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...