We're now waiting for a doctor who has promised to come by and (probably) release Bill this afternoon. His magnesium drip is all done (I read the bag. It contains SULFURIC ACID! halp! No wonder it's "caustic" to the insides of one's arteries!)
We have a list for the doctor.
(1) We're requesting codeine cough suppressant so he can breathe and walk without doubling over choking half to death;
(2) we're requesting sleeping medicine to help him sleep with the cough;
(3) we're requesting a prescription inhaler in case he gets to where he can't fully inhale, which has occasionally happened;
(4) and I am going to ask the doctor to assign a value to the variables X and Y in this sentence: If X happens, we should do Y.
Bill's color is better. No more yellow, only a creamy pale color but some pink has returned. He said the platelets did that. I love thinking there's some nice person out there walking around who donated those platelets and helped heal my lil cowboy! God bless you, anonymous donor!
Then I got to thinking: if a person donated 100% of their body parts to other people (if that could be done) and all their body parts went to recipients successfully and were working in those recipients, would that donor be dead or still alive?
Bill said that was the weirdest question he has heard in a long time, and yet he couldn't answer it. It's like the Aristotle question: if you take a boat apart piece by piece, and then reassemble it, is it the same boat or a different boat?
You can see what happens in the minds of the entertainment-deprived sitting in hospitals for too long.
Love to all...
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Thursday, 2nd post of the day: No big news...
This is today's second post. No big news yet. Nothing more about going home, but now Bill has decided he really wants to get out of here, as they are being completely unresponsive to his requests.
Like two hours ago, he started asking for Tums or something to help him not vomit. Even though he's reminded them, they are ignoring him. It's not that he can't have it. They just aren't bringing it. In a minute, I'm going to walk to the Walgreens down the street and buy some.
Then an hour ago, he asked for cough medicine. Since he has coughed about 450 thousand individual times since I got here, he shouldn't have to ask for it, but he did, and has called in TWO reminders, and they hang up on him and simply never bring it. And he is asking nicely, through his laryngitis (he's still coughing his head off while I'm typing this).
Are they busy, you wonder?
How's this for busy: four of them are standing at the nurse's station talking about American Idol.
Wow. I need to get control of my little snotty attitude! Let's see if I delete the entire above post and write a NICE one about ponies and puppies!
............Nope!
Like two hours ago, he started asking for Tums or something to help him not vomit. Even though he's reminded them, they are ignoring him. It's not that he can't have it. They just aren't bringing it. In a minute, I'm going to walk to the Walgreens down the street and buy some.
Then an hour ago, he asked for cough medicine. Since he has coughed about 450 thousand individual times since I got here, he shouldn't have to ask for it, but he did, and has called in TWO reminders, and they hang up on him and simply never bring it. And he is asking nicely, through his laryngitis (he's still coughing his head off while I'm typing this).
Are they busy, you wonder?
How's this for busy: four of them are standing at the nurse's station talking about American Idol.
Wow. I need to get control of my little snotty attitude! Let's see if I delete the entire above post and write a NICE one about ponies and puppies!
............Nope!
THURSDAY Morning: Mystery Illness Unsolved
Here's what I've gotten from Bill so far:
The doctors are saying they can't find the source of the infection. And now, it's even harder to find, because the intravenous antibiotics have made the infection retreat. No one understands what he has or had (two different doctors told him that).
So they're thinking of letting him go home this afternoon, with oral antibiotics.
This seems somewhat insane to both of us. His lungs are completely full of junk, he coughs till he almost throws up, coughs almost constantly (the whole time I'm typing this, he is just coughing his brains out, and his lungs are bubbling when he tries to inhale), his voice is gone, you can hear every inhale and exhale from across the room, from all the lung congestion--it sounds like he is breathing through a wet sponge (and yet the doctor said, "Sounds great in there!" when he listened to his lungs! What?!?!), he's still yellow and white (mixed), can't catch his breath, can barely eat, and he's supposed to go home and the two of us sit at home wondering what the dickens we're supposed to do, if ANY strange thing develops.
Well, he's pretty mad about going home with a complete failure to determine what is wrong with him, and barely able to breathe, but I guess if his fever is under control now, they sort of HAVE to send him home. It's understandable, some parts of it, but man oh man.
