was full of so many ups and downs. The visits could find good or bad news. The infectious disease dr. told me we were in for a marathon, and we were only about 2 steps into it. It felt just like that.
December 9th brought good news in that the hole in her long looked a “little” better. They kept trying to decide about her being on the paralytic. She finally got a centralize, so no more IV sticks. She would follow my voice with her eyes, she kept trying to talk, and would get more agitated. I kept trying to assure her she was going to be okay, Madelyn was okay, and we loved and needed her.
December 10th was going well. Her white cell count was lower, kidney function was better, handling more oxygen on her own, and lung x-ray was okay. They had her the most awake I had seen her since she was put on the vent. I knew she would need to wake up, but the visits were excruciating. Her eyes just pleaded with me for some help; she needed some explanation of what was happening. She would get so agitated that her heart rate would go up and her breathing would become harder. Almost like she did better without me.
December 11th brought no real changes, except for scheduling her surgery sometime in the next few days. The surgeon didn’t say she wouldn’t survive surgery, but that there was a good chance she wouldn’t survive. He wanted me to know the odds were against us. They were having a very hard time keeping her sedated. When I visited, she would cry, cough over the vent, and try to talk. After that visit, I wouldn’t talk to her. I held her hand and just prayed. She stayed much calmer, which was good for both of us. She had 3 days to get stronger before her heart surgery.
December 12th meant we had been there for a week. I couldn’t believe I had left my house just expecting some steroids and pain meds and ended up in the horror of the ICU.
December 14th was hard. The hole in her lung was stable and smaller. I guess the drs. didn’t know what they were talking about when they said it was irreparable. It was healing itself. God is good. She ran high fever most of the night of the 13th which could postpone the surgery. Her hands are cold as ice and so pale. Her heart just isn’t able to pump the blood like it needs to. I remember trying to sleep that night. I just kept playing her life through my head. She was a great daughter, granddaughter, mommy, and sister.
Surgery would come early the next morning.