77. Tyler

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Sam was annoyed that a) I insisted on taking her to the hospital and b) that they were admitting her. They took her for an ultrasound on her leg first, and an x-ray. I could tell she wasn't feeling well. She was more lethargic than usual, and quiet. Normally, Sam is chatting up a storm with Jenna or Rosie. Today after school she was quiet and answering questions with short answers. Between the sore leg and the fever, we needed to know something more serious wasn't going on. And with Sam being diabetic, healing can take extra time and she's more susceptible to infections and complications.

I watched her doze as we waited for her to be admitted and taken to a room. I called Jenna.

"So," I said. "They're admitting her. They've taken her for an x-ray and an ultrasound. Her blood work shows she's got an infection somewhere."

"How's she doing?" Jenna asked, knowing Sam doesn't like hospitals.

"She's sleeping right now, and they've given her a fever reducer but she's still pretty warm. The doctor said they're going to start a broad spectrum antibiotic."

Jenna sighed.

"Poor kid. I hope whatever's going on, it'll be easily dealt with."

"Same," I said.

We talked for a little while until Sam started stirring. Then writhing. She was either having a nightmare or a fever dream, but I wanted to wake her before it got worse.

"Sam, Sam honey," I said, shaking her shoulder. I could feel heat radiating off of her. I hit a call button while trying to wake Sam up.

She opened her eyes, but wasn't really focussing.

"Mama?" She said.

"Hi baby.  It's Dad."

"Daddy, I don't feel so good," Sam whined in a small voice I don't recall ever hearing.

"I know, baby. We're at the hospital and we're going to get you all fixed up."

"It's so cold in here," Sam said, shivering. I pulled the blanket around her.

Just then, a nurse came in.

"You called?" She said, looking at Sam, who was looking around the room deliriously.

"My daughter's fever seems really high," I said. The nurse came in and looked at Sam. She took a thermometer off the cart beside her bed.

"Samantha, can you put this under your tongue?" She asked. Samantha looked at her with glassy eyes, smiled and opened her mouth. The nurse put the thermometer under her tongue.

"Don't bite it," she said to Sam. Sam nodded. 

When it beeped the nurse took a look at the number and then ran out of the room. Things began to happen very quickly after that. Sam was rushed up to the ICU. They got her settled in a bed and hooked up to heart monitors. Then the nurses came in with ice packs and a really big ice pack that they called a cooling blanket.

The nurse explained what was happening once Samantha was settled.

"Whatever is causing her infection is causing the fever, obviously. She's running close to 105, and we need to get that down before we can even consider any other treatment. Anything over 105 can cause seizures."

I looked over at my daughter, lying in an ICU bed, again. Her eyes were closed but I wasn't sure she was sleeping. 

I went and sat beside her, taking her hand. Her eyes opened some.

"Hi Dad," she said.

"Hey Champ," I replied.

"I don't feel good," she whined.

"I know," I said. "Your fever is getting really high."

"Why?" She whined. I smiled. I knew she wasn't complaining. She was barely aware.

"Because you have an infection, sweetheart."

"Oh. Okay." She said, closing her eyes again.

The doctor came in a little while later.

"She's asleep?" He asked me. I nodded.

"Okay. Well, I can discuss the results with you. What we have so far, anyway."

"Okay.  What's happening?"

"It seems that there's an infection in the muscle in Sam's leg. There's a lesion on the muscle, which we're going to need to drain. It also looks like there's some scar tissue around some of the nerves and blood vessels that's cutting off blood to her leg. We're going to need to do surgery to try to save her leg."

"Wait - 'try to' save her leg?"

"If she's lost enough blood supply to that muscle, we might need to amputate. We'll also have to see how deep that infection goes."

I stared at the doctor.

"She can't lose her leg," I said. "That might literally kill her. She plays basketball. She was just starting to get back to it very, very carefully."

"Our plan is to save her leg. Amputation is a last resort. She's going to need some pretty intense physio to build that muscle back. Either way, we're going to need to operate. I've booked her in for seven tomorrow morning."

He handed me the consent forms and discussed the surgery he planned and what he would need to see to decide on an amputation. I signed them, knowing I could easily be signing Samantha's life away.

The doctor tried to reassure me that he was optimistic that he wouldn't have to amputate, but he had to prepare us. What I didn't know was how I was going to tell Samantha.

As soon as he left, I checked on Samantha. She was deeply asleep, so I went out into the hallway and broke down as quietly as I could. Then I called Jenna.

"Hey hon. How's Sam?"

"She's in the ICU," I said, my voice catching.

"Why? What happened?!"

"Her fever spiked to near 105, so they have her on a broad spectrum antibiotic and under cooling blankets and everything."

"My poor girl. That's what she was like with that infection when you were away," Jenna said.

"There's more," I said.

"I know. I can hear it in your voice. What's wrong?"

"They want to operate. The ultrasound and the x-ray showed the infection is in her muscle. There's a lesion they need to operate on."

"Okay. That sounds, normal. What else?"

I took a deep breath.

"Scar tissue is cutting off the blood supply to her muscle. It's why it hasn't healed quite as well by now as we'd hoped."

"So, what are they saying?" Jenna asked.

"They're going to operate tomorrow morning to drain and clean up the infection in her muscle and try to cut out some of the scar tissue to get better blood supply."

"What time? We'll be there."

"Seven. But there's still more."

"Tyler, what more could there be?"

With my voice shaking and tears threatening again, I told my wife the worst part of the news I'd gotten.

"They might have to take her leg."

"What do you mean?" Jenna asked. "What do you mean 'take it'?"

"Depending on how bad the damage is from the scar tissue, they might have to amputate it," I said, breaking down.

"I'm getting Josh and Debby to watch Rosie. I'm coming to the hospital. How did Sam take the news?"

"She's asleep. She doesn't know yet."

"Wait until I get there. Please don't say anything to her until I get there."

We hung up and I went back to Samantha's bedside. She was still, blissfully, sleeping.

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