Not so good news

I was hoping to blog about last Saturday’s ladies night right after I was done with submitting the last term paper I had to do.

But that was not to be.

Because a day after I was done with submitting that particular term paper, my dear son was terribly sick. So sick that now he is spending the night in University of Japan Hospital (Nihon Daigaku Byoin) in Ochanomizu, Chiyoda-ku.

Huzaifah had running nose beginning late last night. Then his temperature slowly increased. This morning I gave him some left-over medicine prescribed for fever and cold which we got in spring. His father recited the ayat syifa’ for him, fed him some air zam-zam, some dates and some water mixed with honey. He refused to drink or eat anything. We fed the medicine and the small amount of zam-zam water in small feeds using a 3ml syringe.

Then he started wheezing.

I knew it was an asthma attack. Both hubby and I have asthma. But we both made the mistake of assuming that it was a mild asthma attack. Because we never had to go to a child clinic since we moved to Tokyo, we did not know where exactly to go to consult a paediatrician.

First, we went to Asakusa Hospital which is right behind our house. No, they don’t handle paediatric cases. Rather , they specialised in elderly care - no surprise there considering Asakusa is filled with aging society. The girl behind the receptionist counter made a photocopy of a map, and directed me to the nearest child clinic.

The nearest clinic was not so near after all, and we managed to get lost before we met a kind Nihonjin who directed us to the clinic herself. Only to find that the clinic was closed, as the doctor was away for a health inspection in a primary school somewhere. We were advised to go to another clinic in Imado. Only that we had to wait until after 2.30 pm because by then the clinic was already closed for lunch break.

Went back home, for lunch and Zohor. Then went to the clinic in Imado.

The doctor looked grave as he advised us to go to a bigger hospital since his clinic did not provide any treatment for asthma. Apart from that advice and some kiddy stuff for Huzaifah (no sweets, but a balloon, a sheet of stickers with a matching postcard to be used with the stickers), we got yet another photocopied map, directing us to Senjoji Hospital, at the back of the famous Senjoji Temple.

On the way to the big hospital, I suddenly realized that, after paying the fee at the clinic earlier (I haven’t register Huzaifah for child allowance in Taito-ku yet , so not only we haven’t receive any Child Allowance but we also have yet to receive the Medical discount card which entitled us to pay minimal fee for his medical services), I didn’t have that much cash so we went to the bank first to withdraw some money.

By the time we reached the Sensoji Hospital, it was nearly 4 p.m. I was so relieved that the doctor who attended to Huzaifah could speak English well. But my relief quickly turned to horror as the doctor told us that Huzaifah had to be hospitalized because he was going through a severe attack of bronchitis asthma. And guessing from the symptoms, he told us that he suspected Huzaifah might even be suffering from pneumonia.

He could not be hospitalized in Sensoji Hospital because there’s no such facility there. The kind Dr. Hiroshima called up a few other hospitals with ward facilities before he finally told us that there’s a vacancy at Nihon Daigaku Hospital, and that we would all go there in an ambulance. The Sensoji Hospital has no ambulance facility too, so he had to get one from Tokyo Ambulance service.

While waiting for the ambulance, Huzaifah was given some therapy first – a combination of inhaling nebulizer, IV drip infusion and steroid injection to expand his chest and made breathing easier. Since the oxygen rate in his blood was less than 96%, he also had to wear an oxygen mask, which I held close to his mouth and nose since he kept pushing the mask away when the nurse held it.

It was heartbreaking when the doctor told us that we could not stay with Huzaifah in the hospital since all visitors, including parents, have to leave the hospital by 8.00p.m. It was even more heartbreaking to hear Huzaifah wailing as the doctor put on the drip. And it had to be done twice because the first time Huzaifah struggled so violently that after the drip needle was inserted, it later became mixed with his blood since the needle was not firmly inserted or something to that effect.

The doctor boarded the ambulance too, accompanying us to Nihon Daigaku Hospital, checking Huzaifah’s heaving chest every few minutes, keep glancing at the oxygen level and pulse rate monitor throughout the 15 - 20 minute journey. The journey was shorter than normal trip by car because in addition to siren, ambulances in Tokyo are equipped with loud speakers, enabling the driver to politely but firmly requesting cars to move aside as they pass and to thank the drivers for their kind cooperation. We reached Ochanomizu at around 5.30 p.m.

