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Friday, December 22, 2006 11:26 a.m. (sent by Gene)
Dear friends,
News Flash: Jay is out of ICU!
I just wanted to send a quick note to share the good news... Jay just continues to surprise...
on Tues. evening (12/19), she endured another round of complications that I was convinced would set her back. But Jay bounced back miraculously the next day, and then last night - after 18 days in ICU - the doctors pronounced her healthy enough to move to intermediate care!
Within the last 24 to 48 hours, Jay has:
* completely stopped using the ventilator; breathing all on her own. (She still has a trache tube as a precaution, but this likely will be removed within a few days. Should be able to talk soon.)
* started sipping drinks (water, Gatorade, apple juice).
* yanked out her feeding tube - for the third time! Nurses not happy about this development, but finally have caved in to Jay's persistence. They now say if she can eat enough food on her own and get sufficient nutrition, she can ditch the tube.
* ordered husband to fetch her a hamburger meal. He refused following doctor's orders; Jay not happy with husband.
That's all the good news I have for now, but it should be plently. Thanks for all of your prayers... they are definitely working.
I'm off to visit Jay in her new room...
Gene
Monday, December 18, 2006 2:56 p.m. (sent by Gene)
Dear friends,
Anyone who knows my lovely wife knows that she operates on her own unique sense of time, which is a polite way of saying Jay often runs late. And that may explain why her recovery timetable differs from our expectations. At least that's my theory. But if there's one thing I've learned about Jay... it's to just let her do it her way. Might as well because you know she'll get it done right.
It's been two weeks since Jay underwent surgery, and she remains in ICU. But I think we're finally beginning to make some headway and hope to move to an intermediate care floor any day now. Many of you have expressed concern about Jay's long stay in ICU, but rest assured, she's been in stable condition throughout. She's just been stuck in neutral; every time she begins to get better she runs into some complication that stalls her progress. Fortunately, the doctors have witnessed all of Jay's problems before in other patients, and they've been able to find a fix for them out of their liver transplant "playbook."
Last Wed., the doctors performed a tracheotomy to help Jay breathe more easily. She was having a tough time getting off the ventilator but since the procedure has fared much better. Yesterday, she breathed on her own for 6 - 8 hours without any machine assistance! If she can build up her endurance to go 10 hours on back-to-back days, she'll probably ditch the ventilator for good.
A few days ago, Jay's body also exhibited the first signs of rejection. It's a frightening word but something transplant patients will have to deal with for the rest of their lives. Rejection can occur at any time and it can happen quickly or occur gradually. The good news is that there are several immunosuppressive medicines that should manage this problem. The doctors gave Jay some of these meds and they appear to be working well.
All things considered, Jay seems to be doing better. Her trache tube prevents her from talking out loud, but she's trying desperately to communicate. Much to her dismay, neither the nurses nor I can read her lips very well. One day Jay was really jabbering, and I couldn't make out a single word. I suspected that she was in a drug-induced haze and talking gibberish. So I asked her nurse, "Do you think she's lucid?" And before the nurse could reply, Jay shot me an indignant stare. No translation needed. I'll pay for that comment later!
Thanks for all your love and prayers... God bless,
Gene
Monday, December 11, 2006 2:42 p.m. (sent by Gene)
Dear friends,
I’m writing this note, appropriately enough, camped out in front of a sculpture
called the “Wings of Hope” in the lobby of the hospital. A few art pieces like this are scattered throughout the building, commissioned by an Arts in Medicine program. It’s a nice touch that spruces up an otherwise somber environment.
I wish I had better news to report, but Jay’s condition hasn’t changed much since I last wrote all of you. Thank goodness, she’s not trending the wrong way, but progress has been slow and incremental at best. Nearly every morning, the doctors greet me with “Jay’s hanging in there. She’s doing OK, but…“ It’s this pause that I can do without. Usually it’s nothing alarming, but some indicator always seems to be a bit out of range, i.e. low platelet count, a slight fever, too much of this, not enough of that. I’m doing my best to digest all this info, but it can be an overload at times. I’m just proud that I can remember all of the doctors’ names… I’ve dealt with 8 of them so far; 3 surgeons, 3 critical care doctors, 1 hematologist and 1 liver specialist.
Jay is still in intensive care, primarily because she’s having issues breathing. The doctors assure me that Jay’s lungs aren’t damaged; they say her prolonged illness, combined with the trauma of major surgery, weakened her more than anyone could have imagined. Jay has been on a ventilator continuously for almost a week;
they want to remove this ASAP because having a huge breathing tube down your throat isn’t very sterile. As an alternative, the doctors are considering performing a tracheotomy. It should enable Jay to breathe a little easier and minimize the chance of infection. But it’s a surgical procedure… and the doctors would rather spare Jay another trip to the operating room if at all possible. The good news: If the “trach” is successful, Jay likely will be moved out of ICU and on to an intermediate care floor. I’m guessing the trach will be done sometime this week.
Meanwhile, Jay appears to be resting relatively pain-free. Good meds, I suppose. Yesterday, she was very alert and waved to me when she spotted me from across the ICU. As I approached her bedside, Jay waggled the ring finger of her left hand, gesturing for her wedding band. I’ve been carrying it around in my backpack and when I showed it to her, Jay smiled and gave me a thumbs-up sign. I told her everything all of her friends and family are doing for her, for our kids and for me. She smiled again and nodded. Jay may not be able to talk, but trust me, she understands your love.
Thank you again for all your prayers and good wishes. God bless…
Gene