Honesty

To be honest, I always bite my tongue after posting such positive posts as yesterday's. I am VERY fatalistic and am pretty sure that the "fates" are a row of men and women in black robes ( a la Supreme court...or the movie 'Defending your Life' take your pick) sitting and waiting for the positive thoughts to be verbalized only to show me how wrong I am. (cue witch cackle) Well, today Jack was a bit more confused than yesterday. He thought certain people came to visit and that certain things had happened that didn't...I suppose that he is dreaming and he gets reality and the world of sleep confused. Regardless, it can feel like a bit of a blow. I do find thought that we need to measure things as weeks instead of days. As the days have a tendency to change at will...but if we look back at how a week was...well, it's easier to judge his progress. Tomorrow he may have to get a feeding tube in his tum-tum ( a 'peg') as he isn't eating enough to sustain his caloric needs. It may sound like a set back of sorts, but really we expected it. He has only been eating solid food for a short time (three days) and it's pretty unrealistic that after being on a feeding tube through his nose for 6 weeks, that he is going to be able to snarf his lunch like old times. Though, can I also say, for example, this morning, the hospital brought breakfast at 6:30am and no one helped to feed him. Mom got in at 8:00am and his breakfast was cold. He didn't want it. And we don't blame him. Plus, he is so weak, it's actually work to eat...so, it might be for the best. The only part we don't like is that it has to stay in a full month as that is how long it takes to heal. *sigh*

Seriously, guys, this is the hell that is ARDS. It's devastating. It's more than just the disease itself. It's everything that comes with it. If you know ANYONE who can benefit from this blog, PLEASE feel free to forward the addy. When you are dealing with this horrific experience, you feel as if you are so alone. If someone can gain some peace, or help from what we are going through. It would be a wonderful.

Love you all!

WOW.

Well guys, it's official...I can say it with all of the confidence in the world...Jack is ON THE MEND!!!! He is doing GREAT! I think, my friends, that we are officially out of the woods.

And, it makes me want to cry, laugh, and shout! YAY!!!

I will go into the last few days in a bit, but I wanted to let you know that he is doing tremendously...

Wow.

The talking continues...some of it makes sense and some of it doesn't. We should find out today if he has to have a feeding tube inserted into his tummy. The tube in his nose has been there for 5 weeks now and the doctors are afraid it will start causing problems in his sinuses.

We still need prayers and good vibes! While he maybe "out of the woods" he still isn't quite home free.

Speaking the Truth

For quite some time, we have felt paranoid. As if the stiff, white coat with the cursive monogram on it's pocket has known all along that Jack will never get well. That it was hiding the horrible truth of Jack's undeniable demise. We began examining the coat's voice inflection and watching it's body language for any indication that the coat's words of good tidings may simply be a cover-up for a horrible truth. Then, after words were exchanged, the stiff, white coat with it's cursive monogram would walk out the door not be seen from again until tomorrow.

In time, the IV bags mocked us too. Their shiny plastic packaging would fold as they emptied into Jack, making their once tight labeled faces into a sad grimace. And the noises the machines would make when they had spent their contents! As if it were OUR fault they were no longer full. And if the nurses couldn't come right then, the bags didn't care. They begged to be changed, getting louder and Louder and LOUDER...and then, right before we were sure there would be an explosion of some kind, the nurses would wander in and reset the bags. And, with that, we waited for it all to just start again. The walls begin to crowd. The floor's too-shiny-white is as painful to the eyes as snow blindness. The machine they use to MAKE the snow white floors roars across the floor day in and day out. They should pass out ear muffs to those who will be in a 10 foot radius of this mini zamboni. After 6 weeks in a hospital, you begin to see that anything is possible.

Anything...is...possible. And today, we hit another stride, a stride we were beginning to think was never going to come. For the first time, in 6 weeks, Jack spoke. The edgy silence that poked you as you sat in the quiet of his room, was broken! They put in a smaller trachea, and with a cap placed over the hole, Jack can speak!

For the past three weeks or so, he has been moving his mouth forming words that at times looked like prayer, and other times looked as if he was letting someone have a piece of his mind. He'd ask for things he never got because we couldn't understand him. He'd roll his eyes in anger or close them in defiance. It was difficult. We wondered just how much Jack was in there...or was he even in there at all?