So we'll know more this afternoon. His mood is "crabby" and I hope he just sleeps today. He is still hooked up to sodium chloride and now they're giving him a magnesium drip, as his magnesium is way off.
But you know what? I'm still super happy he isn't in "sepsis" as that was as close to disaster as I want to be any time soon!
(Skip this paragraph if you don't want to hear me whine about the other things that happened to me yesterday) I don't think yesterday could have squeezed many more thumps into my agenda: as soon as I got home alone from the hospital, really tired, I noticed my car was making a burning rubber smell under the hood along with a strange humming sound (took other car today) AND while washing my hair last night, the drain stopped working and the shower floor filled up. Plus the workmen had left all my doors open, cigarette butts outside on the rock patio, paint on my dog, paint on my dog's toy, clumps of white paint and white goo dripped and piled over the carpet AND the sanded wood floor, and they'd apparently practiced with a white paint spray gun ON MY BLACK DRIVEWAY then walked through it, so paint or something was all over my driveway, my mountain rock walkway, my stone entrance way. Maybe by tonight they will have cleaned it all up. Oh heaven. I would NOT want to do yesterday over again in the foreseeable future. But I just said to myself, "You know what? I don't care," and I walked away from all the problems and just ignored them for now. It was a little hard to ignore the insomnia from 2 am to 6 am, but, hey, here's a new day! Will probably be better...Whining ends here. For now. hahahaha
Love to all of you!
The doctors are saying they can't find the source of the infection. And now, it's even harder to find, because the intravenous antibiotics have made the infection retreat. No one understands what he has or had (two different doctors told him that).
So they're thinking of letting him go home this afternoon, with oral antibiotics.
This seems somewhat insane to both of us. His lungs are completely full of junk, he coughs till he almost throws up, coughs almost constantly (the whole time I'm typing this, he is just coughing his brains out, and his lungs are bubbling when he tries to inhale), his voice is gone, you can hear every inhale and exhale from across the room, from all the lung congestion--it sounds like he is breathing through a wet sponge (and yet the doctor said, "Sounds great in there!" when he listened to his lungs! What?!?!), he's still yellow and white (mixed), can't catch his breath, can barely eat, and he's supposed to go home and the two of us sit at home wondering what the dickens we're supposed to do, if ANY strange thing develops.
Well, he's pretty mad about going home with a complete failure to determine what is wrong with him, and barely able to breathe, but I guess if his fever is under control now, they sort of HAVE to send him home. It's understandable, some parts of it, but man oh man.
So we'll know more this afternoon. His mood is "crabby" and I hope he just sleeps today. He is still hooked up to sodium chloride and now they're giving him a magnesium drip, as his magnesium is way off.
But you know what? I'm still super happy he isn't in "sepsis" as that was as close to disaster as I want to be any time soon!
(Skip this paragraph if you don't want to hear me whine about the other things that happened to me yesterday) I don't think yesterday could have squeezed many more thumps into my agenda: as soon as I got home alone from the hospital, really tired, I noticed my car was making a burning rubber smell under the hood along with a strange humming sound (took other car today) AND while washing my hair last night, the drain stopped working and the shower floor filled up. Plus the workmen had left all my doors open, cigarette butts outside on the rock patio, paint on my dog, paint on my dog's toy, clumps of white paint and white goo dripped and piled over the carpet AND the sanded wood floor, and they'd apparently practiced with a white paint spray gun ON MY BLACK DRIVEWAY then walked through it, so paint or something was all over my driveway, my mountain rock walkway, my stone entrance way. Maybe by tonight they will have cleaned it all up. Oh heaven. I would NOT want to do yesterday over again in the foreseeable future. But I just said to myself, "You know what? I don't care," and I walked away from all the problems and just ignored them for now. It was a little hard to ignore the insomnia from 2 am to 6 am, but, hey, here's a new day! Will probably be better...Whining ends here. For now. hahahaha
Love to all of you!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Wednesday Evening: Slight Improvement
It's between 6:30 and 7 pm, and I'm sitting beside Bill in his hospital room (he's still in reverse isolation AND they added a "Fall Risk" sign to his door--the sign happens to be the exact same color as a banana peel.)