As soon as we arrived at the hospital, a group of doctors immediately hovered around him. One doctor acted as the coordinator as the team was briefed by Dr Hiroshima. Right after that, I was interviewed in Nihongo – someone seeking explanation why we were late in getting medical treatment, then there was someone asking the basic history of Huzaifah so far – past record of immunization, where was he delivered, was it a normal delivery, his weight at birth, my health when I was pregnant, including whether I was hospitalized during pregnancy. I told them about my hyperemesis gravidarum episodes, and one doctor quickly ran to find the translation in Nihongo because no one among them knew what hyperemesis gravidarum is in Nihongo. Not surprising since we were at the paediatric unit, not O&G.

The doctor who was acting as the coordinator turned out to be the only one among them who’s good in English. He then explained every step of the therapy they suggested for Huzaifah. From the symptoms – high fever, coughing, wheezing - they tried to exhaust all possibilities – viral infection, bacterial infection, pneumonia - which would be ruled out by different tests.

If only listening to Huzaifah wailing was heartbreaking, it was even more heartbreaking to see Huzaifah struggling as he was subjected to a blood test. I leaned on hubby, usurping some extra strength from his presence as we saw Huzaifah being subjected to other tests – the x-ray, the extraction of some hanamizu (hingus) as they tried to check for and culture the virus. The doctor informed us that if Huzaifah’s condition worsen during the night, he would be given oxygen therapy using a tent, which they set up at the next bed, as a precaution. A nurse even showed a sample of a special cloth that Huzaifah might had to wear for safety purpose so as to ensure that he won’t fall from the bed where the tent for oxygen therapy was set up.

We prayed solat hormat waktu for both Asar and Maghrib. But we did not stop praying. Hubby continued reciting ayat syifa’, while I held Huzaifah in my lap after I was given the go-ahead by the doctor. The oxygen rate in his blood gradually improved from 96% to 100% as his pulse rate decreased from over 160 to 130 a minute and the wheezing stopped after he got his second 0.2 cc dose of nebulizer.

Sometime around 7.30 p.m, all the doctors assembled near our bed, this time with a new face I hadn’t seen before. Huzaifah had already went to sleep, and was not disturbed even when the new doctor, who turned out to be the Chief Medical Examiner, examined him.He consulted his notes before telling the English speaking doctor to tell me that Huzaifah was out of danger, that he would turn out ok, but since he had just went through a severe attack, they would like to keep him under observation for maybe up to five days, to ensure that there’s no repeat of such attack. I thanked the Chief Doctor, and thanked all the doctors for their efforts. Huzaifah got a viral infection which led to his asthma attack - not bacterial infection since his inflamation was not serious, and no pneumonia as proven by his x-ray.

I could not help feeling impressed with their level of efficiency – from the doctor to the nurses, all of them worked hard as a team to ensure Huzaifah’s quick recovery and comfort. The nurse who changed his cloth – I was glad that I brought a pair of change in his bag – even checked on his daily routine – what time he normally goes to sleep and wake up, how many times he feed on milk daily and how much per feeding, how many times he eat a day and what does he usually, how many teeth does he has so far (she checked them personally despite Huzaifah’s feeble attempt of restraint), what brand of milk does he drink, down to do I normally feed him when he’s sleeping.

Huzaifah was still sleeping soundly when his father and I left the hospital with heavy hearts. I pray that he will get well soon. I hope he will be discharged even earlier than the predicted 5 days. I wish he didn’t have to be left alone at the hospital, but I had no choice. I can only pray that he would be okay and that if needs arise, he would be comforted by the nurses – even if he had to listen to Nihongo lullabies rather than my usual recitation of selawat.

I know there’re wars going on right now everywhere. I know that I am going through nothing compared to what they are facing right now. But I hope that you, my friends, in between making do’a for our Muslim brothers and sisters who are affected by the ongoing wars, would be kind enough to insert a small prayer for my son’s health and quick recovery.