His first words were his full name : "Jack Alan Huffman" A nurse asked him the questions and he did pretty well! He knew his birthday, but thought he was in Bloomington. He knew he was in a hospital and, with some help, realized he was in Memorial in Springfield. When the nurse asked Jack who mom was, he responded with a spirited, "SHARON!" He knew he had two grand kids and told their names. Uh...though...he said he had two children...both boys. *ahem* They set him straight! : )

Mom said that when he was done with the questioning and wanted to rest, that there was something there inside of him again that wasn't there before. Maybe a peace? Maybe he feels now that he is going to get better or maybe it's the relief of knowing he can be heard again. Whatever the reason, the peace was there. It was a good day for us.

Stiff, white coats and IV bags be dammed. Yes, we couldn't do it without them - but it's pretty clear that love, perseverance and stamina has a lot to do with it too.

I love you, Mom.

connections

I hope you are all well. I apologize for not posting the past few days. I have five kids here ages 7-15 and the computer becomes a precious commodity. *sigh*

Jack was moved to another floor. Something that sounds good in theory, but has proven it have it's own obstacles. As odd as it sounds, having him moved to a lesser critical area hasn't been the relief I personally was hoping for. I think that for one thing, his room in ICU, a room we became quite accustomed to, was large and had a nice big window. His room was right across the nurses desk. We got to know the staff. Now, he has been moved to a higher patient to nurse ratio. The room is small. Mom said it was called a 'pod' I'm not sure if she was kidding - but either way it's fitting.

Also, I think that he was becoming well in ICU - at least as far as context is concerned. He was being weaned off of his vent, while others around us were still struggling with their own vent issues. He was waking up while others were still medicated. The family of the man next door to Jack was having to consider turning off his vent as his prognosis wasn't good. And while we feel for those still fighting for their lives, it was obvious that Jack was getting better! He out of the woods, so to speak. In ICU, he was one of the "well" ones.

Enter intermediate care...suddenly, the strides look so small. Ok, so, he's awake. But, he can't speak because of his trach. He is off the vent but still on oxygen (and doing well!) He is still strapped down so he can't rip out his feeding tube or trach. But then, you can hear the guy in the room next to you talking about how cold his coffee is. You see patients walking down the hall and back. You see the food cart coming to other patients, but not yours. And you realize how far he has to go. It sounds so negative, I know. And we are so very thankful for how he gotten better. The nurse called him Miracle Man yesterday. And, it's true. He was dying. And he fought all odds! Every single one of them....

He obviously has a lot to work on. He needs physical rehab and his brain is still fighting for the lucidity he once knew. Sometimes he sees things as they should be. Other times, he is confused. And yet others, he looks depressed. One of the things we might have to face post ARDS is Post traumatic Stress Disorder, memory loss, depression...Yesterday, I took up pictures of things that would spark good memories. Information about his beloved Cardinals. I think that he needs his synapses to be reintroduced - like old friends. I am afraid that Jack sees this hospital room and the tubes and the trach as too much of a permanent reality. When, in fact, its just a stepping stone.

We need to reconnect him to the life he loved.

Scenery

There isn't a whole lot to do while waiting in the ICU lounge. The novelties that can be found outside of the 7th floor window have long lost their shine. The trees have certainly gained weight with their heavy green leaves dripping off their once bare branches - branches that were bare only a few short weeks ago! The pointy, granite top of the Lincoln's tomb juts out of the tree tops. How many times I have mentally shaved off the obtrusion to make a nice, clean line...it's a pretty clear sign a change of scenery is in order.

And a change of scenery we very well might get! Dr. Patel told us that when a bed is open we will more than likely be moved to the second floor! It's a general floor...a sign of getting better. Jack is more than likely going to be in rehab for awhile. On average, a patient loses 3% of muscle mass a day when in the hospital. He will, god willing, be off of the vent for good now. He just completed a 24 hour wean. Can't get much better!!! The trachea will stay in for the next week in case something comes up and he needs it again. It's very touch and go...very slow...but SO much better.

I should note, that he had another procedure today. They took a scope and checked out his esophagus as there has been some blood showing up in his stool. They did find some polyps and are checking them out.

More later!

Update

The hospital called my mom and there has been no stroke and there is no bleeding in his brain. Tomorrow we will talk to the doctor about our next step. The agitation is a huge issue. Perhaps he just needs time to get the drugs out of his system??

I will update as soon as we know. Thank you for your thoughts and support. And your kind words about my writing! Maybe I will write more for publication, we'll see.

