Yep. I'm angry today. I'm angry at my husband. Why? Because I love him, that's why. But he doesn't listen very well, so I'm writing him this letter. And I know he'll see it because he reads my blog.
Dear Mike,
I love you. Do you know that? You should after what we've been through the last year and a half, the good, the bad and the hideously ugly. I've been right by your side, through it all. Sometimes for days on end.
I can't possibly let you know exactly what it was like to sit by your bedside in the ICU after the accident and wait and worry and make deals with the Universe in my head for your survival. I can't tell you what it was like to try to stay awake, convinced that something bad would happen if I closed my eyes, if for a second, I lost my focus.
I can't tell you what it was like, even after you were doing better, to be afraid to leave the hospital, to leave your side. No one told you how I'd begin to shake if I was gone longer than a half an hour. How great the need to keep you in my sight was.
I can't tell you how hard it was for me to let you out of my sight once we were back home. How scared I was to let you drive anywhere by yourself. How I sat there, staring at my phone, waiting for the text saying that you made it safely.
But I did it. You pulled through and so did I. And gradually, I learned to let it go, that I didn't have to be constantly vigilant, that it was going to be OK.
Then you got really sick in February and we did the hospital thing again. Luckily, it was over quickly and you were better, nearly overnight. And you were cranky. But I stayed there with you and I put up with your crankiness, because I was still so grateful that you were alive. Ok. Little speed bump. No big deal.
Then last weekend you got sick again. At first, I wasn't really that worried. I hated that you were feeling so bad, but I figured a night in the hospital, IV fluids and antibiotics and you'd perk up. Just like February. But it didn't happen that way. You ran a high temp for 3 days. Your white count shot up. The doctor was stumped. I was petrified.
I can't tell you what it was like to be there, again. Doing the bedside vigil and wondering if you were going to kick this thing or if it was something much more serious. You were asleep more than you were awake and you weren't real clear when you were awake. But you never knew how scared I was, because I didn't show it. And when you began to worry, I'm the one who curled up in the bed beside you and gave you a pep talk.
And you pulled through again. And you began to get sarcastic and I knew you were getting better. We came home yesterday and you slept mostly. The kids remarked that when you were awake, you were grumpy. Tell me about it. And yet, I didn't hold it against you.
So why am I angry? Because after all of this, you still refuse to take care of yourself. The doctor said that you still have the pneumonia and you were supposed to go home and rest. I'm pretty sure that didn't mean going immediately back to work this morning. Remember last night when you got up, walked from the living room to the kitchen and had a coughing fit so bad, you doubled over? Remember how you had to sleep sitting up in the chair last night, because you couldn't breathe?
And yet, this morning, you were gone before I got up and didnt' come back in to take a break for four hours. Does that sound like resting to you? Really? And so I fussed at you. And you said you hadn't done anything physical except drive around in your truck and talk to people.
Well, driving isn't resting. And talking to people is what got you into this in the first place. People have a million germs and I know for a fact that you weren't wearing a mask like you should have been. I'm pretty sure you didn't have any hand sanitizer either. You're immune system is already in a seriously weakened state and yet you insist on pushing your luck. So we had words. And I told you that next week when you're in the hospital again, I'm not going to be there. Because its not fair. Its not fair to put me in that position when you can avoid it. I told you I'd hire a babysitter to sit with you. Its an idle threat because you know I wouldn't do that. You know I'll be there.
You insisted that you'd be fine. I wondered when you developed psychic powers and the ability to know the future and why you hadn't shared that with me before. Maybe you will be fine. I hope so.
But for now, as I sit in my office, listening to you cough up a lung in the living room, I'm a tad on the skeptical side. So I'm not speaking to you. Because its not fair to yourself, its not fair to your job, and its damn sure not fair to the people who love you, to take risks with your health. But you don't listen. So I'm saving my breath.
Love,
Me
Sorry for the rant peeps, but sometimes people need to know what you're really thinking.
♥Spot
Showing posts with label hospital vigil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospital vigil. Show all posts
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
The one where we're in the hospital again *sigh*
So we're in the hospital again. You'd think by now we'd have a wing of our own, or at least a room, or maybe just a special comfy chair for me. But no, no special treatment. Except that we have the best doctor- Dr. (House) Saeed, the adorable hero of this post.
