable to be there, and comfort him when no one knew the comfort he needed. After all, believing in God meant believing in the God Who created eyes. The Old Testament psalmist proclaims that we were formed by His hand in secret. (Psalm 139:13-16) The New Testament reveals that the power of God can heal blind eyes. For us to put Christopher on the altar meant we were to release our burdens to him and to trust that He would provide.
I had my doubts. What if I was wrong? Could I be risking the health of my son by trusting in God when I could prevent at least some of the mistakes? But in reality I knew I couldn't be there all of the time. Even if I could, would I even know how to help if watching over his health meant doing something far more demanding than applying eye salve?
Most importantly, this wasn't some whim or something we picked up haphazardly. This was Spirit breathed - the voice of the Lord. Doing anything less would be disobedient to our God Who was extending His loving hand. So we prayed, "Father, we lay our son Christopher on your altar. We're trusting in you to watch over him and to protect him. Amen."
I would like to say that the mistakes immediately ceased from happening, but I can't. If anything, they seemed to happen more frequently and more often than before. But we were much less burdened. We quit trying to correct the mistakes. We eliminated our methods for "reminding" the nursing staff, and when we encountered problems, we quietly resolved them ourselves. Over time, we found that during the course of Christopher's life in the hospital, we would have to "lay him on the altar" over and over again. Each time that we would get burdened by our own interpretation of events, the Spirit would gently remind us that He was to carry our burdens. Our burden was to be light and easy.
During the seventh month of Christopher's life, at one of his doctor's request, an ophthalmologist came to examine Christopher's eyes. Prior to this point in his life, Christopher had survived being born nearly three months prematurely. He had survived over seven months on a respirator with high concentrations of oxygen. He had been subjected to massive doses of antibiotics, super antibiotics, and steroids. He had undergone several episodes where he went with little or no oxygen. He went for many hours without being able to rewet his eyes during hours of paralysis. We were warned that all of these events medically concluded that he would have minor, and likely major eye damage. The ophthalmologist was called in to assess the damage and to plan a course of action to take once Christopher's health was more stable. After a lengthy stay, the ophthalmologist left the nursery to document the results.
A few days later, Christopher's doctor met with us to inform us of the test results. Christopher's eyes were perfect.
After a month, Dr. Carter and David left the nursery to fulfill other duties. Because Christopher's stay in the hospital was so lengthy, he would come under the care of many other doctors. Being a military teaching hospital, Wilford Hall used a rotation system where every two months one of the second year pediatric residents would serve as the attending physician for all of the babies. It was one of the most difficult and stressful responsibilities they would face. In addition, a neonatal fellow, like Dr. Carter, would serve as the head of the NICU, and a first year resident would help out. Generally, the second year resident would spend between twelve to twenty-four hours each day in the nursery. The neonatal fellow would be there most of the day and the early part of the evening, and the first year resident would be there to help take some of the load off of the other doctors but was primarily there to learn.
The nursery itself was divided into four areas. At least one registered nurse and a technician served each area. Generally, each area would have between one and three babies, although there were times when as many as five babies would be in a single area. Care for each individual baby differed greatly and the care requirements could change dramatically based upon the well being of each patient. Some babies were trying to gain weight so they could go home. Others were being monitored for irregular heart beats. Some required oxygen. And others required around the clock monitoring. The nurses and technicians served in three, eight-hour shifts that would change at 7am, 3pm, and 11pm. Some of the nurses were civilians, while others were officers in the Air Force.
In retrospect, it is interesting to think that one of the most difficult things we faced in the NICU was the difference in the care given to Christopher. It's not that the care was ever bad, it’s just that each caregiver had their own personality and method of caring for the patients. In addition, we often became comfortable with things being done in a certain way. However, things were constantly changing with the various work shifts and rotations. And to complicate matters, the constant stress, pressure to perform, as well as personal conflicts would affect the manner in which the staff would fulfill their responsibilities.
After the first few weeks in the NICU, we began to notice flaws in the once perceived flawless environment; doctors would make multiple attempts at inserting an IV, nurses would forget to wash their hands as they would move between patients, diapers would go unchanged for long periods, respirator equipment would be improperly set, and IV and feeding tubes would be set up improperly or forgotten and would have to be restarted. The more time we spent in the nursery, the more mistakes we began to notice. No single occurrence seemed to be life threatening, but having a very sick baby made each little mistake seem that much greater. We knew that Christopher faced a big enough struggle without having to face complications caused by a careless mistake. We began to wonder what could possibly be happening at the hospital when we were gone if mistakes were occurring while we were there visiting. This would often become one of the most frightening things that we would face as parents of a sick baby. We would never know. Being a baby, Christopher was unaware and unable to tell us if he was being cared for properly when we were gone. We tried to ease our fears by calling the nursery during the times we were away. We would call late at night before we fell asleep and first thing in the morning when we woke up. We would call several times during the day and attempt to spend a good portion of our time there at the nursery during midday and the early part of the evening. However, none of these things allayed our fears.
