Day 10
Still in ICU when they let me in about 645. I have about 15 minutes to see how he is before banishment. He looks pale, stressed. The nurse tells me he didn’t sleep.

She tells me he had a fever last night but it spiked. He indicates he wants be to rub his neck. I feel the tension but the tremors have stopped. he seems irritable and angry..

He asks for pain medications, is told he can’t have any and he lays back resolved to pain. I continue to rub his shoulders till 715 when they send me out.

I get some coffee, call my husband, write some and research more.

At 830 they tell let me in. Respiratory therapy is in the room, doing another puff test (they puff air into his lungs, shake the bed to loosen stuff).

He isn’t happy about it. He doesn’t want to be touched. He wants to rest.

They start the test and have to stop when he isn’t getting enough oxygen. They suction out clear thick mucus and start again.

By now the doctor is out at the nurses station and discussing why he is having trouble. It’s his right lung now. They one they punctured.

The send me out so they can do a deep lung culture procedure. When I am leaving the nurse is telling me it’s his left lung. I correct her. The Doctor tells the nurse they are leaving the chest tube in and see how he does. He lets her know it is the right lung.

Once out, I call his father and my mother. I get texts from friends and wait. 20 minutes later I can go in. He still just wants to rest, be left alone.

My mind is on over drive. So many thins to take care of, so many people to contact, so many changes.And so very much anger. Not at life or any god. Shit happens. And this happened to my son. No, the anger is growing at the hospital staff.

I am amazed how indifferent these people become. Each patient is just another job, another chart to fill out. Many nurses show empathy, not many doctors.
The doctors on the critical care team treat systems. They may link the systems together but they never connect it to the person, to their well being, to their peace
of mind and contentment. It’s as if their treatment must be painful, uncomfortable, stressful and hard. I so disagree.

I still do not understand why the fuck they didn’t just sedate him for 2 days after surgery, feed him, give him meds to monitor and maintain his vitals and let him heal. Instead, it’s been non stop damage control over the risks that came to fruition. Do they just need to empty the ICU beds (there are not always full and I have been here long enough to watch MANY come and go quickly).

I may not have a medical degree but I believe if they had given him some peace and allowed him to recover he would be in a better place than today. Instead he has been stressed, in pain, been ambushed with tests and treatments that leave him feeling worse, completely exhausted and never given enough time to rest. I do not understand that.

The indifference is apparent in so many subtle ways. The loud conversations right outside patient rooms, the OCD control of rules that should be flexible given the circumstances, the talking down from the doctors as if their medical degree elevates them intellectually.

Most of the support staff, the nurses, technicians and even the janitors have been very good. But the even the nurses, you can see it and feel it. My child is just another patient that will come and go and there is no connection beyond the charting, the job requirements.

I wonder what kind of a teacher I would be if I did that. Treated each of my students as if they were just another one who will leave and I will not see again after my job is finished. I don’t think I would want to do my job anymore if it came to that. If I don’t connect to the person, there is no way for me to reach them.

By 1130 his friend Amber has come to read to him. She is always so loving and supportive. She is one of a few people he has had the energy to see. He still is not feeling well and so she and I sit there with him and around 12 some co workers and good friends come by so I leave him with Amber.

I vent my frustration at the damage control efforts of the medical staff and they listen and allow me to get it out. My husband and his boss, another good friend, bring me some lunch and after wolfing it down I call a friend’s sister who was an ICU nurse. She confirms what along road we have ahead of us and I am beginning to face the idea he may not get much better. With everyone always talking about him I must accept he may never walk again and I must work with that and make sure he remains healthy, strong and has every chance to improve for the rest of is life.

