Surgery update: What the heck day is this?!

Things have been steadily looking up for our wee Sam. On Tuesday, surgery came and removed his chest drainage tube. Apparently, having a chest drain in is very painful so getting rid of it allowed them to wean a little more on his pain meds and sedation. We are down to a bit of hydromorphone and Sam is looking less druggy all the time. He's also weaned off almost all the cardiac medications that he was put on during his post-operative shenanigans. He just has a whiff of milrinone left.

Yesterday was our hoped-for extubation day but Sam decided to revisit his old friend Ventilator Associated Pneumonia. I have only rude things to say about VAP but apparently Sam needed one more playdate. The doctors wanted him to have 24 hours on the antibiotics that combat this particular strain of pneumonia before extubating him. So we waited.

Sam spent the afternoon crying and unsettled. His cries were extra heartbreaking since he makes no noise with the breathing tube in. I didn't want to take my eyes off of him in case he was in distress and no one noticed. So I stayed next to him but none of my mama charms were working. Then, I discovered the Belly Rub. I think I spent about 3 hours yesterday just rubbing his tummy and gently moving his legs up and down. It was the the only thing that soothed him. To be clear, I did not mind one bit.

At some point that I can't remember because days and nights are all blending and time is all hospital-wonky, Samuel started getting fed through his NG tube. It's just the tiniest amount but has been enough to stimulate some gut action. This would explain the unsettledness and need for belly rubs. I can't even imagine what gas pains feel like in his tiny, recently renovated innards.

Today was either going to be Extubation Day or Hysterical Corinne Day. I arrived in the ICU as the team was gathered outside his room making their plan. Sedation and ventilator settings were ready. Feeds had been stopped. They emptied his stomach via his NG tube, got everything ready and... pulled that tube. Such a super awesome moment. Within 5 minutes, Sam was looking at us and *smiling* and flinging his arms around happily. Within another 5 minutes, he was chewing on the arm splint for his central line and using his wily fingers to pull off all of his probes. His voice is hoarse, almost non-existent, but it will return soon.

Sam, post-op day 2, at his almost worst. His feet were *freezing* from no circulation so I tried socks but they didn't really fit over his sausage feet and cankles. They stopped fitting altogether after this.

Sam, looking just a little more like himself, snoozing with the Valentine's Day pup that appeared in his room that morning with a heart balloon. Thank you, amazing Hospital Child Life people.

Sam this morning while we prepared for extubation.

Our peacefully napping EXTUBATED Sam.

I will get to hold Sam again today. Chris is very sick with a cold and may have to wait another day or two. More than a week without my baby in my arms is not good for my mama-heart. It's also not good for my other boys as they have had to absorb extra mama-cuddle-attacks to compensate for what I can't give to Sam. I think they are finding this a bit much. Okay, I know they are. Because they said so. Um, possibly more than once. Just another reason for them to miss their little brother.

What now? Sam still has some difficulties with his electrolyte balance that need to be fixed so that his heart and other systems are not stressed. He has to come off of a couple of medications and get his central line out and prove to them that he's stable enough to leave ICU. Then we are up to floors to get him eating and well enough to go home. Come on, Sam. Let's go home.