I don't even know...

how to tell you about today and the events that have taken place. My mind is tired, my heart heavy. Its been a very, very, very long day and it has not been easy on any of us. Not my sweet Ashley, my precious husband doing his very best to get through today in the office knowing all she was enduring, my big kids at our home alone, my good friends who had to witness more today than I'm sure they thought they were signing up for.

It went from bad, to worse, to can it really have happened.

I'm so tired. I'll just spit out the facts and leave the emotion bottled up. If I shed another tear today...never mind. It doesn't matter what I think would happen to me. All that matters is that my baby girl is lying behind me, alive, with a heart still beating, and a machine filling her lungs with air.

Facts:

Ash has a line. Its a hepatic line. The one we all had hoped could be avoided. It could not. Its all she's got. We are on the last leg of venous access for our Ashley.2 and 1/2 hours into surgery, they got it placed through her liver and threaded up toward her vena cava.

Ash came back unable to breathe. Even on the ventilator. The machine could not fill her lungs with any volume. They hand bagged her for more than 30 minutes. 3 different people took over the bag as others bag suctioned her, shot x-rays, and held their breath. Her vent setting all went back up and we are starting over with a collapsed right lung. I stared at the monitors for as long as I could watching a bag and sets of hands force air into her lungs, then I stepped into the hall and cried.

Ashley's 2 IV's on her right foot were unwrapped and a very dangerous injury was discovered. The wrapping of the IV's cut off the circulation to the heel portion of her foot. The screaming and thrashing around last night was her attempt to tell them all that something was wrong. I even stepped out into the hall asked for it to be unwrapped, discussed how she was showing us something wasn't right and nothing was done. No one knows, not the ICU Nurse Practitioner, not the ICU intensivist, not the transplant surgeon, not our nurse, nor the wound nurse knows what is going to happen. We have to wait and see. Its disgusting to realize the extent of her suffering over the night. My heart is broken for her. Ashley is highly intelligent and knows how to show us when something is wrong. She is often misunderstood and even ignored since she can't talk. Being on the vent only complicated her ability to communicate. She was eventually drugged to a level that she became unconscious and slept through the pain. To say that my husband is angry over this senseless injury is an understatement. We are all angry. Including the transplant surgeon and fellow. It was a mistake, but is was unnecessary and now she suffers.

So much has taken place today, but I don't have the energy to write. Maybe later in the night, but for now I'm going to try and close my eyes while my sweet baby still lies still from the paralytic and sedation in her system.

I think the hardest part for me in all of today was when the physician looked at me and said, "We've got a line. It was either put it in the liver or let her die. So today is a good day. We got one." How am I to celebrate that? I walked down the hallways back toward our door with my heart pounding out of my chest and the words echoing in my ears. It was our only option. She really is going to die without a miracle. With that thought piercing my soul tonight I'm going to say goodnight. I'm hoping for a quiet night of healing for my sweet baby.