It started Saturday. Mike had to get up super early, like butt-crack of dawn early, before the sun, at 4am. He says he felt fine when he got up. I wouldn't know because I was doing what all (mostly) sane people do at that time- sleeping. But by the time I woke up, at the much more reasonable time of 8, he had texted me to say he wasn't feeling well. I told him to come up to the house and get some Motrin. He did, I took his temp, no fever, but he said he was cold. Unfortunately, that is usually exactly how him getting very sick starts. In fact, he put on pants (instead of shorts, it really was a lovely day out) and grabbed a jacket. By 2 he was back inside for more Motrin and a stocking cap ( I kid you not). Still no fever. By 3:30, he was down for the count. He could barely make it to the couch and was shivering so bad his teeth were chattering. Fever of 101. I called the Dr. answering service and Dr. Saeed just happened to be the one on call. He said take him to the ER, he was admitting him. I was smart enough to pack a bag!
By the time we got to the ER, his fever was up to 102.9, his headache was killing him and he was miserable. His white count was double what it should be and we were, of course, staying. They finally got his fever to break about 4am, but it kept spiking back up. When the fever was gone, he felt some better, but mostly slept. Not knowing exactly what was wrong they started giving him massive doses of antibiotics. When those didn't seem to be doing it, they added antiviral meds. His white count continued to climb. Nothing seems to be working.
Today, he woke up with 101.9 fever and feeling horrible. They finally got the fever broken, but he's definitely feeling less than well. His white count had dropped a half number. The Dr. said he thought that was mild progress and the fact that his fever was a little less was a good sign. That was at 3pm.
At 4pm his fever spiked back to 102.9. They got it broken again, but still. After so many antibiotics and antivirals that I'm almost positive he's going to glow in the dark, he shouldn't be running such a high fever. They are running two more tests tonight, and I hope that we have some kind of results tomorrow. Today was nothing but waiting and hoping that something would start working.
I don't know how long we will be here. They can't let him go with the fever or the white count this high. We're both frustrated and he's feeling badly. (I know this because he's not complaining about being here. Normally he's begging to go home and stressing about work. He's still stressing a little about work, of course, but only when he's not feverish. Hopefully, tomorrow brings better news, or any news.
Keeping that bedside vigil,
♥Spot
It started Saturday. Mike had to get up super early, like butt-crack of dawn early, before the sun, at 4am. He says he felt fine when he got up. I wouldn't know because I was doing what all (mostly) sane people do at that time- sleeping. But by the time I woke up, at the much more reasonable time of 8, he had texted me to say he wasn't feeling well. I told him to come up to the house and get some Motrin. He did, I took his temp, no fever, but he said he was cold. Unfortunately, that is usually exactly how him getting very sick starts. In fact, he put on pants (instead of shorts, it really was a lovely day out) and grabbed a jacket. By 2 he was back inside for more Motrin and a stocking cap ( I kid you not). Still no fever. By 3:30, he was down for the count. He could barely make it to the couch and was shivering so bad his teeth were chattering. Fever of 101. I called the Dr. answering service and Dr. Saeed just happened to be the one on call. He said take him to the ER, he was admitting him. I was smart enough to pack a bag!
By the time we got to the ER, his fever was up to 102.9, his headache was killing him and he was miserable. His white count was double what it should be and we were, of course, staying. They finally got his fever to break about 4am, but it kept spiking back up. When the fever was gone, he felt some better, but mostly slept. Not knowing exactly what was wrong they started giving him massive doses of antibiotics. When those didn't seem to be doing it, they added antiviral meds. His white count continued to climb. Nothing seems to be working.
Today, he woke up with 101.9 fever and feeling horrible. They finally got the fever broken, but he's definitely feeling less than well. His white count had dropped a half number. The Dr. said he thought that was mild progress and the fact that his fever was a little less was a good sign. That was at 3pm.
At 4pm his fever spiked back to 102.9. They got it broken again, but still. After so many antibiotics and antivirals that I'm almost positive he's going to glow in the dark, he shouldn't be running such a high fever. They are running two more tests tonight, and I hope that we have some kind of results tomorrow. Today was nothing but waiting and hoping that something would start working.
I don't know how long we will be here. They can't let him go with the fever or the white count this high. We're both frustrated and he's feeling badly. (I know this because he's not complaining about being here. Normally he's begging to go home and stressing about work. He's still stressing a little about work, of course, but only when he's not feverish. Hopefully, tomorrow brings better news, or any news.
