Intensive Care

On Monday evening Jen was given a combination of medications, when combined caused her to completely crash.  Jen was completely out of it, unable to remain conscious, eyes in different directions.  I spent 20 minutes keeping her awake, talking about how we met, our life together, our kids.

The Drs conferred, Jen needed to get to the ICU, FAST.  As they were wheeling her out of the room, they asked me if they had the directive to intubate her if necessary.  Wanting her to be alive for her father and her kids, I said yes.

And then I made that dreaded call that no one wants to make.  To her father to come down, and to my parents to bring the kids, NOW.  I thought time had run out, and prayed that they could get here in time on New Year’s eve.

When they got her to the ICU they did not intubate her.  They analyzed the various number s and symptoms and decided that it was the combination of medications that had overly sedated her and dropped her respiratory rate so low despite the low oxygen level.  They administered an opiate blocker that instantly revived her from overdosed to fully awake and fully aware of everything going on.  I’ve never seen anything like it, and I never want to see it again.

But based on her condition, we still believed that time was short.  I had to tell the kids that Mom might not have much time left.  The single most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.

The girls and the parents were shuffled in and spent time with her.  By the end of the night, Jen was doing better (a relative term), and it was determined that she would not pass immediately.  Exhausted, everybody headed to our place in Franklin. 

I walked everyone back to their cars with the assurance that I would contact them if anything changed good or bad, and that everyone should come back in the  morning to see Jen again. 

I ran back up to the ICU just in time to give her a kiss at new years.  A moment I’ll never forget.

On Tuesday we meet with Dr.Santana and he gave us the bad news.  During the 2 week timeframe that Jen had been off the crizotinib during the brain radiation treatment, the tumors have progressed.  It was determined that Jen should receive a treatment of standard chemotherapy (in addition to the crizotinib) to try to knock back the tumors.  If the chemo can affect the cancer, there's a chance to get her in another clinical trial.

Jen spent the next three days in the ICU.  Her plural effusions have been drained numerous times.  And during that time, she recovered from the imminent danger.  She was transferred back to the general lung patient floor on Thursday.  Her lung function is returning slowly.  Very slowly.   But just as importantly, she’s getting a LOT of sleep.  She was incredibly sleep deprived in the ICU, being poked, examined, and medicated every hour for 3 days.

So here we are again, in another hospital room.  But it’s all the same.  I’ve got nothing but prayer to effect the situation.  The ups, the downs, the endless hours of waiting and hoping here are tough.

The next few days will determine if Jen gets to come home.  If her lung function comes up and her oxygen requirements go down, maybe, just maybe, she can come home.  The alternative is uncomfortable to ponder.  Today, we had a very serious discussion of how hard she’s got to fight this and how I’m here with every step.  She’s far from giving up.  We’re far from giving up.