I haven't forgotten that I need to chronicle how Jack has gotten here - his symptoms and such.

Love, Becky

uncertainty is the only thing certain

I just got off the phone with mom. The uncertainty these last several weeks have brought into our lives is starting to take their toll. My darling mom is tired and stressed. I worry about her well being. I worry about her health. Mom is continuing to keep a constant and loyal vigil. It's amazing...

We now await the results of a cat scan done today on Jack's brain. Jack has overcome hurdle after hurdle. Day after day after day we think there can't possibly be another issue. Certainly, he will start to improve and only improve, right? Everyday we wonder what will they find today? What can go wrong now? The anger is circling in my gut again with no place to go...around and around...I'm almost too tired to cry. Instead, I find myself physically always waiting for the next siege.

The cat scan is to show us if Jack has had a stroke. His agitation is too much. He is always moving, rolling, trying to get out of bed. His response to stimuli is minimal. He's too confused. Too frustrated. It's another time of waiting. Of uncertainty.

ICU

Today was so similar to the past month, and yet so different. The same sounds filled the ICU halls. Day after day the machines all sing the same warnings - Fluid too low, vent not connected, blood pressure too high. Behind the tubes and IV drips, each person holds within them a life of memories. They raised children, fought wars and made their way in this world just as we all do. Most of the ICU patients can't speak because of the vent. They are heavily medicated and they mostly just rest and wait. I walk by and see them day after day in the same positions, with their eyes closed and their bodies twisted in ways to accommodate their illness. Here in ICU, the patient has little privacy. Their heartbeat drawn across the screen for the world to see. Their BP and vent information can be seen by anyone who walks by. ICU quickly becomes it's own club, of sorts. Those of us who have been around begin to pick up on protocol. Just from seeing it over and over, we have begun to know when someone has passed or will soon. And, we feel sorrow when these things happen. We get to know their families. ("How's he doing today?" "Is she off the vent yet?" "You're getting moved to 6! Congratulations!") We all march together in solidarity in our war against illness. We are all in the same place. The same hell. And when someone loses their fight, a bit of us goes with them too.

I believe that inside the head of the ICU patient is another world. Behind their eyes, I think something very different is playing out. I am sure they see loved ones. They smell their favorite pie or hear their children playing out of the kitchen window. I can see it with Jack. Or at least I hope I do. That when his eyes focus on something far away, or when he smiles out of the blue, it's a happy memory that is dancing in his minds eye.

He is awake but then again, he isn't. He is still trying to work through the endless streams of meds that have been poured into his system for the past month. He is confused. He is uncomfortable. It's difficult keeping him settled down. Mine and my moms role has changed from a passive role to a much more active one. We spent the day today telling him to settle down. To not grab his trach. To not try to get out of bed.

Physically he is doing better. ARDS is still resolved. His pancreas still flairs up now and again. No word as to when he will be off the vent. Though, he did a 7 hour wean today. No word as to when his agitation might subside.

We're just chipping away at the wall...and we WILL get through...

Todays news...

Jack is, at this very moment, improving. He is awake...but not really. He can take orders and his eyes are open but they are giving him meds to keep him from getting to anxious. He sat in his chair a good deal of the day and, at the time of this writing, he will have completed his 12 hour wean. Which is incredible given two days ago. They hope that keeping him in the chair and keeping him up will not only wear him out so he will sleep more soundly this evening, but will also acclimate him to day and night.

More later- gotta get the kids ready for school and I am exhausted. Beautiful day though! Here's to another good tomorrow!

Today we got a surprise!

David and I came to the hospital to see mom and, as promised, here is an update.

Dave and I walked into the all-to-familiar waiting room and mom was sitting in her corner chair. We have one particular place we like to sit at - our lil' corner. Sadly, it's become a home away from home. Anyway, Mom told us that the echo results will be back today but that no news is good news. If the echo shows that his heart is functioning as it should, than we still need to figure out why he is having issues keeping water out of lungs - but first things first...

Dave and I had been up at the hospital no more than 5 minutes this morning when the phone rang in the waiting room. The phones ring mostly when a nurse in ICU will call and ask for a family member. Usually, they need you when something significant has occurred or if test results are back or a doctor is there to talk with you...there are a lot of reasons for a patients family to be summoned.

