Friday, January 29th, Part 2

They call me DOCTOR Jones!  lol  That's for Uncle Bob...  :o) 

Wow.  Where to start?  It's been a tough couple-a days.  Yesterday he was moved yet again to 'his' room.  Turns out he was temporarily in 1565 while they were spiffing up 1578, where he was headed.  A fresh coat of paint, new whiteboard and a corkboard.  Pretty nice!  BUT Dad doesn't like change a whole lot.  Or rather, it discombobulates him. 

When he moved from the CCU unit to Floor 15, his neato air mattress didn't make the journey with him.  Apparently this distressed him.  Repeatedly.  He called me at midnight:15 and let me know that he didn't have his good air mattress.  Yup.  This was late-night worthy all right!  After convincing him I'm sure they just had to clean it before it left the unit, (hey, that might have been what really happened!), we hung up the phone.  I could tell he wasn't going to go to sleep, so I called the nurses station to request a little sum-sum to help him rest.  I told his nurse that he had just called me.  First words out of her mouth, "Did he call you about the mattress?"  I laughed and said that indeed, that's why he called.  "Oh" she says.  "He called everybody about that mattress!"  Apparently floor 15 got a call from the ICU.  Dad, somehow, had called down there and wanted to know where his mattress was!  I told the nurse what I had told Dad and told her to just go with it.  Needless to say, he's sleeping on a pretty blue and purple air mattress.

Yesterday he had quite a day.  It started with a song!  Some of his fellow Fabulous Stardust Follies family stopped by and they filled the room!  They were working on a song from the show.  Dad followed along and even joined in for a few measures.  It was music to my ears.  Just as they all came in, the doctors came in for their rounds.  I don't think that poor intern was expecting to perform for an audience!  He did a great job, and it was so interesting to stand there and listen to it.  He'd give his report, the attending doctor would ask questions, the interns would answer, etc.  Just like on Gray's Anatomy.  After they were done, the interns left the room, but the attending, Dr. Bush, wanted to hear the Follies sing.  He stuck around for a song.  How cool is that?!?  I think it gave him a little insight as to the patient he was working with.

After the Follies left, we all stayed around for a bit.  When it was evident that he was getting tired, we left him to rest and headed home.  Later that night he called and asked if I could come down.  Ted, Katie and I were already out and headed to Northgate, so we told him we'd come down after a trip to the shoe store (Someday I'll tell y'all about my hunt for the elusive Dansko Professional Tooled, black, size 40).  I wasn't really prepared for how he was when we got there.  First, he was now in his private room, thereby enduring another room change.  His breathing was so labored, and he was so befuddled.  It broke my heart.  He just wanted to come home.  He figured I could do his tube feedings like I did during his first round of chemo.  Unfortunately there's more tubes plugged into him now, so I had to tell him that going home at this point in time wasn't possible.  I don't think he liked that answer and I'm pretty sure I'm grounded now.  Dr. Picozzi came in later and told him the scoop, and that going home probably wasn't the best plan.  It took some convincing, but we got Dad to understand.   We left him to sleep.  I turned off his cell phone and moved the room phone.  :o)

I wasn't sure what I was going to see when we went down this morning.  I had a couple conversations with the worlds greatest nurse, Pat.  She is so understanding and just a compassionate soul.  She was even a little teary when we were talking.  That's just the effect Dad has on people.  You just can't help yourself.  His bad night continued after we left.  He's just so fragile. 

When we arrived in his room, I was happy to see that he was much calmer than he had been, and that just continued to improve as the day went on.  They put him on a machine similar to a C-Pap that forces oxygen into the lungs, causing them to expand.  This helped him greatly.  They then did a thoracentesis (yay!  I got it right!) which is where they tap the area around the lung for fluid.  Gina and I got to sit in with this procedure, to help hold Dad and just comfort him.  It was so interesting, and nice to be a part of it.  It was Dr. Bush that asked us to stay and help.  I told them I expect them to knock half off the bill, for our services rendered.  He said he'd check on it.  I get the feeling he may have been kidding.  *wink*  They ended up drawing a little over a liter of fluid off from the left lung.  This, in conjunction with the breathing tube thingy really seemed to help him.  Unfortunately, when you have a lung that wasn't expanding, and now is, it can be painful.  They gave Dad some meds to help with that, and he was sleeping when we left.  We expect a much calmer night that last night.  I sure hope so.

So, there you have it - the last two days in a nutshell.  Again, the emotional rollercoaster.  I thought this morning we may be losing him.  He proved us wrong, yet again.  As long as his spirit still wants to fight, we will be fighting right along next to him.

We are asking at this point in time, with the extra breathing difficulty, that you hold off on your visits.  He's just always so tired, and it's hard for him to talk.  We keep telling him he doesn't need to, to just listen, but well, you know Ed.  That's kind of like telling me not to talk.  Good luck with that plan.

You all have a wonderful weekend!

Dr. Jones, signing off...