Day 11

I get to the hospital and wait to be let in. I have 45 minutes until the 7am banishment. They have done the puff test again and he looks tired and weak. I scratch his head staples, rub hsi shoulders put on a different TV station, massage his legs and belly. He relaxes during these minutes and I feel a bit bettter. The doctor never did ok the anti axiety or longer lasting pain medications so he never gota chance to really sleep.

At 7 I go get coffee, where they know my order by now. I have a reusable mug and they all know it’s medium dark roast no room for creme. I do love Peet’s coffee. I go outside to the table, listen to a message from my cousin, call the insurance guy (out of the office till Monday  and try the social worker (no answer).

I walk around a bit to stretch my legs then go up to the semi vacant waiting room to charge electronics.

I am finishing day 10 before it melts into day 11 or 12. I listen to Foo Fighters to release some rage and cry and type. A woman comes up to me and mentions she has seem me around for awhile (fuck me) and she wants to keep me in her prayers. People are so gracious and supportive. Strangers reach out and send their prayers, good wishes and support. I tell her Colin’s name and she says she will pray for me. I am grateful.

I finish up, go use the RR and head in to see him. They keep me out for about 15 minutes. When I come in he’s not happy. They are setting up for the puff test
and he does not like it. The nurse emphasizes it is really good for him and he rolls his eyes. I reiterate, it helps him. He gets his look of resignation.

They begin to set up and a new doctor comes in. Tall, blond and she is like a sergeant  She immediately understands Colin doesn’t like what she called the “shake and bake” and told them to hold off. She talked about the tracheotomy, aka “trach”.
and all the risks and gave us the same information we had been given for a week. I FINALLY sign the consent forms. She says they will do it at 10.

Colin is asking,  spelling, if they can wait to do the trach to see if he can breath without the intubation tubes. I told him I doubted it, he needs to cough. Coughing will need to be a habit for him. Cough as often as he can. But he hasn’t had the chance to practice with the respiratory problems he has been having. I tell him we need to clear his lungs. To keep them clear until he can do it himself. He sighs and understands.
He is such a brave young man. I would have been in restraints by now, but he hasn’t been. His nurse this time (it changes regularly, can’t have the same nurse for too long apparently) comes in and takes vitals.
She asks what I do and I tell her I teach high school math. She responds, ugh, “Math is so hard!” I am stunned. Does it really take so little intelligence to be an RN? Then I recall in college in my upper division science classes, usually a biology or micro or physiology, many of the nursing students were not very adept at even basic algebra. For fuck sake, this country is so willing to live in mediocracy. And we are headed towards
idiocrasy at lighting speed. I realize, I am smarter than most of the people in the hospital, simply because I do math. There isn’t anything I cannot figure out, no problem I cannot solve, no information I cannot assimilate (including rocket science.. pretty basic actually) and no bullshit I cannot see through.

When they do the trach they will do another “brach” aka brachioscopy, and clean out his right lung. A feeding tube will be put in to make sure he is getting enough calories. At 10 the brach technician shows upand sets up. At 10:20 she is waiting and Colin is stressing out. He spells that he wants to get started, he’s anxious, how much longer?

I go inquire, knowing the answers is always, “we are waiting for the rest of the team.” I am told “we are waiting for the rest fo the team”. I mention he is getting stressed and the docotr orders something to calm him.

By 10:25 everything is moving in, they are prepping him, getting him sedated, and sending me away. I tickle his toes on my way out always hoping for some response.

I go down and call the social service and sign him up for medical. I have a list of things to get to him and he sends me away with a binder of papers.

I head over to the therapists office where I need to get a medical release. When Colin was struggling with addiction, my husband and I went to a therapist to help us cope with the strain on our marriage. We saw her for about 18 months and after Colin finished rehab, was working and in school, we were graduated to “as needed” basis.
I really needed her now.
I arrived early and spent 10 minutes gathering the trash in Ian’s car. They typical young college man accumulation. After my session (the first of many) I went and got a $5 car wash and was able to vacuum the car out.

It was 100 degree and the ac doesn’t work in Ian’s car. I didn’t fix it since he lives in Santa Monica. I wish it was working now. I could tell the alignment needed to be adjusted also.
And the windshield was cracked, the back brake light broken. I was back in a car I had outgrown 20 years ago.

I get back to the hospital and Amber has been there. His father has arrived with his wife and they are in with him. Loni has texted me she is on her way and I tell her I will wait and we can go in together.
I use the RR and inside run into a very sweet, pretty young Navy sailor who has been around the ICU for a few days. She introduces herself as Sarah, is there for a friend who had a motorcycle accident.
There were many people there for him and she offered support and prayers. They were on day 4. I had watched many many patients come and go the past 11 days and I hoped her friend would be out of ICU soon.

I waited for Loni and when she arrived we went in. The doctor told me the procedure went well, they were able to get a lot of stuck stuff out of his lungs and then reiterated (again) his inability to cough and move secretions out and the trach would make things easier. I said I understood and was going to see him.

Loni and I were at his bedside and he is asking for pain meds. His nurse comes in and says she just gave him some. He is very insistent that she had not. She states she is pretty sure, but she will double check. He is shaking his head, no she did not. She checks.  “Oops! You were right! I told you 20 minutes 30 minutes ago” Loni and I look at each other in disbelief. Isn’t it her job to know?
I don’t want to hear excuses. Does anyone accept excuses from me? No one cares if I’m busy or overloaded. I am still expected to do my job. I never have time to sit around and chat, use my cell phone and update my social media. I am not allowed to have my cell phone out because my students aren’t. I can only use the RR during the breaks we have each day. And no ones life is in my hands, which is why they  get paid the big bucks right? We witness the pain medication. He is hungry too, but is not allowed food in the feeding tube for 24 hours. Now he’s very unhappy.

We are barely handling this and some young intern pops in. He’s from neurosurgery and he’s there to take the staples out of his neck. The nurse lets him know it was already done. Loni and I look at Colin, at each other and wonder again, why didn’t he know that already? In the age of instant updates can it really be that only social status and daily events are instant? No one thought to expand it to the most important
area? Why aren’t patient information on a secured web database for instant updates? DOn;t give me the bullshit of “security”. Hire some hackers to find the flaws and fix them

I fell as if they are going to walk in with a hand full of leeches, telling me he needs to be bled. I want him out of the hands of these people more than ever. Not that it’s the individuals it’s the system. It’s inefficient, which makes
it ineffective. Old ideology old thinking, old medicine.

Colin is frustrated and he tries to spell something to me. I am not getting the message even though I am trying. He gives up. I cry. Loni is very supportive, reminds us both how tired we are and we will do better another day.

He seems comfortable and at 2:58 we are reminded we have to leave at 3. I kiss him, tell him I’m sorry for not understanding, I love him and I am so very grateful he is still here. I won’t be back till Sunday night and his father will be with him for the weekend.

I head out of the hospital without intending to return for the first time in a week. My friend picks me up in the front. She had retrieved my yoga mat from my classroom (I had intended to do yoga during my prep but ended up picking up an extra class). She drives me to Ian’s car and drops me off.

I go to my in laws to pick up some stuff, she feeds me some amazing homemade vegetarian soup, and I go over to a friends house to transition into normalcy.
My husband meets me there and they let us crash their evening, feeding us, visiting and allowing me to let go of the hospital, get rid of the daze and get ready to be at home without my boy.