When I answered the phone, she asked for Mrs. Huffman. Here begins another moment of concern. We have to struggle through these moments a lot. When he had his trachea, his CAT scans, daily x-rays and on and on. It becomes a knee jerk response. You hear your name and your heart starts to beat wildly. Someone want to talk to you about Jack...and you have to prepared for what they are going to say.

I stayed in the waiting room with Dave. My mom very deliberately, yet quickly, gathered her things and went into ICU. I buried my head in my hands, "What now? How much more can this man take? What do we have to fight this time..." I get angry at times like this. Sad for Jack, of course. But angry too. Every setback makes me fume a bit more. I'm not sure who I'm mad at, exactly. It just circles in my gut with no place to go. This time I figured they found something wrong with Jack's echo and they needed to talk to mom about it.

I was mentally preparing myself for that scenario when mom quickly enters the waiting room. She said nothing but waved me and Dave into ICU. She turned on her heels and quickly went back inside. I threw my bags on my shoulders and started to shake. I was scared to death. My mind was working like a computer trying to test scenarios as to what we were being summoned for. I was preparing for the worst. I walked up to his room and hesitated. I turned my head, leaned forward and what I saw astounded me. Jack...was sitting...in a CHAIR! I wanted to cry...and he was on a wean and doing great! I guess the doctors thought laying as long as he did might be the source for some of his setbacks. He is still on a trachea, of course. It's quite an event getting him in and out of bed! But he sat there for quite a long time. He had been given something to help him relax. He has a pretty good case of ICU Psychosis. It's common. People have a tendency to think that the nurses are after them, they hear things in the hallway that weren't really said. I imagine he sees some things that aren't there as well. Again, another typical occurrence. Especially with some of the meds he is on. But seeing him in that chair was a tremendous gift...it gives us hope. Me, mom and Dave were all silently doing a happy dance. (We try not to say too much or let Jack know how sick he is. So, we do alot of talking in silence and use a lot of hand gestures when we are in his room!)

His heart, by the way, seems fine (for Jack- who has heart issues anyway) and the doctor said that the fever and some of these other setbacks are caused by his pancreas still flaring up now and again. Nothing to do but give it time to heal...the doctor said that we are maintaining Jack. Giving him a chance to heal...at his own rate. The past few days have been so tough. It was time for something good to happen.

Heart

Jack is having trouble keeping the fluid out of his lungs. They are doing a echo on him to see if his heart could be damaged.

He had a difficult night last night. Jack's waking up has it's good and bad. The good is that he's with us. He can look at you, and nod and tell you he loves you. When your loved one has been stolen from you (which is how it feels) and he has been gone for a month, it is golden to know he is still in there. However, I must note, that Jack isn't awake like you or I. He has moments when I can really see his eyes clear and focused. But, for the most part, it's like he is in a completely different place inside of his own head. Like, he's awake...but dreaming. I wonder if it feels a bit like we do when we are half asleep. The bad side of his awakeness, is that in his moments of lucidity, he knows he is on a vent and he knows he is very sick (though we don't talk to him about how seriously) and you can see the sadness of his situation seeping into his eyes. And it is heart breaking...

David and I are heading up to see mom now. I will take my computer and update later.

Oh! And I will write about what his symptoms were too...what led up to all of this...

one step forward...two back...

I sense a pattern...good day, bad day, good day, bad day...So, yesterday Jack was off of his vent five and a half hours. They wanted him to be off all day. To be honest, from the beginning, mom and I thought the 12 hour wean was a bit much. So, we weren't surprised when he had to be put back on. This morning they took him off the vent for another day wean. Well, he lasted about 20 minutes. His blood oxygen dipped to a dangerous 72. They put him back on the vent quickly to get his blood oxygen back up. We waited. And we waited. Finally after what seemed an hour, it went back up...but they did a chest x-ray to see why he couldn't be off of the vent today. It seems there might be some fluid or congestion in his lung. They gave him a water pill in hopes to get any extra water out of system. There is a chance that he is over-hydrated. So, we wait. He is resting...

More soon.

News from the homefront...

Yesterday, Jack told mom he loved her. With eyes filled with love, he mouthed them to her...he knew what he was saying. He knew who he was talking to. He was here...with us. It gave mom relief. It gave mom joy. And, it made mom a wee bit less lonely for him too. It was a connection she has been looking for - that we all have been looking for. And, it came.