During one of our evening visits, we walked in on one of the "mistakes". Because Christopher was on pavulon (the paralyzing drug described earlier), the doctors had prescribed a salve for his eyes since he was unable to blink or close his eyes on his own. When the effects of the pavulon would wear off, Christopher would often wake up and open his eyes. However, he would soon begin to fight the ventilator and it would be necessary to paralyze him again to allow the ventilator to work efficiently. Remembering to paralyze Christopher was never a problem. However, remembering to close his eyes and apply the eye salve was often forgotten. At first, their forgetfulness didn't bother me very much. But after seeing it happen several times, I decided to try and hold my eyes open for a short period without blinking to see what it felt like. It was terrible. I decided to ask Christopher's doctor how important it was for the eye salve to be applied. He told us that besides the terrible discomfort, Christopher's eyes could be damaged if they were left dry for a long period of time. We tried everything to help the nurses to remember. We asked the doctors to stress its use on their instructions. We strategically placed several tubes of the eye ointment around his bed so they would see them and remember. We asked if they had remembered to apply it when we called from home. But despite our efforts, they would still forget. We just ended up irritating the nursing staff.
 |
| Almost 5 months old and fearfully and wonderfully made |
Then God reminded me of an event recorded in the Old Testament. It was the account of Abraham and his only son Isaac. God had promised Abraham a son when he and his wife, Sarah, were well beyond their childbearing ages. (Genesis 18:10) God fulfilled His promise by giving them a son, which they named "Isaac". (Genesis 21:2-3) Years later, a very strange event takes place. God asks Abraham to take his son Isaac and place him on an altar and sacrifice him like an animal sacrifice. (Genesis 22:1-2) It is estimated that at the time, Isaac was a young man.
Why would God ask Abraham to do such an unusual thing? The Bible simply records that God was testing Abraham. In the New Testament book of Hebrews, Abraham is commended for his obedience in taking Isaac and offering him as a sacrifice. (Hebrews 11:17-19) In the case of Abraham, God provided a last second alternative by sending the angel of the Lord to stop Abraham. It is recorded that when Abraham "raised his eyes and looked," he saw a ram caught in the thicket by his horns. Abraham then took the ram and offered the ram as the burnt offering in the place of his son Isaac. The Bible goes on to record that Abraham called the place "The Lord Will Provide". (Genesis 22:9-14)
Through this passage of scripture, I felt the Spirit of the Lord was telling me to lay the care of my son on His altar - to sacrifice whatever troubles that Woody and I were burdened with and give them to Him. We had unsuccessfully tried to resolve the problems with the power of our flesh and had failed. Now the burden upon us was almost unbearable. What did it mean to "sacrifice our cares on the altar"? Didn't God know that if we didn't make the staff aware of their mistakes that Christopher's health could be further jeopardized?
During our hospital stay, I noticed there were basically two different kinds of parents. One kind wanted to know everything that was medically happening to their child - what kind of medications, procedures, risks, benefits, timetable, and so on down to the last detail. Then there were those who wanted to know little or nothing about what was going on. They didn't want to be bothered by all of the medical details; they just wanted to have their child get better. Woody and I are the kind of people who want to know everything. But we often admired the people who wanted to know little. They seemed to be so much less burdened by all of the small things that bothered us. Now God was asking us to give Him all of our burdens, to be much like the kind of parents who wanted to know little about what was happening to their child.
At first, the thought of doing this seemed very irresponsible. As knowledgeable parents, shouldn't we be involved in all aspects of care given to our son? But as questions such as this arose, the answers became more clear. God wasn't asking us to be less knowledgeable or irresponsible - just unburdened. We were coming to understand that believing in a Father God is to believe in a God who is in control when all seems to be chaotic. It is to recognize that there is a higher authority than the doctors, nurses, and medical staff at Wilford Hall. It is to believe in a Lord who provides at the right time, Who never sleeps nor slumbers, Whose love never ceases. (Psalm 121:3-4, Lamentations 3:22) It was to believe in a God who could protect Christopher's eyes when the nursing staff would forget, watch over him during the times when we were unable to be there, and comfort him when no one knew the comfort he needed. After all, believing in God meant believing in the God Who created eyes. The Old Testament psalmist proclaims that we were formed by His hand in secret. (Psalm 139:13-16) The New Testament reveals that the power of God can heal blind eyes. For us to put Christopher on the altar meant we were to release our burdens to him and to trust that He would provide.
I had my doubts. What if I was wrong? Could I be risking the health of my son by trusting in God when I could prevent at least some of the mistakes? But in reality I knew I couldn't be there all of the time. Even if I could, would I even know how to help if watching over his health meant doing something far more demanding than applying eye salve?
Most importantly, this wasn't some whim or something we picked up haphazardly. This was Spirit breathed - the voice of the Lord. Doing anything less would be disobedient to our God Who was extending His loving hand. So we prayed, "Father, we lay our son Christopher on your altar. We're trusting in you to watch over him and to protect him. Amen."
I would like to say that the mistakes immediately ceased from happening, but I can't. If anything, they seemed to happen more frequently and more often than before. But we were much less burdened. We quit trying to correct the mistakes. We eliminated our methods for "reminding" the nursing staff, and when we encountered problems, we quietly resolved them ourselves. Over time, we found that during the course of Christopher's life in the hospital, we would have to "lay him on the altar" over and over again. Each time that we would get burdened by our own interpretation of events, the Spirit would gently remind us that He was to carry our burdens. Our burden was to be light and easy.
During the seventh month of Christopher's life, at one of his doctor's request, an ophthalmologist came to examine Christopher's eyes. Prior to this point in his life, Christopher had survived being born nearly three months prematurely. He had survived over seven months on a respirator with high concentrations of oxygen. He had been subjected to massive doses of antibiotics, super antibiotics, and steroids. He had undergone several episodes where he went with little or no oxygen. He went for many hours without being able to rewet his eyes during hours of paralysis. We were warned that all of these events medically concluded that he would have minor, and likely major eye damage. The ophthalmologist was called in to assess the damage and to plan a course of action to take once Christopher's health was more stable. After a lengthy stay, the ophthalmologist left the nursery to document the results.
A few days later, Christopher's doctor met with us to inform us of the test results. Christopher's eyes were perfect.
Scripture quotations taken from the NASB.
© Copyright 1987, 2016 by Rick Murata. All Rights Reserved.