Keeping that bedside vigil,
♥Spot
Saturday, August 28, 2010
The one where you try to remember who I am...
It feels like years since I last blogged even though it's only been two weeks. I did get a chance to read some of your blogs but not to comment. It still feels like I'm lost in blogland though. I feel like I'm constantly apologizing for not writing and some of my Kindle subscribers have probably dropped me, but honestly I'm afraid to check to see if they have! If you're friends with me on Facebook then you have some general idea of what's been going on. If you aren't you've probably been going "WTF?!". Don't feel bad, I've done alot of thinking that lately too.
So on the 17th of August we headed to the hospital with Lu for her splenectomy. The surgery went well. The doctor came out and talked to us afterward and said it took longer than planned because he tried to keep the incision small for her. (and yet it still ended up being 6 inches long!) He said she only lost a quarter unit of blood. Things seemed promising. They put her in the ICU for the night just to monitor her. They'd put in an epidural for pain relief and it was working so well that she wasn't in any pain at all. The night was good even though we got very little sleep. ICU is a noisy place and they check on you frequently. Plus Lu is a beautiful young girl and the nurse was a hott young very talkative guy.
Wednesday they moved her to the pediatric floor. The surgery floor was full and she was close enough in age to be able to stay there. That was a great choice. The nurses on that floor were wonderful. Wednesday was another good, pain free day for her. The only complaint she had was the bladder catheter they have to leave in while you have an epidural. It grossed her out.
Thursday the surgeon said they could take out the catheter and the epidural and she could get out of bed. Unfortunately, when the epidural meds wore off, there wasn't enough other pain meds in her system. I watched my baby writhe in pain for 3 hours while they tried to get it under control. Three shots of Toradol, two shots of Morphine and countless Loritab later she was finally comfortable again. Watching your baby in that much pain is something no mother should have to do. I've never felt so helpless. And in case anyone is wondering, Lu has a really high pain tolerance so this had to be agony for her to complain.
Friday, the pain was under control, but since she hadn't been able to use the bathroom, despite countless tries, they had to re-catheterize, she'd also spiked a temp so they added an IV antibiotic and did a urine specimen. It came back positive. So they added another antibiotic. Unfortunately, that same day she began vomiting and couldn't keep anything down. They gave her anti-nausea meds every four hours and they would knock her out for 3 and then she'd be awake and nauseous for the hour in between. It was a rough day.
Saturday she was still nauseous and feverish and the surgeon decided to do a CT scan to check things out. The CT scan revealed pneumonia in her left lung and a pocket of fluid in her pleural space. The surgeon called in a pulmonologist (lung specialist). The lung doctor wanted to watch her and wait, if things got better, no problem. If things got worse then he would have to draw some fluid off her lung. That night she ran a 101.8 fever.
Sunday I started wondering why the doctors couldn't seem to get this figured out. I mean the surgeon was off the hook- he had done his job and whatever was wrong now was beyond his speciality. He continued to see us and coordinate with the other doctors but he readily admitted he was baffled. She did get that catheter out again and seemed to have no trouble in that respect. And I do admit she wasn't giving the doctors much to go on. She had no cough, no pain, no shortness of breath, no real symptoms save fever. Sunday night she spiked a 103.5 fever. As the on call hematologist said "we could pop popcorn on you girl!". The nurse said "I'm going to call the doctor as soon as I can figure out which one to call!" A doctor was called, tylenol was ordered and the fever broke. And Lu ate pizza.
Monday I was frustrated. They did the Thoracentisis, which means they gave her a numbing shot in the back, then inserted a huge needle and drew off a sample of the pleural fluid. Lu took it like a champ. She is the strongest bravest girl I know. And I managed to comfort her and not pass out when I saw the sight of that needle. I did move so I wouldn't actually see it enter her back though. They sent off the sample. When her regular hematologist, who'd been off all weekend, showed up he was angry that they still didn't know what was going on and had called in an infectious disease specialist. Finally, someone agrees with me that this is crap and they should be able to figure it out. I was seriously considering demanding they send her to a bigger hospital but figured I'd see what the new guy had to say. I'm glad I waited. Dr. Saeed is amazing. He studied her chart before he came in, then he pulled up a chair and said "tell me about the last time she was healthy". I explained that Lu had always been kind of sickly, that she'd had whooping cough her freshman year, and that when the ITP was under control was when she'd been her healthiest. He asked about me and I said, that yeah I'm also puny and get sick easy. I told him I'd seen an immunologist once but no one ever followed up because my doctor moved. He told us we were very interesting. Then he examined her and told us that he was very sure Lu had a immune deficiency to begin with and when they removed her spleen (the captain of the immune system) it seriously depleted her immunities. He said the catheter introduced bacteria into the urinary tract causing that infection. The ventilator probably allowed some perfectly normal mouth germs to infiltrate her lung causing an anaerobic infection in the fluid in her chest. And that she also picked up pneumonia. He changed antibiotics around and added a special one for the anaerobic infection. He said she should be better in a few days and able to go home.