They pulled Jack from sedation yesterday. Typically, when Jack was under sedation, you could still wake him up. His eyes might not open but when the doctors would come in to check on him in the early morning hours, they would command a response. "Mr. Huffman!" (they would demand reaction with a loud voice that would wake the dead) "Squeeze my fingers, Mr. Huffman!" And he would. Eyes shut. Vent breathing. Seeming asleep. But he would.

Yesterday morning was a bit different. He didn't respond. It was quickly decided that it was time for Jack to join us in the land of awake once more (yippee!). They gave him a shot of something (insulin maybe?) and his eyes popped open. It will take a few days for him to really be back, of course. But he has made strides that astound me.

His fever is gone. The cultures so far come back ok. He did a round of antibiotics. He is off of the tylenol. And, the fever has stayed away. Dr. Patel (Jack's doctor who ROCKS!) said he just doesn't know what caused it. Wha? To be honest, that confuses me. But, we'll fry that fish some other day.

Right now, today, we're watching the monitors diligently. Our eyes fly up to the monitor as soon as we walk into the door and we sit watching it like a riveting TV show. We did this anyway, of course. But today, even more so...why, you ask??? Because today Jack is OFF of the vent ALL DAY! YAY!!!! He'll be back on tonight so he can sleep - but, if his blood oxygen stays up (hence the monitor watching) than it's yet another great stride in moving from ICU!

The doctor said that Jacks ARDS has resolved itself. The threat of ARDS has passed! His lungs actually look good. But, we have to remember that complications begat complications. His digestive tract has gotten sleepy, (he's been on enough medication that can help Doctors Without Borders sustain a small African village for a year. Plus, he's been laying on his back for a month...) so, we are tackling that too.

All in all, we're doing good...keep the good vibes coming!

posting update

I *think* I fixed the posting issue. If you still can't post, lemme know via my aol account or facebook and I'll keep working on it. I'm new to this blog stuff, dontchaknow...leaving soon to go to the hospital. Will let everyone know what's going on when I can. Also, if you want to leave a message for mom, post it on this blog and I will get it to her. She doesn't check her own mail right now.

Also, if you know anyone who would like to be in the know that I can't reach via FB, please send my blog addy to them. Thank you!

Sigh...

Go Forward With Courage
When you are in doubt, be still, and wait;
when doubt no longer exists for you, then go forward with courage.
So long as mists envelop you, be still;
be still until the sunlight pours through and dispels the mists
–as it surely will.
Then act with courage.

Ponca Chief White Eagle — 1800’s to 1914

It takes a lot of courage to deal with illness. Whether ARDS or cancer, MS or depression...

I am finding that doubt can silently sneak behind your eyes masking the sun with it's dark clouds. One day can be one of sun and joy, and the next day can make you feel like a ship at sea that is hidden behind a thick, gray curtain of salty mist.

Today has been one of those days that makes you the most tired. This morning Jack was doing well. His time trials off of the vent was going good. The nurse last night even said that he thought Jack would be down in intermediate care within five days. They started to slowly wake him up today too. We had been hitting the marks of progress and we were cautiously hopeful...

The doctor this morning said Jack's right lower lung was starting to get "squishy". I had said Jack's lungs were lazy yesterday. It's not lazy like, You-can-grow-crops-in-the-dirt-on-my-floor lazy. It's atrophy lazy. Jack has been laying for weeks now and his body position, the vent, his ARDS can all contribute to his 'squishy' lung. The doctor said that waking him, getting him to take deeper breaths, could help clear that area up in his lung. If worse comes to worse, he could

go in manually to open it up.

I mention this because tonight Jack's temp went up. Way up. This, of course, brings up his pulse and his BP. We don't know why, as they haven't had time to get the results back yet from the tests. Mom was going to spend the night but they sent her home with the promise of a call should it be warranted. Though, I am sure mom will call in the middle of the night to talk to the night nurse to check-up on him. It's another time of new worry and the unknown. The dreaded setbacks I talked of yesterday.

Maybe it's pneumonia...I can't even speculate on what else it could be right now. My brain is full.

Please keep us all in your thoughts. Mom especially. I wish I could trade places with her every now and again to give her a much needed break. She is so loyal to his recovery.

Off to bed to rest for tomorrow. I'll update when I can...

A Good Day!!!!

