Weekend update (January 8 & 9)
The best news of the past few days is that Dad has been moved from CICU to the sixth floor of the hospital, where they specialize in weaning people from ventilators (or so we are told; I'm not sure if this area of the hospital is specialized in any way, although it seems to be the place people go after ICU. There's a guy down the hall who looks like he was hit by a truck, another person I passed seemed really with it and physically able, but totally unable to talk, so it's quite a variety of people and quite a change for us after nothing but cardiac patients). They made this move late on Friday, when it was clear that his breathing with the oxygen collar was stable and all of his organs were functioning fine. We already miss the nurses in CICU--they were such great people, each and every one of them. All of them were bright, tireless, and had amazing senses of humor. I don't know how they manage with that sort of workload day to day.
Dad is still on the feeding tube, though. After initial success with eating applesauce, he didn't feel up to doing the second day of the swallow test (I'm not really clear on this test. I know it's a three day thing and if you fail one day, you're back to square one. I think a Google search may be in order) so they put that off a day, and then on Saturday they were unable to continue it because Dad started bleeding around his trache tube. They took him off his blood thinners to help the bleeding stop; it took over 24 hours--when I saw him on Saturday night, he was still bleeding freely, but on Sunday around noon it had stopped. In the meantime, they were doing ultrasounds to make sure no new clots were developing without the thinners. I'm assuming they will resume the thinners now that the bleeding has stopped. So once that particular complication is cleared up, they'll go back to the swallow test and weaning him from the feeding tube.
They did a CAT scan on Friday to check for signs of a stroke since his right side is still quite weak. We didn't get the results of the scan, but on Saturday we were told that they were planning to do an MRI today (Sunday) to rule out a stroke. The doctors weren't around, and the nurses were unable to tell us if this was good news or bad. We don't know if the CAT scan indicated the possibility of a stroke and so they want to do an MRI to make certain, or if the CAT scan didn't indicate any stroke took place and so they want to do a more sensitive test just to make sure. Either way, the therapy will be the same--long and difficult. Mentally, Dad seems to be quite with it. He can talk (after a fashion) and read (although can't focus long on anything small and difficult, but he could read his cards), and solve problems (today he said that his heart pillow - given to cardiac patients to hold against their chests to make coughing less painful - should have velcro on it so that it doesn't keep slipping off the bed). He knows who everyone is, and as we suspected early in his recovery, he always wants to know what time it is! When we visited him in CICU, we'd always tell him the day and time because we knew he'd want to know. Sure enough, as soon as they moved him up to the sixth floor, the first thing he asked was where the clock was!
Mom is eager to get Dad home, of course. She knows it'll still probably be a couple of months of in-patient treatment and rehab before he's ready for that, but this has been so hard on her. She's with Dad as often as they'll let her be, which means she's away from her home and her routines all day, every day. She's taken up knitting again and was busily working on a very pretty scarf at the hospital yesterday. A couple more months and we'll probably all have nice, fuzzy scarves.
That guy in the ICU waiting room that first night was right--we're measuring Dad's progress in weeks, not days. Even though I'm thrilled that he's out of CICU, it doesn't seem as big a step as I thought it might be, but then I think back to where he was a week ago, still heavily sedated, planning to get the feeding tube inserted directly to his stomach, and unable to talk and I realize this IS a big move.
Now that he has his own room, he has LOTS of bulletin board space. Mom hung up all of the get well cards he's received and, as I said, he enjoyed reading them. If anyone would like to send one directly to him at the hospital, I'd be happy to provide the address. You can email me to request it: sarahfranATverizonDOTnet
Dad is still on the feeding tube, though. After initial success with eating applesauce, he didn't feel up to doing the second day of the swallow test (I'm not really clear on this test. I know it's a three day thing and if you fail one day, you're back to square one. I think a Google search may be in order) so they put that off a day, and then on Saturday they were unable to continue it because Dad started bleeding around his trache tube. They took him off his blood thinners to help the bleeding stop; it took over 24 hours--when I saw him on Saturday night, he was still bleeding freely, but on Sunday around noon it had stopped. In the meantime, they were doing ultrasounds to make sure no new clots were developing without the thinners. I'm assuming they will resume the thinners now that the bleeding has stopped. So once that particular complication is cleared up, they'll go back to the swallow test and weaning him from the feeding tube.
They did a CAT scan on Friday to check for signs of a stroke since his right side is still quite weak. We didn't get the results of the scan, but on Saturday we were told that they were planning to do an MRI today (Sunday) to rule out a stroke. The doctors weren't around, and the nurses were unable to tell us if this was good news or bad. We don't know if the CAT scan indicated the possibility of a stroke and so they want to do an MRI to make certain, or if the CAT scan didn't indicate any stroke took place and so they want to do a more sensitive test just to make sure. Either way, the therapy will be the same--long and difficult. Mentally, Dad seems to be quite with it. He can talk (after a fashion) and read (although can't focus long on anything small and difficult, but he could read his cards), and solve problems (today he said that his heart pillow - given to cardiac patients to hold against their chests to make coughing less painful - should have velcro on it so that it doesn't keep slipping off the bed). He knows who everyone is, and as we suspected early in his recovery, he always wants to know what time it is! When we visited him in CICU, we'd always tell him the day and time because we knew he'd want to know. Sure enough, as soon as they moved him up to the sixth floor, the first thing he asked was where the clock was!
Mom is eager to get Dad home, of course. She knows it'll still probably be a couple of months of in-patient treatment and rehab before he's ready for that, but this has been so hard on her. She's with Dad as often as they'll let her be, which means she's away from her home and her routines all day, every day. She's taken up knitting again and was busily working on a very pretty scarf at the hospital yesterday. A couple more months and we'll probably all have nice, fuzzy scarves.
That guy in the ICU waiting room that first night was right--we're measuring Dad's progress in weeks, not days. Even though I'm thrilled that he's out of CICU, it doesn't seem as big a step as I thought it might be, but then I think back to where he was a week ago, still heavily sedated, planning to get the feeding tube inserted directly to his stomach, and unable to talk and I realize this IS a big move.
Now that he has his own room, he has LOTS of bulletin board space. Mom hung up all of the get well cards he's received and, as I said, he enjoyed reading them. If anyone would like to send one directly to him at the hospital, I'd be happy to provide the address. You can email me to request it: sarahfranATverizonDOTnet
posted by Sarah @ 6:12 PM
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