Tuesday her fever never did go above 100.8 degrees. Unfortunately that's still considered a fever and you can't be released from the hospital until your afebrile for 24 hours. She still had nausea and wouldn't eat much and she did throw up the antibiotic he ordered. So she was started on anti nausea meds again. I got my records from the immunologist faxed to the hospital so he could see them. He declared them interesting and said that I should have the follow up testing and that he was sending Lu to an immunologist here in town, but if he didn't seem to be going to do the testing she needed he would find us one in a larger city. He believes that Lu has basically no immune system currently.
Wednesday she was doing better. And her fever never went about 100 degrees. We'd started doing laps in the hallways to help get the fluid from her lungs. She had to wear a mask when she left her room but finally we were free of catheters and IV poles. That makes the going a little faster. People looked at us funny of course. Some pitying, thinking she had cancer. Some scared, thinking she was contagious. We'd gotten to know all the nurses so well and even the secretaries and housekeepers. There was always someone to chat with. But we were ready to go home.
Thursday she was discharged. We left with two antibiotics and anti nausea meds. And Dr. Saeed gave implicit instructions: Lu is not allowed in public except for doctor appointments and she has to wear a mask.If she should run any fever at all, call him. If she runs a fever over 100 or has a cough or chills we are to go immediately to the Emergency Room and tell them he sent us, he will come and admit her. I'm praying that doesn't happen.
It's good to be home. We both were happy to sleep in our own beds and take a shower in a room without bumping into anything. Those hospital bathrooms are killer. I do have to set my alarm and wake her up to take meds so that they are spaced evenly apart. And I do take her temperature alot but so far so good. And she's still not eating normally. Smoothies, noodle cups and such at least give her some nutrition. She lost 9 pounds in the hospital. By the end, dietary was sending up protein shakes. Because when you weigh just barely enough to begin with, 9 pounds is alot.
Someone asked me if we knew this was a possibility before we did the splenectomy. The answer is no. No doctor had ever really questioned her immune system. We had no idea she might be immune deficient to begin with and that taking out her spleen would cause serious and life threatening complications. And yet, the spleen had to come out. All treatments for ITP are immune suppressing. But the future is uncertain. We're facing alot of testing in upcoming months while they try to figure out which immune deficiency she has and how to treat it. We don't know when she will be allowed to leave the house. Once again, her life is on hold. I'm not sure she realizes the seriousness of it quite yet, but so far she is handling things with remarkable calm.
Thank you to all the staff and doctors who worked with her during our hospital stay. Everyone was respectful,kind and caring. And thank you to Dr. Saeed for getting us home at least. I have the utmost confidence in his ability to see this through to a solution.
And thank you to everyone who sent prayers, well wishes, good thoughts and offered real and moral support. I don't know how I'd get through this without you all.
♥Spot
So on the 17th of August we headed to the hospital with Lu for her splenectomy. The surgery went well. The doctor came out and talked to us afterward and said it took longer than planned because he tried to keep the incision small for her. (and yet it still ended up being 6 inches long!) He said she only lost a quarter unit of blood. Things seemed promising. They put her in the ICU for the night just to monitor her. They'd put in an epidural for pain relief and it was working so well that she wasn't in any pain at all. The night was good even though we got very little sleep. ICU is a noisy place and they check on you frequently. Plus Lu is a beautiful young girl and the nurse was a hott young very talkative guy.
Wednesday they moved her to the pediatric floor. The surgery floor was full and she was close enough in age to be able to stay there. That was a great choice. The nurses on that floor were wonderful. Wednesday was another good, pain free day for her. The only complaint she had was the bladder catheter they have to leave in while you have an epidural. It grossed her out.