Jack had a GREAT day today! Ok, 'great' being relative...BUT his pulse, BP, Ox level were right on target! He's still on oxygen thru a trach and he's still sleeping but his bleeding with his trach was much better today and, while he stirred, he rested well. In fact, he did so well that they are moving his trial off of the vents to two hours, two times a day. When someone has been on the vent for an extended period of time, they need to be weaned off of the vent. The vent makes the strongest man lazzzzzyyyyyy. Heck, it breathes for him! In, out, in,out...Jack's lungs got lazy too. Lungs can lose flexibility. Weaning him gives him a chance to build up his strength both in his mind and body. Slow but steady...he has been off of the vent once a day for an hour a day for about a week now, so, it's a good improvement! As I said before, ARDS is a day by day challenge. This day has been pretty good...so, if tomorrow has it's setbacks I can look back and see that we DO have progress - regardless of how small. As is ARDS...



I have to say, once we can settle down I plan to look into how ARDS is being researched. Once upon a time Polio or breast cancer needed advocates. I see a need for both research and information, and I hope I can help.



Aunt Marcia and Uncle Dave came up today and provided a much needed distraction. Aunt Betty has come to support us as well. How WONDERFUL it is to have family! It makes it easier for us all. Thank you!



As far as commenting is concerned- Aunt Betty said she couldn't comment on this blog due to technical issues. I will look into it and let you know! : )

A good thing!

One thing I forgot to mention, is that Jack's x-rays are clearing up quite nicely! The ARDS seems to be on the retreat! As important information as this is, it can get buried behind the fact that we still have so many hills to climb before he is better.

ARDS is short for Adult (or Acute) Respiratory Distress Syndrome. It is not a disease in itself but instead is a result of another illness. I am surprised by how easy it is to get but how few people get it. I have read stories of people who go into the hospital for a fairly easy operation and end up there for months because they developed ARDS. I read stories about 16 year-olds who develop it from pneumonia to people who have been in major car accidents and develop it in the hospital. They have little idea why some people get it and others don't or why some people get better quicker than others. It seems that sepsis and pneumonia can commonly lead to ARDS. Jack had them both.

The doctor described it as leaky lungs- basically your lungs can't hold in the oxygen you need to sustain your organs. There is no medicine or magic in getting better. Venting someone and rest and the medically induced coma seem to be the best medicines. Recently the survival rate is 60 percent, before that it was 20-30 percent.

We cautiously hope that Jack has gotten past the major hurdles in surviving ARDS. This comes as a crisis. That's one of the hard parts.

Jack at this...second

One thing I have found with ARDS is that the good and the bad become interwined within a matter of hours. Jack will be 'good' one hour and be struggling the next. It makes keeping everyone informed difficult. I think that we instinctivly want to see Jack's ARDS like the flu. Sick Monday, sick Tuesday, feeling better Wednesday, strength back by Thursday, Friday we're good to go! But, alas, that is not the case...



Today, Jack is having a not-so-good day. His trach is bleeding a bit more than someone else's would. Jack is on blood thinners because of his artifical valve. It makes clotting a challenge. Also, his food tube in his nose has been causing problems. Jack is still in ICU. Week 4 will be this Friday...Monday will mark the 4th week on the vent. He is sleeping, sleeping, sleeping - medically induced as he gets very irritable and moves around a lot when he starts to wake up. It's a big concern at the moment...along with everything else. I had NO IDEA this existed and it robs people so quickly of so much...it's very difficult.

A quick note about Mom. She holds vigil hours a day and is VERY involved with Jack's health care. I have yet to see anyone so caring and so loving. She is scared, and tired and I worry about her too. But, she is strong. Stronger than I ever knew. I love you, Mom...so, so much.

As I know things I will post them - at least once a day - and I will also include information about ARDS so everyone knows what this is, as well. It's not well researched as it only affects 150,000 people a year from the US ( more globally) and has been, until recently, almost always fatal.

Tis' the time for bigger guns...

ARDS...Life turns on a dime...I have never heard of it before this past Easter and now consider myself pretty well versed on the subject. I can read a monitor like a pro. The vent machine's honking, the signal that the patient is 'coughing', is no longer foreign. Almost everyone in ICU has a vent and they signal back and forth all day. There are bells chiming and machines alarming. The nurses that work there are amazing to be able to hear it, decipher it and not be driven crazy by it. It's been almost a month since our journey and, I am learning in my research that it might be a few more...

In an effort to keep our loved ones informed and to help my mom out with her desire to keep everyone in the know, I decided to create this blog that I will update daily.