intended for informative purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice. Please consult your physician...

Last night as I was sleeping in my cocoon, I woke up to an annoying noise, and was getting ready to throw something in the general direction it was coming from. Before breaking out the violence, I decided that the better choice in this matter would be to stuff the teddy bear arms, I was given, into my external auditory canals to stop the ringing. It worked for awhile, until I woke up again and was ready to take my socks off and shove them into the mouth of the leaf blower across the room, but again, I chose the higher road and decided to save my skin by not moving and ripping it from the pleather it was firmly attached too (In actuality it was pure laziness). I found out this morning that the crazy lady with the annoying alarm that kept going off was Chris. It upset me to know that I didn’t actually throw some object at her (it would have been something fairly soft, no worries).

We went in to talk to the nurse this morning since the docs haven’t called us back. She reported that a few  levels in his kidneys we’ve been monitoring, to determine some of  the functioning, have been steadily lowering (bun and creatinine). We’ve been worried about it, but it’s been good new to see it decreasing. They’ve decided not to do dialysis today, because he is getting rid of some fluid on his own. I have been noticing his abs are starting to look like my 8 pack and I was curious on the weight loss. I was looking at the bed, in which I changed to the proper date and time one night as I was using the touch screen as a night light when I was reading. I compared the difference and did the math in my head (it took a little longer) but I came to the conclusion that he has lost 45 pounds. I was shocked, so I checked the math again (on my phone) and it was actually right (shocking yes I know, good thing my math teachers aren’t reading this to refute my math skills). This is one heck of a diet to lose that much in a week and half. I’d recommend a few different options if you want my advice, but we’ll save that for another blog. 

We’ve been confused about pops clotting, he’s on heparin (a blood thinner) and so it’s been hard to stop some bleeding in a few areas where needles and lines have been placed, but yet he keeps clogging the dialysis machine. We had a hematologist (that just sounds sweet) come in and he’s changed a few of his drugs. Since the kidneys aren’t really working properly he has stopped heparin because it metabolizes (breakdown or change chemical makeup) in the kidneys. He is now on a medication that is a thrombin inhibitor (basically it prevents the blood from clotting, it’s not a blood thinner, but acts like one). His Gatorade IV (TPN which is nutrition that I talked about last post, that looks just like yellow Gatorade) seems to be going well, and we haven’t had any problems yet. He’s going to be hyped up with electrolytes after this.

Last night, I noticed dad is starting to smell like a man because they don’t want to stimulate him too much and roll/move him so I helped clean between those fingers and who knows what came from between those things, but I think it probably smelled worse than my breath does in the morning. I told Chris about it, and she did the same thing this morning and rubbed some girly smelly lotion on his hands, and newly slimmed feet. She left to get a bite to eat and as the nurse walked back in I saw a look on her face as if it was saying “why on earth does this guy smell like jasmine blossoms?” I had to tell her that I in fact am not the one who smells like a church lady who uses half a bottle of perfume (yea you all know, you know at least one lady like that) but it was my step mother who used half the bottle of lotion on dad. I think it eased her up a bit, and realized I am safe to stand closer to than 10 feet.

As I was sitting in dads room today, talking to him, scaring the nurse because I wanted to turn on sportscenter to let dad listen to all the talk of the cavs, she kindly told me that she’s trying to keep things quiet in here (meanwhile two alarms are beeping  quite loudly) so his oxygen stays high (which is beyond me, how that works). So I obliged her request  keeping the radio and TVoff so she could enjoy her quiet time with the alarms. While she was talking to me, I began to realize how it’s hard for them to understand the way I talk, and how hard it is for me to understand how some of them talk. I’ve found myself adding a southern twang to things and when I do, I’m not asked to repeat myself. Now if they will only be kind enough to me to get rid of the accent then we may be able to understand each other. I’m sure as soon as I head back north, I’ll still have a twang and they’ll royally make fun of me, but somehow I’m ok with that.

We’ve posted a picture in dads room, with a little note below it, that reads “ this is the papa we want to get back.” It’s a picture taken of dad and his huge cheeser smile (probably because he just got through talking to me). You can see the life in his smile and eyes, but what we miss most is the kindness in his heart. We’re all ready for him to be back , I think we’ve all learned things we’ve taken for granted in the past, and how we want to change. Life is too short, and you don’t  know what tomorrow may hold. You may be in the shower one moment, and the next you’ll be in the ICU with 12 IV’s and a vent breathing for you. We’ve learned to give the extra hug, show the extra smile, take a little time and show those you really care about them.

Today we had the volunteer visitor nazi. It’s this sweet little old lady barely 5 ft  tall, and if you don’t wash your hands before you walk back into the ICU, you get the death glare and a stern yelling. I’m concerned that if I don’t thoroughly wash my hands, I’ll have to go out back and get a switch so she can hit me with it.

I’m kind of disappointed recently I’ve been eating more chick-fil-a and sonic than I have that good ole southern comfort food. I love those two places, but I’m ready for some nice southern cooking!

During the last visiting hours, I was in the room, talking to dad about random facts, and then the nurse began talking to me about different medications that he’s on and that he’s pretty sedated and probably won’t remember much of what is going on. I then responded with “so now this is the time to tell him whatever I need to, but didn’t really want to tell him?” She laughed and said that way you can say that you have told him at one point! The respiratory therapist soon came in and saw new pictures that Chris has brought in and here words were “wow he’s a loved guy” and “  he looks like a lot of fun.” We then went into talk about funny stories and memories that I have had with dad. I’m ready to have him back to his smiley jovial self.

The doctor came in towards the end and stated she was very encouraged by some of the reports that have come back. His ejection fraction (which is the measure of how efficient the blood is pumped from the ventricles) is 45-50%  which she was very pleased with. She said it’s typically lower after a second blockage. The typical EF is about 55%.  She also changed the settings on the balloon pump to where it is now only assisting with every third beat. Overall it was a good day, he’s highly sedated, so he doesn’t really respond or seem to be aware that we are here, but we’re back at the stage to where any gain big or small is great. We’re looking for anything to keep us encouraged.