The nurse and doctors commented on his energy for endless screaming and fighting over the entire duration.
Steph found it very interesting, but I just found it unnerving. Especially when I saw urine and stool rocketing out of the sides of his diaper. When the doctor had finished with the insertion, and the nurse released her grip on Quinn, he became oddly quiet and spacey.
Not one to be easily excited or overly concerned, I continued my routine of randomly snapping pictures, unaware of what lay ahead.
Quinn's nurse from the cardiac unit entered the room and began moving him around and patting his back to loosen up any residual mucus. We noticed his color was a bit paler than normal and his breathing sounded gargled.
The next few moments have become something I will never forget. Steph commented sternly that Quinn was not breathing. Remaining perfectly calm, I looked on casually expecting the back patting to clear Quinn's airway and see him cough. The nurse sat him up and continued patting his back. Fluid and foam appeared at his mouth and I thought he'd cough any second.
I even took a quick video in hopes I could capture him overcoming a tough moment.