Anyway, let's get serious. He feels somewhat better. He has lost his voice now and can only honk out sounds, and he is still coughing, but his fever is down at the moment. Not gone, but down. He is still pastel yellow in color, and looks very ill, but has felt worse, and has no specific pain.
No one has used the word "sepsis" any more, so I think we might really be in the clear on that one. He's still getting round-the-clock antibiotics intravenously. They still have no idea what is wrong with him. (All this information I'm getting from him is second-hand, as I was out of the room when they told him some of this, so I didn't get to ask questions or clarify, etc.)
He says there are sort of two teams of doctors pursuing the source of his illness: one team is looking at types of infections, and the other team is his local oncologist, approaching the question from a chemotherapy angle.
He got the feeling that he won't be released tomorrow, because they said they won't let him go till the diagnosis is complete. He isn't happy about this because he does not like being in hospitals. AT. ALL.
He also isn't eating or drinking very much, but he won't admit that to the staff, for some reason, so he is only getting sodium chloride drip instead of any nutrition. His last meal was Tuesday lunch, when he had tomato soup and macaroni and cheese, and only a tiny bit of that. He's one stubborn cowboy.
Well, I'm going home for the night, and will tell you next time I learn anything.
Thank you for praying and caring. Love to all.
Anyway, let's get serious. He feels somewhat better. He has lost his voice now and can only honk out sounds, and he is still coughing, but his fever is down at the moment. Not gone, but down. He is still pastel yellow in color, and looks very ill, but has felt worse, and has no specific pain.
No one has used the word "sepsis" any more, so I think we might really be in the clear on that one. He's still getting round-the-clock antibiotics intravenously. They still have no idea what is wrong with him. (All this information I'm getting from him is second-hand, as I was out of the room when they told him some of this, so I didn't get to ask questions or clarify, etc.)
He says there are sort of two teams of doctors pursuing the source of his illness: one team is looking at types of infections, and the other team is his local oncologist, approaching the question from a chemotherapy angle.
He got the feeling that he won't be released tomorrow, because they said they won't let him go till the diagnosis is complete. He isn't happy about this because he does not like being in hospitals. AT. ALL.
He also isn't eating or drinking very much, but he won't admit that to the staff, for some reason, so he is only getting sodium chloride drip instead of any nutrition. His last meal was Tuesday lunch, when he had tomato soup and macaroni and cheese, and only a tiny bit of that. He's one stubborn cowboy.
Well, I'm going home for the night, and will tell you next time I learn anything.
Thank you for praying and caring. Love to all.
Wednesday noon update: Sepsis!?
I'm at Bill's bedside at the hospital, and he is one sick puppy. Still coughing like a mad man, and he's a yellow-white color and feels really sick.
He is getting a transfusion in a few minutes, and they have given him more xrays and more blood tests. He said they are doing tests involving lactic acid which is part of their concern with sepsis, or maybe they are saying he DOES have sepsis. He told me they said he has it, but when I read about sepsis just now, it doesn't seem like he has it, else he'd be in ICU. So I can't tell if he does or doesn't have it.
Sepsis is not funny. If you're the easily-scared type, don't click on the link below, because it will take you to a page where you can see how dangerous sepsis is, if that's what he has.
To click or not to click HERE ----> TO READ AN OUTLINE ABOUT SEPSIS
To get in his room, I had to go through "Reverse Isolation" procedures, meaning everyone who comes in has to wear gloves and masks and so forth, because he has no immune system. Hence, definitely no visitors.
Description of setting: He is in a private room (even reverse isolation has its benefits), and has all kinds of tubes going into him, and he is mostly not awake. They had trouble with his fever at 5 a.m. It started getting dangerously high, so they had to do stuff to bring that down. He has a west-facing window and can see the mountains of Boone out the window, very pretty view. Only he isn't seeing it because he just sleeps. And I'm not seeing it because I just sit here staring at him and his machines and drips and tubes.
Oh no. My computer just said it is about to lose this whole post. Which happened to last night's post near 11 pm. So I'm going to try to save it and try to send it. More in a while.
