Blood Extraction
14 May 2019
Although we were prepared that more blood extraction to get from Patrick unlike before, when I finally see that in action...I was totally unprepared.
One big test tube sample was used to collect Patrick's blood. And five or six small ones. Usually Patrick dislike this procedure.
On the morning of 14 May 2019, two doctors dropped by our room. They asked questions on Patrick's state. How was his stools and urine lately? His mannerisms among others.
When both doctors left, one female doctor soon came after. She was assigned to extract blood from Patrick. She prepared us to be ready soon. Somehow when Patrick saw her, he reacted with a distress cry. When she came a little nearer to show she was friendly, Patrick cried even more and raised his index finger to the doorway.
"You want me to leave? Ok ok."
Before she left, she reminded me to come soon. Again, Patrick gave a protesting cry as if he understood her. Again, his index finger raised to the doorway. I was not sure was he trying to say he wants to leave the room or requesting the doctor to leave. Maybe he sensed that doctor was "trouble" for him.
I tried to make him cheerful by playing with him and singing to him. He still has this restless nervousness. Half hour passed. The doctor returned to my room, signalled me by body language that it was time.
When I brought him into the procedure room, immediately he reacted with fearful cries. He recognised the room. It was a room where you get to hear common cries of babies and toddlers undergoing medical procedures. Now it was Patrick's turn.
No matter how many times I brought Patrick into the room, I always do so with a sinking heart. I wish for Patrick to have as little trauma as possible during the procedures. Not always I am able to do that for him.
When I placed him on the bed, he reacted even more. He is anticipating pain to come. Usually at this juncture, I whipped out my bare breast at him, nudging him to breastfeed. I will keep telling him to "think of mummy's love. Feel mummy's love." The doctor tapped his palm to look for a visible vein to extract blood.
When she started to proceed without putting a band around his elbow area, I asked her why she did not do so. I saw other nurses and doctors putting a band around his elbow or forearm area before they insert the needle. Her reply was," I don't want to."
I did not like the answer. Because I remembered the previous doctor and nurse explained the purpose of the band was to help with the blood flow into the test tube. I don't have a good feeling if she decided not to do the norm.
The blood stopped flowing into the tube after awhile. Then she said she has to prick another hand. It was the first time this happen. When the doctor try to extract blood again without putting the band, this time I voiced up my concern.
"Can you please put the band on his arm? I don't want you to prick him again if the blood flow stops again."
She paused at my words. I noticed she has a slight reaction on her face. I could not interpret what it meant. It was either "troublesome mother" or "not happy" that I am dictating her actions. If she still insisted on her ways, I would insist on my way as well.
Thankfully that did not happen. It was still an agonising process because so much blood was being extracted from him. Sometimes he was wailing. Sometimes he was sucking hard on my nipple.
Eventually the procedure was over. I picked up a sobbing Patrick. I told him continuously I loved him. That I do not mean to hurt him. That the procedure was done to find out how sick was his body. Sometimes I could tell Patrick was not convinced by my explanation.
When I returned Patrick to his room, another group of doctors dropped with questions on his condition. I asked them, when is his echo appointment? When they checked their system, they said it was not arranged yet. They will follow up on my behalf.
Then the rest of the day I tried to lift up Patrick's spirits by laughing, singing and reading his favourite nursery rhymes.
We were not prepared for what was to come the next day.
Although we were prepared that more blood extraction to get from Patrick unlike before, when I finally see that in action...I was totally unprepared.
One big test tube sample was used to collect Patrick's blood. And five or six small ones. Usually Patrick dislike this procedure.
On the morning of 14 May 2019, two doctors dropped by our room. They asked questions on Patrick's state. How was his stools and urine lately? His mannerisms among others.
When both doctors left, one female doctor soon came after. She was assigned to extract blood from Patrick. She prepared us to be ready soon. Somehow when Patrick saw her, he reacted with a distress cry. When she came a little nearer to show she was friendly, Patrick cried even more and raised his index finger to the doorway.
 |
| Leave me alone, doctor! Leave me be! That seem to be the common protest of Patrick. |
"You want me to leave? Ok ok."
Before she left, she reminded me to come soon. Again, Patrick gave a protesting cry as if he understood her. Again, his index finger raised to the doorway. I was not sure was he trying to say he wants to leave the room or requesting the doctor to leave. Maybe he sensed that doctor was "trouble" for him.
I tried to make him cheerful by playing with him and singing to him. He still has this restless nervousness. Half hour passed. The doctor returned to my room, signalled me by body language that it was time.
When I brought him into the procedure room, immediately he reacted with fearful cries. He recognised the room. It was a room where you get to hear common cries of babies and toddlers undergoing medical procedures. Now it was Patrick's turn.
No matter how many times I brought Patrick into the room, I always do so with a sinking heart. I wish for Patrick to have as little trauma as possible during the procedures. Not always I am able to do that for him.
When I placed him on the bed, he reacted even more. He is anticipating pain to come. Usually at this juncture, I whipped out my bare breast at him, nudging him to breastfeed. I will keep telling him to "think of mummy's love. Feel mummy's love." The doctor tapped his palm to look for a visible vein to extract blood.
When she started to proceed without putting a band around his elbow area, I asked her why she did not do so. I saw other nurses and doctors putting a band around his elbow or forearm area before they insert the needle. Her reply was," I don't want to."
I did not like the answer. Because I remembered the previous doctor and nurse explained the purpose of the band was to help with the blood flow into the test tube. I don't have a good feeling if she decided not to do the norm.
The blood stopped flowing into the tube after awhile. Then she said she has to prick another hand. It was the first time this happen. When the doctor try to extract blood again without putting the band, this time I voiced up my concern.
"Can you please put the band on his arm? I don't want you to prick him again if the blood flow stops again."
She paused at my words. I noticed she has a slight reaction on her face. I could not interpret what it meant. It was either "troublesome mother" or "not happy" that I am dictating her actions. If she still insisted on her ways, I would insist on my way as well.
Thankfully that did not happen. It was still an agonising process because so much blood was being extracted from him. Sometimes he was wailing. Sometimes he was sucking hard on my nipple.
Eventually the procedure was over. I picked up a sobbing Patrick. I told him continuously I loved him. That I do not mean to hurt him. That the procedure was done to find out how sick was his body. Sometimes I could tell Patrick was not convinced by my explanation.
 |
| Mummy will always be with you, Patrick. |
When I returned Patrick to his room, another group of doctors dropped with questions on his condition. I asked them, when is his echo appointment? When they checked their system, they said it was not arranged yet. They will follow up on my behalf.
Then the rest of the day I tried to lift up Patrick's spirits by laughing, singing and reading his favourite nursery rhymes.
We were not prepared for what was to come the next day.
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