Last night, Stellan and Quentin spent the night at NYU hospital, where Stellan underwent a sleep study. It took a month to get the initial evaluation scheduled (or to even get someone to call me back, frankly), but once we had that last week, getting the study itself on the calendar was quick and easy. The sleep study was suggested by Stellan’s new ENT, the one who noticed his swollen tonsils and adenoids, because he wanted a baseline on Stellan’s sleeping (terrible) and breathing (not great either at the moment) to have something to compare to after he has his tonsils and adenoids out.
It was the first major doctor’s appointment or medical event I didn’t attend, since I needed to stay home with Zoe, which felt really weird. It was so quiet last night without the boys.
They were supposed to arrive at the hospital at 7:30 but I was a little later than planned getting home from work so they didn’t leave on time and ended up getting to the hospital around 8:30. By the time Stellan was all hooked up and plugged in, it was nearly 10pm. Definitely way past his bedtime. Quentin sent me this photo first.
And I thought, “aw poor Stellan.” He hates having things in his nose. (I know this because I am a champion baby booger picker.) But then he sent me this one and I thought, “he is NEVER going to sleep tonight.”
But sleep he did, apparently. Which is something he has done quite well for the past few nights, despite being one of the world’s worst sleepers for the past several months. Okay really for pretty much the past two and a half years. So we thought that the result of the sleep study would just be “parents are crazy, this kid sleeps like a dream.”
However today one of the doctors called me and left a message saying that “because Stellan stops breathing when he sleeps, we need to order a second study with an oxygen mask.” I’m sorry, what?! So he really does stop breathing? Because we always wondered why he doesn’t just wake up casually in the night (or ever, really) but instead wakes up screaming bloody murder, with every muscle in his little body tensed up. So I guess it sort of makes sense.
So now we wait. For another sleep study. Which requires insurance approval to schedule. And then another night in the hospital. And then, maybe then, this poor kid can get his tonsils out (I say that like it’s a fun thing) and might be able to breathe normally again. I hope.
(Oh and yes, those PJs say “Midnight Snack Bandit” and they are just about the cutest thing.)