He is getting a transfusion in a few minutes, and they have given him more xrays and more blood tests. He said they are doing tests involving lactic acid which is part of their concern with sepsis, or maybe they are saying he DOES have sepsis. He told me they said he has it, but when I read about sepsis just now, it doesn't seem like he has it, else he'd be in ICU. So I can't tell if he does or doesn't have it.
Sepsis is not funny. If you're the easily-scared type, don't click on the link below, because it will take you to a page where you can see how dangerous sepsis is, if that's what he has.
To click or not to click HERE ----> TO READ AN OUTLINE ABOUT SEPSIS
To get in his room, I had to go through "Reverse Isolation" procedures, meaning everyone who comes in has to wear gloves and masks and so forth, because he has no immune system. Hence, definitely no visitors.
Description of setting: He is in a private room (even reverse isolation has its benefits), and has all kinds of tubes going into him, and he is mostly not awake. They had trouble with his fever at 5 a.m. It started getting dangerously high, so they had to do stuff to bring that down. He has a west-facing window and can see the mountains of Boone out the window, very pretty view. Only he isn't seeing it because he just sleeps. And I'm not seeing it because I just sit here staring at him and his machines and drips and tubes.
Oh no. My computer just said it is about to lose this whole post. Which happened to last night's post near 11 pm. So I'm going to try to save it and try to send it. More in a while.
Lost a whole post! Cowboy in hospital with big infection
I can't believe the detailed post I wrote at 10:30 last night got deleted! What?
Well, I'm running around like a madwoman right now, so I have to make this short and catch you up later.
He's in the hospital, admitted, for at least 2 days. He doesn't have pneumonia, but he has some kind of infection, and it's in his blood, and they are determining where else, and where it's coming from (he has been having bleeding and other things he didn't tell me about). Oh my gosh, the number of details I had in the post that got lost! Arrrgh! (Beth, get over it.) They didn't put him in ICU, so I'm using that fact to tell myself this couldn't be fatal. But I'm scared, because they said he has no white cell immune system.
His white cells aren't working. He is manufacturing tiny white cells that die, called "bands", and those can't fight infection, so the oncologist will have to help figure out the problem today. I'm at home right now, getting a bunch of his stuff together, then going back over there right away.
He can't have visitors at this point, because of no immune system. Everyone has to wear a mask who goes in his room, and he has one of those big warning signs on his door.
I'll write as soon as I get over there and get the news. His blood results take 48 hours, counting from 10 pm last night, so I don't think they can let him out till they know what kind of bacteria he has or whatever it is. He's on intravenous antibiotics, broad spectrum, right now.
So thanks for your prayers and for caring! (Yes, his classes are cancelled for today--I called the University. At last, he takes a day off!) xoxoxox
Well, I'm running around like a madwoman right now, so I have to make this short and catch you up later.
He's in the hospital, admitted, for at least 2 days. He doesn't have pneumonia, but he has some kind of infection, and it's in his blood, and they are determining where else, and where it's coming from (he has been having bleeding and other things he didn't tell me about). Oh my gosh, the number of details I had in the post that got lost! Arrrgh! (Beth, get over it.) They didn't put him in ICU, so I'm using that fact to tell myself this couldn't be fatal. But I'm scared, because they said he has no white cell immune system.
His white cells aren't working. He is manufacturing tiny white cells that die, called "bands", and those can't fight infection, so the oncologist will have to help figure out the problem today. I'm at home right now, getting a bunch of his stuff together, then going back over there right away.
He can't have visitors at this point, because of no immune system. Everyone has to wear a mask who goes in his room, and he has one of those big warning signs on his door.
I'll write as soon as I get over there and get the news. His blood results take 48 hours, counting from 10 pm last night, so I don't think they can let him out till they know what kind of bacteria he has or whatever it is. He's on intravenous antibiotics, broad spectrum, right now.
So thanks for your prayers and for caring! (Yes, his classes are cancelled for today--I called the University. At last, he takes a day off!) xoxoxox
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Update from Hospital--9:30 pm Tuesday
He's here in the Emergency Room, in a bed, in one of those little gowns with the gray and green diamonds all over it. I'm sitting beside him. They said he's almost certainly going to stay overnight. They took blood and a chest x-ray, so we're just waiting for the results.