Thursday the surgeon said they could take out the catheter and the epidural and she could get out of bed. Unfortunately, when the epidural meds wore off, there wasn't enough other pain meds in her system. I watched my baby writhe in pain for 3 hours while they tried to get it under control. Three shots of Toradol, two shots of Morphine and countless Loritab later she was finally comfortable again. Watching your baby in that much pain is something no mother should have to do. I've never felt so helpless. And in case anyone is wondering, Lu has a really high pain tolerance so this had to be agony for her to complain.
Friday, the pain was under control, but since she hadn't been able to use the bathroom, despite countless tries, they had to re-catheterize, she'd also spiked a temp so they added an IV antibiotic and did a urine specimen. It came back positive. So they added another antibiotic. Unfortunately, that same day she began vomiting and couldn't keep anything down. They gave her anti-nausea meds every four hours and they would knock her out for 3 and then she'd be awake and nauseous for the hour in between. It was a rough day.
Saturday she was still nauseous and feverish and the surgeon decided to do a CT scan to check things out. The CT scan revealed pneumonia in her left lung and a pocket of fluid in her pleural space. The surgeon called in a pulmonologist (lung specialist). The lung doctor wanted to watch her and wait, if things got better, no problem. If things got worse then he would have to draw some fluid off her lung. That night she ran a 101.8 fever.
Sunday I started wondering why the doctors couldn't seem to get this figured out. I mean the surgeon was off the hook- he had done his job and whatever was wrong now was beyond his speciality. He continued to see us and coordinate with the other doctors but he readily admitted he was baffled. She did get that catheter out again and seemed to have no trouble in that respect. And I do admit she wasn't giving the doctors much to go on. She had no cough, no pain, no shortness of breath, no real symptoms save fever. Sunday night she spiked a 103.5 fever. As the on call hematologist said "we could pop popcorn on you girl!". The nurse said "I'm going to call the doctor as soon as I can figure out which one to call!" A doctor was called, tylenol was ordered and the fever broke. And Lu ate pizza.
Monday I was frustrated. They did the Thoracentisis, which means they gave her a numbing shot in the back, then inserted a huge needle and drew off a sample of the pleural fluid. Lu took it like a champ. She is the strongest bravest girl I know. And I managed to comfort her and not pass out when I saw the sight of that needle. I did move so I wouldn't actually see it enter her back though. They sent off the sample. When her regular hematologist, who'd been off all weekend, showed up he was angry that they still didn't know what was going on and had called in an infectious disease specialist. Finally, someone agrees with me that this is crap and they should be able to figure it out. I was seriously considering demanding they send her to a bigger hospital but figured I'd see what the new guy had to say. I'm glad I waited. Dr. Saeed is amazing. He studied her chart before he came in, then he pulled up a chair and said "tell me about the last time she was healthy". I explained that Lu had always been kind of sickly, that she'd had whooping cough her freshman year, and that when the ITP was under control was when she'd been her healthiest. He asked about me and I said, that yeah I'm also puny and get sick easy. I told him I'd seen an immunologist once but no one ever followed up because my doctor moved. He told us we were very interesting. Then he examined her and told us that he was very sure Lu had a immune deficiency to begin with and when they removed her spleen (the captain of the immune system) it seriously depleted her immunities. He said the catheter introduced bacteria into the urinary tract causing that infection. The ventilator probably allowed some perfectly normal mouth germs to infiltrate her lung causing an anaerobic infection in the fluid in her chest. And that she also picked up pneumonia. He changed antibiotics around and added a special one for the anaerobic infection. He said she should be better in a few days and able to go home.
Tuesday her fever never did go above 100.8 degrees. Unfortunately that's still considered a fever and you can't be released from the hospital until your afebrile for 24 hours. She still had nausea and wouldn't eat much and she did throw up the antibiotic he ordered. So she was started on anti nausea meds again. I got my records from the immunologist faxed to the hospital so he could see them. He declared them interesting and said that I should have the follow up testing and that he was sending Lu to an immunologist here in town, but if he didn't seem to be going to do the testing she needed he would find us one in a larger city. He believes that Lu has basically no immune system currently.
Wednesday she was doing better. And her fever never went about 100 degrees. We'd started doing laps in the hallways to help get the fluid from her lungs. She had to wear a mask when she left her room but finally we were free of catheters and IV poles. That makes the going a little faster. People looked at us funny of course. Some pitying, thinking she had cancer. Some scared, thinking she was contagious. We'd gotten to know all the nurses so well and even the secretaries and housekeepers. There was always someone to chat with. But we were ready to go home.
