Sometimes, I start to feel like the mom of a typical newborn. But then, I feel the stares at the pediatrician's office as we wheel an oxygen tank behind Joshua, and I remember that we haven't hit normal yet. Here's what having an oxygen tank and a monitor are like.
- Joshua can breath.
- We always have an idea of how Joshua is doing. The monitor tells us his heart rate and oxygen level.
- When we call the pediatrician's office and say words like "NICU," "Oxygen Tank," and "Breathing Problem," they get us in that morning and give you extra time with the doctor. We're hoping to utilize this method through the teen years.
- When you go into the doctor's office, there is no wait time.
- Joshua wiggles his feet a lot which wears out the sensor fast. Then the monitor beeps a lot. When the sensor is working properly, beeps are few and far between.
- The monitor is loud. It's like fireworks-during-a-thunderstorm-during-a-rock-concert loud.
- I can't prove it, but it's louder at night.
- Because Joshua is attached to cords, he is rather immobile. It would be nice to be able to carry him into the kitchen for example.
Not Bad Just Weird
- We've taken Joshua out twice. Both times to the pediatrician. One of us leads with Joshua; the other trails behind with the oxygen and monitor. It's cumbersome to say the least.
- I have to cut holes in the feet of his zippy pajamas so that the monitor attached to his foot will read. I'm probably the only mom alive who prefers snaps.
- Onesies are slid on over his feet because of his oxygen tube.
- Joshua finds comfort in holding his oxygen tubes. It's not so comfortable when he pulls them so hard the stickers peel off.
- No one has fallen over a cord yet, and for that I am grateful.