I said I bet he doesn't have pneumonia, and they let him go home.
He is betting they don't let him go home because he thinks "they're gonna find SOMEthing."
Either way, he says he thinks it was the right decision to come here. And if he stays, I'll go home and come back tomorrow morning. I'll try my best to post more right away if we learn something interesting.
Thanks for checking in. Love.
I said I bet he doesn't have pneumonia, and they let him go home.
He is betting they don't let him go home because he thinks "they're gonna find SOMEthing."
Either way, he says he thinks it was the right decision to come here. And if he stays, I'll go home and come back tomorrow morning. I'll try my best to post more right away if we learn something interesting.
Thanks for checking in. Love.
Oh, No....
As I'm writing this, it's 7:11 pm on Tuesday night. His temperature went up suddenly to about 101.5, and he has shaking chills, his cough has returned, and he feels horribly ill.
In the past few months, we've gotten three instructions on when to go to the ER: Two doctors said 101.5 means go to the ER. One doctor (Dr. Torti at Wake Forest) said 102 or chills, go to the ER. Either way, I think he should go to the ER.
Dr. Torti said, back in later winter, that if, during this wildly strong chemotherapy regimen, his fever gets to 102, or he has chills, that if he waits two to three hours before going to a hospital, he could die, because he has no immune system, needs to be tested and given disease-specific treatment by IV (not a wild-guess drug, as it seems the Boone oncologist thought was a good idea when she prescribed it without having him seen or tested.)
Ohhhhhhhhhhh the angst is incredible for me right this minute. He's coughing like a mad man. I asked him if he is willing to risk death in his bed, and he said yes, he's willing to risk that, rather than go to the hospital. That puts the ball in MY court, as to whether to override his willingness to perish with my willingness for him to get actual treatment. Do I FORCE him to go to the hospital?
I'm seriously feeling like I'm going to freak out in about two minutes. I don't know what to do.......
UPDATE ADDED AT 7:50 PM: His temperature is rising very fast, now heading toward 102, called ER at Boone, are driving him there in a minute. He's shaking and so sick...thank you for praying!
In the past few months, we've gotten three instructions on when to go to the ER: Two doctors said 101.5 means go to the ER. One doctor (Dr. Torti at Wake Forest) said 102 or chills, go to the ER. Either way, I think he should go to the ER.
Dr. Torti said, back in later winter, that if, during this wildly strong chemotherapy regimen, his fever gets to 102, or he has chills, that if he waits two to three hours before going to a hospital, he could die, because he has no immune system, needs to be tested and given disease-specific treatment by IV (not a wild-guess drug, as it seems the Boone oncologist thought was a good idea when she prescribed it without having him seen or tested.)
Ohhhhhhhhhhh the angst is incredible for me right this minute. He's coughing like a mad man. I asked him if he is willing to risk death in his bed, and he said yes, he's willing to risk that, rather than go to the hospital. That puts the ball in MY court, as to whether to override his willingness to perish with my willingness for him to get actual treatment. Do I FORCE him to go to the hospital?
I'm seriously feeling like I'm going to freak out in about two minutes. I don't know what to do.......
UPDATE ADDED AT 7:50 PM: His temperature is rising very fast, now heading toward 102, called ER at Boone, are driving him there in a minute. He's shaking and so sick...thank you for praying!
Miraculous Cure
You would NOT have wanted to be around here this morning.
Poor Cowboy Willie was, in his words, feeling sicker than he has ever felt in his life, and was even thinking he might actually die. You have to know him to realize that he UNDER-zaggerates. I, as you know, tend to EXaggerate or at least fluff things up to their maximum dramatic potential.
But he doesn't do that. So when he said he thought he might be going to die, well, that scared the living Niagara starch right out of me.
So I grabbed the phone and started calling everyone medical I could think of, to find out what we should do.
Most everyone thought he should go to the ER--but at the last minute, his oncologist came through with a really clever analysis (winning back some of the points she lost when she was mean to us that other time). She decided that since he is severely immune-compromised right now, which would make the germs of an ER a real danger, and since his symptoms and fever and color, etc. all pointed so strongly to pneumonia, and since he was so sick that he couldn't even sit up, she just called in a prescription for pneumonia antibiotics, and all I ended up having to do was go pick that up.