Thursday she was discharged. We left with two antibiotics and anti nausea meds. And Dr. Saeed gave implicit instructions: Lu is not allowed in public except for doctor appointments and she has to wear a mask.If she should run any fever at all, call him. If she runs a fever over 100 or has a cough or chills we are to go immediately to the Emergency Room and tell them he sent us, he will come and admit her. I'm praying that doesn't happen.
It's good to be home. We both were happy to sleep in our own beds and take a shower in a room without bumping into anything. Those hospital bathrooms are killer. I do have to set my alarm and wake her up to take meds so that they are spaced evenly apart. And I do take her temperature alot but so far so good. And she's still not eating normally. Smoothies, noodle cups and such at least give her some nutrition. She lost 9 pounds in the hospital. By the end, dietary was sending up protein shakes. Because when you weigh just barely enough to begin with, 9 pounds is alot.
Someone asked me if we knew this was a possibility before we did the splenectomy. The answer is no. No doctor had ever really questioned her immune system. We had no idea she might be immune deficient to begin with and that taking out her spleen would cause serious and life threatening complications. And yet, the spleen had to come out. All treatments for ITP are immune suppressing. But the future is uncertain. We're facing alot of testing in upcoming months while they try to figure out which immune deficiency she has and how to treat it. We don't know when she will be allowed to leave the house. Once again, her life is on hold. I'm not sure she realizes the seriousness of it quite yet, but so far she is handling things with remarkable calm.
Thank you to all the staff and doctors who worked with her during our hospital stay. Everyone was respectful,kind and caring. And thank you to Dr. Saeed for getting us home at least. I have the utmost confidence in his ability to see this through to a solution.
And thank you to everyone who sent prayers, well wishes, good thoughts and offered real and moral support. I don't know how I'd get through this without you all.
♥Spot
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The one where we change rooms...
We made it to intermediate care!! Room 3410 for anyone who still wants to send an ecard. Last night was a rough one. He was running a fever again and was super restless. When you're the ice chip giver and your patient keeps waking up with a sore throat, well you aren't going to get a lot of sleep. There was also the worry and the steady stream of vitals checks.
This morning was rough. I started it by missing the Surgeon's visit. Can you believe I slept right through it?? He was standing 3 ft from me! He woke Mike up but not me. I'm sure he thinks I'm a pest with my gazillion questions. But if it weren't for my perseverance, he would never have gotten the breathing treatments that now make it easier for him to breathe. Then his Internist came in. He mentioned yesterday that I was the "chest x-ray girl" because I always ask about them. Well, pneumonia is a big fear. So today he checked them BEFORE he came in. He's learning. He ordered a CT scan to check things out because of the fever.
After he left, I noticed that the stuff coming through Mike's NG tube (the one that runs from stomach to nose and sucks out the stuff in your stomach) wasn't algae green like usual, but brown. When I looked closer I saw some bright red blood. Can I just tell you how badly that freaked me out?! I immediately got Bertha (the amazing super nurse) and the CT got upgraded to "stat". Luckily, the results came back okay, except for increased swelling and fluid in the left lung. Which is likely the cause of the fever. The doctor decided it would be safe to move Mike to IMC and before too long we were ensconced in our new room, on a new floor. It's a step down from ICU, a step up from a regular hospital floor. It's much bigger (he has to have private because of the compromised immune system). I now have a fold out couch to sleep on and we have a private bath (haha that only I use). It seems like the Hilton compared to what we had in ICU.
He got to lose the NG tube and is now on a clear fluid diet which means Jell-o. Lemon at that. He ate four bites. He also got rid of the catheter. He got up and sat in a recliner for 45 minutes and also walked about 10 steps. He has to be supported on both sides of course, but this is still progress. Also, he's now helping them to roll him over and change positions in his bed, he's no longer just dead weight. He was much more himself today, joking with the nurses, and Hildi. The nurses love him because he will try whatever they ask and is so laid back. They even told him how proud they are of him.
His Internist caught up with me in the hallway this morning and said~
Dr: Honey, you need to go home and get some sleep.
Me: I will. When he's better.
Dr: Don't you have a day job?