Back in his room he is still angry, uncomfortable and wants to just try to rest. He has not had a good nights rest in 4 days. A couple of respiratory therapy guys are in the room and are talking at the machine.
They introduce themselves and one is in training. They continue talking at their machine, right next to Colin. Colin is getting irritated. He is glaring at them. The experienced on looks at him as asks if he wants them to leave. Colin nods and mouths “thank you.” They continue to talk at the machine. He glares harder. The RT says he has such perfect display it’s s good teaching tool. Coiln glares more. I inquire if there are any other patients on ventilators in the hospital and they finally agree to leave. Colin again mouths “thank you” and rolls his eyes in amazement at their lack of courtesy. I give him the massage treatment and let him relax and rest.

I get a message from the insurance with a settlement, and I start to research wheelchair adapted vehicles. I get another from the medical worker to get Colin signed up for medical. I research recovery from complete spinal cord injuries and c level can expect one level of improvement. That would men his hands and breathing. What a difference one vertebrae level makes.

I am still hopeful. I am planning ways to exercise his hands to build strength and dexterity. I am creating exercise devices to assist in keeping his muscles strong. I research nursing care for the transition time between his release from the hospital and when the house modifications can be ready.

Amber leaves about 115 and he begins to let me massage him again. He is always in pain. He relaxes when I massage his neck and shoulders, when I scratch his head around the staples that held his scalp together.

After a bit he is finally sleeping a little so I let him, sitting in the chair, researching, looking at him, watching..looking for the miracle movement.

At 315 they banish me. I have stolen an extra 15 minutes to be with him. When I leave he is resting, albeit fitfully, and I go to meet my friend.

She takes me to her house, we talk and she listens. She gives me food, water and a place away from the now hated hospital. At 4 they make me wait for 30 minutes so I don’t get in until almost 445.

He is complaining about the puff and shake but he looks better. He still has a fever, is in pain has had all his pressure support taken off his legs. He motions he wants to spell. He asks for a sip of water. I look at his cracked dry lips. He pleads. I think, fuck it. I look for staff members and give him a couple sips to moisten his mouth. He asks for more
but I don’t want to hurt him. I go get his nurse. This guy is one of the few Colin likes. He seems to understand Colin needs to rest. He tells me he has asked for a different pain med and some anti anxiety medication to help him sleep. My first thought is WHY THE FUCK ISN’T THE DOCTOR DOING THAT and my next one is THE FUCK HEAD DOCTOR WILL PROBABLY DO SOME POWER TRIP AND
TAKE OFFENSE AT A NURSE TELLING HIM HOW TO DO HIS JOB RIGHT. Which of course, the doctor never did change his pain meds or give him something to help him sleep. Fucking arrogant asshole. I don’t buy the shit about “watching his breathing”. How can he breath if he’s got an infection and can’t rest. That’s what I mean about not treating the person.

I ask about the water and the nurse tells me he can’t swallow right with the tube, but he does bring me ice water and Colin can suck water off a washcloth.
So from 500 to 715, when they kick me out again, I give him sips, massage his body and talk about the future. I tell him about the first hours after the accident, which he does not remember.
I talk about exercises for his hands and chest and legs. I talk about his coming home and how we will never stop getting him to the next step.

By 710,the next banishment time, he has told me he is ok emotionally. He indicates he isn’t going to stop either. I get a sense he is as grateful to be alive as we are to still have him.
I feel better than I have in 10 days. If my child is ok, then I am ok.

From 720 to 810 I talk with my husband on the phone. I finally find a quiet spot with plugs for charging things, move one of the seats to the corner overlooking the town and chat. I miss him so very much.
I miss what our life was 11 days ago and how it will not be again for a very long time.

He is going to come back down tonight so we can sleep together for the first time in so many days. I am looking forward to that.

When they let me back in at 845 Colin is worse. His fever is still up, he doesn’t want any more sips of water. His neck is full of muscle tremors again. He spells that they
did the puff and shake thing again and he feels bad. In more pain, more exhausted and unable to rest.

I spend the time until 1030 massaging his trembling shoulders, scratching his head and helping him rest. I want to stay longer, but 16 hours is my limit. And I need to stay strong for him.
I need to stay healthy. I can’t let him down. There is no one else here.