Yes. Slightly weird that he was never SEEN, but I'm trying to look at the upsides...
Within two hours of the medicine ($116 for 7 pills--thank God for Medicare), his fever started to reverse--it HAD been going up and up and up before that--terrifying me, especially. And then his cough began to subside, his color changed from gray to almost normal, he felt like eating a little bit, and I stocked him up with Vernor's ginger ale, and tomato soup, and he is now feeling distinctly better.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh the thank-you prayer that I said after that! I was crying and blubbering to God so hard with relief and happiness, that I don't think God had the slightest idea what I was even saying, but I'm pretty sure He's good with body language, so He caught my drift.
Now the cowboy still isn't really back on his horse all the way, but he's sitting up, and feeling cheerful. And sooooooooooooooooooooo am I!
Thank you for caring and sending your own prayers up on his behalf. Your prayers are probably the ones God heard, anyway, since mine were all unintelligible. I'm not exactly stoic when things get dramatic.
Love and gratitude to every single one of you who cared enough to read this. We love you so much!
The Lil and the Will
Poor Cowboy Willie was, in his words, feeling sicker than he has ever felt in his life, and was even thinking he might actually die. You have to know him to realize that he UNDER-zaggerates. I, as you know, tend to EXaggerate or at least fluff things up to their maximum dramatic potential.
But he doesn't do that. So when he said he thought he might be going to die, well, that scared the living Niagara starch right out of me.
So I grabbed the phone and started calling everyone medical I could think of, to find out what we should do.
Most everyone thought he should go to the ER--but at the last minute, his oncologist came through with a really clever analysis (winning back some of the points she lost when she was mean to us that other time). She decided that since he is severely immune-compromised right now, which would make the germs of an ER a real danger, and since his symptoms and fever and color, etc. all pointed so strongly to pneumonia, and since he was so sick that he couldn't even sit up, she just called in a prescription for pneumonia antibiotics, and all I ended up having to do was go pick that up.
Yes. Slightly weird that he was never SEEN, but I'm trying to look at the upsides...
Within two hours of the medicine ($116 for 7 pills--thank God for Medicare), his fever started to reverse--it HAD been going up and up and up before that--terrifying me, especially. And then his cough began to subside, his color changed from gray to almost normal, he felt like eating a little bit, and I stocked him up with Vernor's ginger ale, and tomato soup, and he is now feeling distinctly better.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh the thank-you prayer that I said after that! I was crying and blubbering to God so hard with relief and happiness, that I don't think God had the slightest idea what I was even saying, but I'm pretty sure He's good with body language, so He caught my drift.
Now the cowboy still isn't really back on his horse all the way, but he's sitting up, and feeling cheerful. And sooooooooooooooooooooo am I!
Thank you for caring and sending your own prayers up on his behalf. Your prayers are probably the ones God heard, anyway, since mine were all unintelligible. I'm not exactly stoic when things get dramatic.
Love and gratitude to every single one of you who cared enough to read this. We love you so much!
The Lil and the Will
Finally Going to Doctor with the Cough
(Ooops. That title looks like the DOCTOR might have the cough. Nope. It's Bill.)
Coughing Cowboy Report
Today he has a fever already, even though he's been up a while. He couldn't sleep most of the night from coughing, and now can't breathe more than a few breaths without coughing a bad-sounding cough, and he admits that he is definitely feeling worse in every way.
NOW will he puh-leeeeze call the doctor? says I.
Yes, he said. Yes.
FINALLY!
I'll report on that soon. Thank you for caring about our Coughing Cowpoke.
Coughing Cowboy Report
Today he has a fever already, even though he's been up a while. He couldn't sleep most of the night from coughing, and now can't breathe more than a few breaths without coughing a bad-sounding cough, and he admits that he is definitely feeling worse in every way.
NOW will he puh-leeeeze call the doctor? says I.
Yes, he said. Yes.
FINALLY!
I'll report on that soon. Thank you for caring about our Coughing Cowpoke.
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