Me: (laughing) No. I'm a freelance writer and fiction writer. I have my laptop here and I work after everyone leaves and he falls asleep. I do think I might not make the deadline to get my novel to the editor now though.
Dr: A novel? What's it about?
Me: Well, it's a horror novel set in rural Illinois. About a family who moves from Chicago to the wrong town. It has to do with the Pied Piper fairy tale.
Dr: I know someone famous!
Me: Um. I doubt I'll be famous, but if I do get famous, I'll totally mention your name.
How am I holding up? I'm frazzled. I'm tired, I'm still worried and sometimes the close call takes my breath away. But I'm holding it together. I have the most wonderful support system. I did cry today, but it was tears of relief when the CT scans did NOT show some new horrible thing to deal with. And I cry every time my husband pulls my head down to his chest and rests his hands (poor slashed up sutured hands) in my hair. I know that he's trying to give me strength. But all I can think is how close I came to losing him. And how much I took him for granted before the accident. And how lost I'd be without him.
As we left ICU today, amidst hugs and promises to stop by and check on him, our "super nurse" Bertha told us it had been a pleasure to meet and work with us. That it was quite obvious how much we loved each other and our kids. That we had a great family. And you know what? We do.
Goodnight all,
♥Spot
PS- thank you again for everything. The cards, comments, ect really make our day. You all are our wonderful support system. I hope all my blogbuds will forgive me for not making it to their posts to comment. I would love to catch up as soon as I can.
This morning was rough. I started it by missing the Surgeon's visit. Can you believe I slept right through it?? He was standing 3 ft from me! He woke Mike up but not me. I'm sure he thinks I'm a pest with my gazillion questions. But if it weren't for my perseverance, he would never have gotten the breathing treatments that now make it easier for him to breathe. Then his Internist came in. He mentioned yesterday that I was the "chest x-ray girl" because I always ask about them. Well, pneumonia is a big fear. So today he checked them BEFORE he came in. He's learning. He ordered a CT scan to check things out because of the fever.
After he left, I noticed that the stuff coming through Mike's NG tube (the one that runs from stomach to nose and sucks out the stuff in your stomach) wasn't algae green like usual, but brown. When I looked closer I saw some bright red blood. Can I just tell you how badly that freaked me out?! I immediately got Bertha (the amazing super nurse) and the CT got upgraded to "stat". Luckily, the results came back okay, except for increased swelling and fluid in the left lung. Which is likely the cause of the fever. The doctor decided it would be safe to move Mike to IMC and before too long we were ensconced in our new room, on a new floor. It's a step down from ICU, a step up from a regular hospital floor. It's much bigger (he has to have private because of the compromised immune system). I now have a fold out couch to sleep on and we have a private bath (haha that only I use). It seems like the Hilton compared to what we had in ICU.
He got to lose the NG tube and is now on a clear fluid diet which means Jell-o. Lemon at that. He ate four bites. He also got rid of the catheter. He got up and sat in a recliner for 45 minutes and also walked about 10 steps. He has to be supported on both sides of course, but this is still progress. Also, he's now helping them to roll him over and change positions in his bed, he's no longer just dead weight. He was much more himself today, joking with the nurses, and Hildi. The nurses love him because he will try whatever they ask and is so laid back. They even told him how proud they are of him.
His Internist caught up with me in the hallway this morning and said~
Dr: Honey, you need to go home and get some sleep.
Me: I will. When he's better.
Dr: Don't you have a day job?
Me: (laughing) No. I'm a freelance writer and fiction writer. I have my laptop here and I work after everyone leaves and he falls asleep. I do think I might not make the deadline to get my novel to the editor now though.
Dr: A novel? What's it about?
Me: Well, it's a horror novel set in rural Illinois. About a family who moves from Chicago to the wrong town. It has to do with the Pied Piper fairy tale.
Dr: I know someone famous!
Me: Um. I doubt I'll be famous, but if I do get famous, I'll totally mention your name.
How am I holding up? I'm frazzled. I'm tired, I'm still worried and sometimes the close call takes my breath away. But I'm holding it together. I have the most wonderful support system. I did cry today, but it was tears of relief when the CT scans did NOT show some new horrible thing to deal with. And I cry every time my husband pulls my head down to his chest and rests his hands (poor slashed up sutured hands) in my hair. I know that he's trying to give me strength. But all I can think is how close I came to losing him. And how much I took him for granted before the accident. And how lost I'd be without him.
