There are two little red numbers on the stat monitor, and I’m staring at them, willing them to go up. 92. 92. 92. 92.
92 is too low. I know the guidelines. He’s got to stay above 94 on 1L or less. I check the tank (is oxygen even coming out of this thing? Is there even any oxygen in there? But the needles on green, when I pull out the tube and crank it up I can hear the o2 rush out).
92. 92. Maybe he just needs a minute. I’ve put him down and he’s just fallen asleep. Asleep is when we need to pay attention, when he’s not moving about or working as hard. 92. 92. 92. 92.
Is the stat monitor probe even on correctly? I peel back the blanket to look at Kai’s chubby toes. He’s still, and the little red light is steady and exactly where I left it. It’s not the monitor. 92. 92.
I put the blanket back and reposition the mask slightly, bothering Mikaere in his sleep.
92. 92. 92.
Do I call our nurses? Not yet. I already know they’ll say if he can’t stay about 94 we have to go back into hospital. I don’t want to go onto the ward. I will, if I have to, but I don’t want to. He’ll catch something else there for sure, and I don’t fancy living in a half metre gap along side his hospital bed, sleeping on a plastic armchair that folds flat. With no sleep for anyone, gross showers and shitty food. No thanks.
Do I crank up the o2? Just to see if 1L isn’t enough?
Just as I reach over to the tank, the light flicks to 93. 94. 95. 96.
The relief is overwhelming. It’s not 92. He just needed a minute. I’m on edge, and have been the last few days. He’s back into the safe zone. I feel like I can breathe again.
We’re not in hospital yet, hey? Thank fuck for that.