Whoever thought that a simple little cut could turn into something more drastic?
That is exactly what happened with our little boy, Jaxon Adair. He currently lies in a hospital bed in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU), fighting for his little life. He is currently in a drug-induced coma, in grave condition; doctors aren't so sure as to whether he is going to be able to survive this thing or not.
Jaxon has necrotizing fasciitis, or NF. Somehow, bacteria got into his wound, and it went crazy. He seemed fine after he'd cut his knee in a fall off the backyard swing in our yard, but early the next morning, I was startled awake by the sounds of moaning. When I went to check in on Jax, I was surprised to find him in great pain.
When I touched him, he was burning with a terrible fever: he was as hot as a live coal. When I took his temperature, I was shocked to see that it was high: 104.5 degrees! That was when I also noticed his leg: it was hot, swollen to twice its normal size, and grossly discolored.
I knew something was dreadfully wrong with our son, so I told Jack (my husband, and our son's namesake) that I was running Jaxon to the Emergency Room because it was obvious that he was very sick.
At the hospital, Jax was immediately rushed into the ER. The nurses saw the grievious state he was in, so they took him from my arms and rushed him to a cubicle, where other nurses and doctors soon descended upon him. Vital signs were taken, as were blood, stool, and urine samples. Lights were shined into his eyes and they tested his reflexes and neurological functions. IVs and oxygen were started.
There was the sudden talk of surgery ... and the sooner, the better, the one doctor was saying.
Surgery? For an infection??
What was going on? I remember thinking. What is wrong with Jaxon? Why is he so terribly sick? Would he be okay or would he die? These were the questions I remember thinking as I went to a phone to call Jack to tell him what was going on.
Now it is two days later, and Jax lies in the PICU. It is heartbreaking to see him in the bed, lying there, unmoving, unseeing, and (hopefully) unfeeling. He's already had three surgeries on his leg, and there may be more to come if the infection continues to spread. They think they got most of it, but there may be some bacteria left in his system, so they are flooding his body with massive doses of antibiotics and are currently monitoring his condition.
His leg is there (right now; they may have to amputate; it is still uncertain at this time), but it lies open in a bloody, oozing mess. It is nasty looking, almost to the point of nausea whenever I see it.
In order to see Jax, everybody (staff and visitors) have to gown up: gloves, mask, gown. We can't risk spreading infection to Jax; he is already in bad shape as it is, and any additional germs could kill him in just mere hours. And the staff is advising that only I or Jack can see him; anybody else is forbidden to visit Jaxon, especially if they are coughing, sneezing, or sick in any way.
When we do see Jax, we can only see him for fifteen minutes every two hours. And we have to "gown up" each and every time.
So that is the latest on Jax's status. Not good, but at least he's hanging tough. I just pray for a miracle; Lord knows, he certainly needs that!!
~To be continued.~