mike's pneumonia chronicles #4

Rochelle from Costco and her boyfriend Greg came over tonight. They brought food, made dinner, did the dishes, bathed and read stories to Joey and Julia (who both wanted them to spend the night.)

Mike is stable, and in the words of the pulmonologist Dr. Kumar today, "the same." I was slow to get ready this morning... I stayed in bed a little longer than usual. Millie, my neighbor from across the street came over at 8:00 to help if there was any help needed with Joey and Julia. She told me she would come, and she did. She is so wonderful.

As I was not even dressed yet, I asked if she would drive Joey and Julia to preschool. She took them in Mike's car. I laid down for a few more minutes, but then I took a shower and started to just get ready for the day slowly. Adriana came by, and I told her about what was going on with Mike in detail. She tearfully prayed for us and was very sympathetic.

I hadn't had any coffee, so I went over to Doug and Millie's where I slowly drank coffee and had some cantaloupe with them. I also made a call to the school district trying to get myself signed up for family medical leave. It was good and relaxing to be with them in their home for some time, to feel cared for, to feel nurtured. I am so blessed to have them as my neighbors. I don't know what I would have done without them on Thursday morning.

I got to the ICU close to noon today. Mikes O2 was set on 100% still, and his blood saturation level was hovering between 94-96 (which is great.) There are other numbers (blood gasses) that are more accurate, and I am not sure that the blood gas indicated that same good level. Some of my mind is in a fog.

The ICU nurse was very clinical. She was talking about the health condition of Mike as if he were just a slab lying there on the bed. I had a positive attitude all of the early afternoon... I talked to Mike, I held his hand, I sang to him, I kissed his forehead, I prayed for oxygen to go into his blood. I am still praying for the hole in his lung to heal, for his lungs to expand and contract with elasticity, for the bacteria to lose its hold and disappear. So much of this is SO frightening. I was devastated by a very little comment about a number that was just really bad related to the pressure in Mike's lungs. The nurse said it so clinically, so matter-of-factly that I just immediately felt a tingling twinge inside followed by what I can only most accurately call an anxiety attack. I had an immediate flashback to the feeling I had Thursday morning in the car on my way to Kaiser. It isn't butterflies in the stomach, it is like painful and nauseating butterflies in the stomach coupled with pain in all of the muscles in my neck, shoulders and back.

The new Rabbi Suzanne Singer from Temple Beth El happened to be there with me when all of this happened a little after 3:00 p.m. She was so supportive and loving to me, I am so glad she was there because otherwise I would have been alone when this crisis occurred inside of me. We left, I told Mike that I love him and will see him later, and then I broke down outside the room. The Rabbi went with me first to just go have some coffee, then to talk to a social worker (Sondra) with me. The Rabbi spoke for me because I was very upset. She very eloquently explained what had increased my anxiety and caused this "attack" and the social worker was going to talk to the charge nurse and request that I have more interpersonally compassionate nurses with Mike. The charge nurse, Kathy, is going to try to oblige.

As far as Mike's medical condition today... like I said... the doctor said he is about the same. No changes are apparent from his x-ray, his O2 level is not constantly high so they are not turning down the 100% oxygen (this is not a very good sign) and today his kidney labs were elevated. The kidney labs were expected to go back to normal, Dr. said it was not a cause for alarm at this time because it was explained by the medication they gave Mike for his severe edema. I will ask later if that did improve.

So tomorrow is Saturday. I don't know what day it is usually and I have to ask over and over. Yesterday was so traumatic that it feels like it was a week ago. I don't remember what happened on which day anymore. I am not going to try to fill in the past - which day the second pic-line was inserted, the arterial line, the paralysis medication plus sedation... I am going to report only on each day as I can manage to do so.

The social worker and charge-nurse both hugged me outside of Mike's room. Sondra suggested that I try to go home, have a normal evening with my children, relax if possible.

I drove to the preschool and when I got there I think I had a full anxiety attack. I had dizziness and trouble breathing slowly. I sat down in Julia's room and the teachers brought me some water and crackers. Julia just continued to play. A couple of other kids stared at me. I had Ativan in my pocket and thought that I probably should take it, but that somebody should drive me home. They were going to try to get someone from the Temple office to come and take me home, but just then Millie Palmer the neighbor from across the street called me. I asked if she and Doug could come get me. They did immediately. They are so good to me, I hope that I don't rely on them too much. God put them there for me during this time of trials. I am not sure what I would have done if they hadn't been available to give me a ride.

They offered to take me out with them to the Riverside Plaza to get a bite to eat, but I was expecting Rochelle, I didn't want to be out in public, I didn't feel hungry at all... so they just brought me home.

What does this have to do with Mike's pneumonia? Everything.

What I cannot do, is report on labs, numbers, breathing treatments, lung pressure, O2 saturations, blood gasses...
I can describe what all of this is doing to our family right now.

I am a wreck. I am a beat up old rusty car with an engine fire, driven off a cliff, smashed on a rock, littered and grafitied with horrible dark paint that stinks. If I can live through this, Mike can. I don't know which role is more painful, but I suspect it may be the conscious one. I don't know his pain. He looks peaceful, his color looks good... his lips look dry and he'll have a hell of a sore throat and nose when those tubes are removed... but that's ok. A throat that hurts is a sign of life... and I pray for him to have that sore throat and remember it as the worst sore throat he ever had. I hope that you are reading this, Mike, and that you are just amazed at the time that passed while you were asleep.

I love you so much, Mike, and this turmoil, this trial in our marriage is a call from God to make changes. We need to live happier, less stressful, more fulfilling lives. We need to stop talking about our hopes and dreams for the future and start living them. I am starting with NOW. I know that this is a long process, and I know that it is crucial for me to be there by your side while you are in this state. It is medically proven over and over that touching, talking, loving, sending positive energy... these things increase the patients' strength and allow them to feel a purpose for making the effort; fighting for life. Those who do not have loved ones with them are clinically at a disadvantage, this is proven over and over by many studies. So, even though you need me by your bedside, you also need a healthy and happy Barbara by your side. If I can't pull myself out of this depressing anxiety and fear, then I am no good to you in the room. I am going to meditate on happiness before I am with you in your room, and I am praying for myself for patience, optimism, confidence, acceptance, grace. To the best of my ability I also will be proactive in seeking care providers for you who are themselves compassionate and optimistic, upbeat people.

Tomorrow, Aunt Linda will be here with Pop Pop. Pop Pop wants to see you. Your dad is really worried that, in his words, "it will kill him." I think that Pop Pop has been through the experience of losing a loved one more than any one of us, and he is probably better equipped to face seeing you in this state you are in - teetering on the edge of life - than any of the rest of us even are. For this moment, you are lost. Joey and Julia lost you over the last two weeks, I have lost you, your classes and friends have lost you. Only by the grace of God, this loss is different... it can be a temporary loss because there is a possibility that you will come back to me. Joey and Julia may hold you, hug you, be held by you again. You just have to fight off all these ailments. When I list off all of the things your body is facing, it makes me feel desperate. I just want to focus on YOU and your SOUL. YOU can conquer this seemingly impossible road ahead of you. You can make it to the top and back down the other side of this mountain. I love you Mike. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. You are running your marathon now, and remember that in order to complete the marathon without collapsing, you have to stop and walk from time to time. You have to sip water, make a pit stop, and occasionally treat a blister. But then you keep on running this road. I know it's hard, just keep on doing it. You have so much to live for.