Seven Days And Counting

Later Saturday morning, after my last post, Ken was put back on "critical care status," which meant he was again hooked up to monitors for his heart, pulse, respiration, blood pressure, and oxygen. He had a CT scan of his chest which showed no abscesses or lesions or pockets of fluid. His doctors conferred with an infection specialist who changed one of Ken's antibiotics to one of the strongest IV antibiotics they could give him.

Then we waited to see what would happen.

Saturday night he had a low-grade fever that was gone by Sunday morning.

By this morning he had gone 24 hours without a fever...for the first time in two weeks.

Ken was feeling better and looked healthier. He started lobbying to go home this morning and tried again this afternoon. No go, although his improving condition again earned him an upgrade to "floor status" which stuck this time. Monitors were removed. Late this afternoon we were told he would be moved to a regular room on another floor, so for the third time he made a plea to go home.

The doctor on duty met his request with a challenge: if Ken could walk up and down the hall without oxygen and score better than a 92 oxygen rate on room air, he could go home. And Ken tried. He really tried, but I could tell he was winded. His oxygen rate was 86.

So he has been moved to a room on the 4th floor. He has the room to himself, and there is a bathroom with a door. The nurse brought in a cot so I don't have to sleep in a recliner.

I was planning to go home tonight...until Ken was moved. I decided to stay in case he was discharged first thing in the morning.

This evening he went a couple hours without oxygen, and I could see that he was beginning to fade ~ his eyes drooped and his breathing got shallow. When the nurse checked his oxygen rate, it was 88. He is back on 2 liters of oxygen.

Ken has gone to bed. He is coughing and muttering in a restless sleep. I am glad I will be here when he wakes up, to help if he needs it or just to let him know he's not alone.

Someone said to me today that it may take a while for me to recognize the lesson from this experience. I told her I can't imagine what the lesson might be. We were doing fine, and we knew it. Ken and I would look at each other and say, at the same moment, how lucky we are ~ a good marriage, three great kids, and our health. We knew our lives were good. We didn't need a serious illness to teach us anything or point us in a different direction.

Four days ago I sat down with pen and paper. I told Ken I wanted to make a "wish list." I wanted us to write down everything we wanted....and we both knew his first item was a John Deere tractor. I wrote down that I want a job. Then we got silent. Of things that are within our control, we couldn't think of another thing that either of us wanted.

Yes, we have known for a long time how lucky we are, how blessed our lives are, and how much we have to be grateful for.

Ken is fighting a serious case of pneumonia, and he is slowly getting better. When he is well again, we will celebrate the things we treasure and how glad we are that we've known our good fortune all along.