Aspirations
If you’ve never seen someone experience a pulmonary aspiration consider yourself lucky. Over the last several years as Brinley’s lungs have gotten weaker and her swallow along with it, she can have these occur often and out of the blue.
After school one day recently, Briggs, and I were talking about his day and playing around with Brinley. I even had Brinley laughing really hard which happens to be the cutest thing ever! Then suddenly, her laugh turns silent. Face still laughing, but no sound. This has happened before where she is laughing so hard she can’t catch her breath, so I didn’t worry at first.
However, that wasn’t the problem because as the silence continues her eyes grow large, face turns red, and her smile becomes an attempt to cry. She can’t get any sound out though, and her eyes are now wild, pleading for help. Still there’s no sound.
Her face goes red from the effort to cough then to a purple-lipped pale color. Her oxygen is dropping, and she is frantic but still silent. I can see and feel her heart pounding.
I never get used to this. I have to go from mom mode to attempting to be an ER doctor in seconds. The plug causing her aspiration can be cleared, or it can get really bad really fast. I get the suction and try going down her nose and throat to get a cough strong enough to knock loose whatever mucus is clogging her airway.
While I’m doing this Brinley is panicking. Her heart rate is in the 170s and oxygen barely above 80. I have to leave her side and go bump the oxygen up (dad’s not home from work yet so I’m doing this solo). Briggs wants to show me something, and then decides he wants mom to play. He’s so used to moments like this he doesn’t even realize when it’s bad. I have to put on the mom mask over the medical mom face and calmly ask him to give me a second. It doesn’t matter how bad things get with Brinley I have a responsibility to still acknowledge Briggs’ needs.
So there I am, one kid who wants to talk and play, the other gasping for air. I’m considering a 911 call as I continue to try everything I can think of to get her to cough. The suction is a double-edged sword, it helps to clear the airway, but it also takes much needed air from the body. I had Briggs get my phone so after a couple more attempts I could call 911 if she can’t clear her airway. One thing that isn’t talked about much is all the thoughts that have to race through your mind as all of this is happening. Let me break it down:
“I’m not going to be able to do this.”
“I’m making it worse with the suctioning. Should I stop? If I stop will she breathe better or will the plug move deeper into her lung?”
“Maybe I should call 911. If I call them, I still have to try and get her to breathe until they get here. Once the ambulance arrives what can they do that I’m not doing?”
“What do I do with Briggs? Are the neighbors home? Should I call Aaron?”
“Does she need bipap? Or will the time it takes to get the bipap on be precious time lost to attempt to clear her airway?”
“How’s Briggs? Is he freaking out and trying not to show it?”
The thoughts are endless.
Brinley did finally get that miracle cough which cleared her airway enough to breathe. The anxiety of the moment had already done its damage though. She did not want me to leave her side the rest of the night. I spent the next couple of days constantly suctioning, and Brinley was in tears with the struggle.
That’s the problem with an aspiration, even when you can clear it at home the effects are long lasting. Sometimes she ends up with an infection (pneumonia) as a result of it. Other times it comes and goes quickly. Then there are days like this one where the likely outcome changes with each second.
Just another day in the life of a special family.
