While things are generally very serious on the ICU floor, I am still one prone to inappropriate laughter and if it is really bad, then it is also really loud and cannot be stopped readily. Yesterday was one of those days and since it was the weekend, I had some new staff that I hadn’t spent much time with prior and so they were not yet accustom to my laugh. The Dr. had deadpanned a response to a comment I had made and it set me off to the point that all of a sudden, nurses were coming out of nowhere to see what the issue was and if they should be alarmed or amused. One could be heard saying it was just Sally (obviously, she had been my nurse before at some point).
I alarmed them again today when I tore out the room and ran down toward an end room. Turns out you shouldn’t run like you have an emergency when you are in an area where emergencies are imminent and frequent. Two nurses jumped up to see what was the issue before I realized that sudden moves such as that were alarming to them. You see, yesterday, I noticed that the rooms at the end of the nurses station face the heliport pad and I could see a helicopter approaching from the window in our room and wanted to go check it out from the newly vacated room down the way before it landed. Those copters are quick to come in, so I wasn’t wanting to miss a second of it. Sorry nurses, didn’t mean to get your heart rates up.
Ted had stayed prone all night and they were just flipping him when I arrived shortly after 8am. His gasses were not great, but they were not severe either. They decided to give his systems a bit of time to adjust to being on his back once more and planned to scope and suck out his lungs again. They wanted a culture this time to see if the staff infection in his lungs had gone away or if it was still growing. I was assured that the staff in his blood had cleared up, so that was now off the table of problems to deal with.
They had given him copious amounts of Lasix the last few days and the results really showed this morning. Where he was a little puffy before, all excess water in his system had been drained away and frankly, it was scary and disturbing to see how emaciated he looks. They have always warned that he will be very fragile if he recovers from this, but seeing just how little is left on his bones made that reality even more stark and obvious than it had been.
I got to stand in beside him on the bronchoscopy again today, and again, his morning chest xray looked to have more air space in his lungs than the prior days. He is still on 100% Oxygen and still in a so very fragile state, but they continue to try and are not ready to give up yet.
Thanks for keeping us in your thoughts and prayers.
3 thoughts on “Alarming Activities”
Good job, Ted, more air space and no infection in the lungs. Keep fighting. Such a great team of medical professionals working hard. Continued small steps forward – good news. PS your laugh is one of my favorites, Sally 😍 xx
Prayers for you and your precious Ted. It is shell shocking to see their fragile bodies in that state. Love your ole pal from long ago…laurie. here if you need to talk. Hugs and much lovd and prayers
Sally–I have read and cried through every one of your posts. Oh, how I wish you, Galen, and Devon didn’t have to go through this! As to your laughter, they say there is a fine line between laughter and tears, and your laugh is one of the wonders of the world. In fact, I was just thinking the other morning about how like your mother’s laugh yours is. Whenever I hear you laugh, I think of dear Aunt Joyce. That is a great legacy! You and Ted are often on my mind, definitely in my heart. If only we could replace your toaster (or TV) rather than THIS brokenness. Lots of love from an Iowa cuz.