As we left ICU today, amidst hugs and promises to stop by and check on him, our "super nurse" Bertha told us it had been a pleasure to meet and work with us. That it was quite obvious how much we loved each other and our kids. That we had a great family. And you know what? We do.
Goodnight all,
♥Spot
PS- thank you again for everything. The cards, comments, ect really make our day. You all are our wonderful support system. I hope all my blogbuds will forgive me for not making it to their posts to comment. I would love to catch up as soon as I can.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The one where we almost get to leave ICU...
Sorry I didn't blog yesterday, but honestly, I was so exhausted that I started to doze off while writing my facebook update. My hands kept going though and typing random letters. It was weird. Mike said just to type "still alive" and let it go, but I know people would like more than that. Again thank you for all of the well-wishes, offers of prayers and support. It is helping just to know you care. I read Mike all the wonderful wall posts and comments on Facebook and the comments on the blog. I know he appreciates them.
Last night was our first really good night. Mike slept through the whole night. Which means I got some much needed rest as well. He awoke in good spirits and looking better. Some of the facial swelling has gone down and the bruises and abrasions are looking better. He still looks like hell, but compared to Friday night, he looks great.
His hemoglobin is rising, so the theory is that the adrenal laceration has clotted itself and no surgery is required. They told him he could try getting out of bed today. Moving around will help in so many ways! About 11, he fell in to a very deep sleep. Nothing woke him. In fact, the nurse had to yell to get him to wake up. At first we thought it was the pain shot he'd gotten. He managed to get up and then sit in a recliner by the bed. But he just seemed off to me. Very quiet and withdrawn. He said he had no energy. It was because he had spiked a fever again. The order for room transfer was scrapped and we remain in the ICU battling what could be an infection. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how serious that could be for someone who just lost their spleen. And so, I will again be keeping the midnight vigil. Monitoring his vitals and his fever. And hoping that it's not serious.
Some days it feels like he comes one step forward and then we take one step back. I know that he will recover. I know that he will survive. But we have a long road ahead of us.
Hildi is coming tomorrow and I can't wait. It will be so good to have her here for a bit. The kids are holding up well. I'm not sure what I'd do without them. I am getting tired of sharing a restroom with 50,000 strangers. Um. Ew. But the shower room is not so bad. Especially when our favorite nurse tells housekeeping to clean it for me and there's hot water. But of course, I won't leave him and go home. So I just tell myself "it's like camping, right?"
On watch again,
♥Spot
Sorry this was short, but I'm exhausted!
Here is a link where you can send Mike and e-card and the hospital will print it out and give it to us. http://www.blessinghospital.org/egreeting
Last night was our first really good night. Mike slept through the whole night. Which means I got some much needed rest as well. He awoke in good spirits and looking better. Some of the facial swelling has gone down and the bruises and abrasions are looking better. He still looks like hell, but compared to Friday night, he looks great.
His hemoglobin is rising, so the theory is that the adrenal laceration has clotted itself and no surgery is required. They told him he could try getting out of bed today. Moving around will help in so many ways! About 11, he fell in to a very deep sleep. Nothing woke him. In fact, the nurse had to yell to get him to wake up. At first we thought it was the pain shot he'd gotten. He managed to get up and then sit in a recliner by the bed. But he just seemed off to me. Very quiet and withdrawn. He said he had no energy. It was because he had spiked a fever again. The order for room transfer was scrapped and we remain in the ICU battling what could be an infection. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how serious that could be for someone who just lost their spleen. And so, I will again be keeping the midnight vigil. Monitoring his vitals and his fever. And hoping that it's not serious.
Some days it feels like he comes one step forward and then we take one step back. I know that he will recover. I know that he will survive. But we have a long road ahead of us.
Hildi is coming tomorrow and I can't wait. It will be so good to have her here for a bit. The kids are holding up well. I'm not sure what I'd do without them. I am getting tired of sharing a restroom with 50,000 strangers. Um. Ew. But the shower room is not so bad. Especially when our favorite nurse tells housekeeping to clean it for me and there's hot water. But of course, I won't leave him and go home. So I just tell myself "it's like camping, right?"
On watch again,
♥Spot
Sorry this was short, but I'm exhausted!
Here is a link where you can send Mike and e-card and the hospital will print it out and give it to us. http://www.blessinghospital.org/egreeting
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