More Day 26 - June 26, 2008

Today was actually a pretty crappy day all around for Kevin.

I went in to see him at about 1:00 and the respiratory therapist came in just after I did and was giving him a breathing treatment. I know it's necessary, but the kid couldn't even catch his breath in between coughs. To add to it, physical therapy came in at the same time and started bending his fingers and working his hands so that the grafted skin doesn't become too tight. I understand the need for all of these things. The thing I don't understand is to be doing all of it at the same time. Each thing has to hurt. And mind you - Kev is only given pain meds once a day. So after a few minutes I watched Kev start to shake and shiver violently. And I do mean violently. I also watched his temp go from 38.4 to 39.1 in the span of 5 minutes or so. I was so scared. I thought that this was the end. That he was having some kind of panic attack and he was going to die. I was so incredibly scared.

I called the nurse in and she had everyone leave and we threw a heating blanket on him to stop the shakes. Because he was also being given blood, they had to send a culture to see if he was having a reaction to the transfusion. He wasn't - I honestly think he was just in a lot of pain from having it all go on at once and his body was reacting to it.

I was then shocked that they decided to do the spinal tap a half hour after this happened. I guess the labs showed that it wasn't a reaction to the blood and that his blood was finally thick enough. I am so glad that they got the test done, but poor Kevin. He was really put through the wringer - and at this point, it was only 3pm.

We weren't allowed back in until the 8pm visiting hour so I did go to a very nice dinner with a group of wounded warriors and an organization that came into town to spread some love. (no names but they have posted a comment within the last few days). I have to admit that I had a nice meal at Olive Garden and everyone was so incredibly nice, but I was a little frazzled from what all had been going on with Kev during the day. I can honestly say that I wasn't at my best.

So I went back to the hospital from 8-10 and when the nurse came out to get me, Kevin chose that moment to roll his head to the left. To my knowledge - he has not done that at all in the last 26 days. And as an FYI - he can in no way lay on that side of his head. His skull was removed and he has massive swelling on that side. The nurse and I hurried in to turn him back to his right side and we finally got him wedged correctly. After a few minutes though, I realized that the gauze was dripping on his left side. I asked his nurse and when she came in we worked at changing the gauze. After only a few minutes - the next piece was also soaked and dripping. I think we both realized at that moment that the fluid was coming out of his head. (OK - she probably realized it earlier but was too tactful to mention it to me). She went to call the doc and she came in and saw that it was indeed dripping from the stapled area of his head. She, in turn, called the neurologist and at that point the doc came in and added 3 more staples to the side of his head.

Now let me tell you - that is not something to watch. It killed me to see it because they didn't even give him anything for pain. The poor kid jerked in pain each time she did it. I just sat over on the garbage can and just cried. I kept saying "it's ok, Kev", but inside I really don't think it is. I feel so down tonight. It was just such a horrible day. And I am sitting here trying to cry quietly because my mom is sleeping and I don't want to wake her.

It was also just so hard to be in there today. Most days I honestly can handle it. but today was so hard. Probably because he was just not having a good day. But part of it is because his left eye (remember the right one is stitched shut) was wide open today. I kept thinking he could see me and I would get right down close to him and talk to him like he understood, and then I would move and his pupil wouldn't. I would then realize that he doesn't see me at all.

And of course, this makes me think he may never see me at all. He may never wake up. And I was told yesterday that it's never good for a patient such as Kevin to be put in a nursing home. A NURSING HOME? I hadn't even thought of that. I'm not even sure I can think of it. But seriously - am I strong enough to do this for the rest of my life? Am I strong enough to sit and talk to my son and think he is seeing me and hearing me only to realize that he isn't? Can I honestly do this for years and years if I need to?

I guess I will answer that question with a very weak sounding 'yes'. And maybe tomorrow that 'yes' will be a little bit louder...