This morning has been rough. An IV is needed to give Becky sedation during the brain MRI. Unfortunately, the IV placed during surgery didn’t last long. The PICU team worked hard to place another one.

And they were unsuccessful.

A 4-person team arrived for the IV placement. I told them Becky’s history and asked if it might be possible to wait for the anesthesiologist and the gas to put her to sleep. They felt confident they could make it happen while she was awake. I sat in a chair, praying desperately as Becky screamed. The first nurse practitioner blew through a line in her hand. After this first unsuccessful attempt, I gently pushed my way into the group and asked to be near Becky. I agreed to help hold her down.

I tried not to cry. I tried to sing Oom, Plucka Plucka. I tried telling her a story about The Tiger Who Wore White Gloves. My forehead against hers, my hands holding down those plump little arms, my tears mingling with hers. But nothing really seemed to help. They brought in an ultrasound and another nurse practitioner tried again. And blew through another vein. Becky kept screaming. Through tears, I asked if we could please stop and take a break. I was grateful for their efforts but not surprised at the outcome. I’ve seen this so many times before.

I scooped Becky up, held her close, and let the tears flow. I just don’t understand this particular cross. It’s so hard to draw blood. It’s so hard to get an IV placed. And I just.don’t.get.it. Surely she has enough going on.

Becky immediately fell asleep. And the PICU team decided to wait for the anesthesiologist. Shortly afterwards, we walked to the imaging lab.

After a long wait, the anesthesiologist came and I signed the forms. After grabbing some lunch, I came back to the PICU. The nurse practitioner just reported back that Becky was fast asleep. The IV was successfully placed after three more tries. With the help of the magic gas. Thankfully, Becky knew nothing about it this time. She is in the MRI now.