Saturday, April 30, 2011
It's Late, I'm a Little Crazy and This Post Isn't About Steve
I don't know if it's the coffee I'm drinking that's making me feel a little manic, but I am wide awake and the rest of my family is sleeping. It's almost midnight and this time is like the quiet time I had in the hospital when Steve was sleeping, minus the alarm bells of IV machines and humming of blood pressure cuffs. I'm having one of those moments I have every so often, mostly at night, when the events of the last three plus weeks are settling into my mind, making themselves at home there, and I'm uncomfortable in my skin. The discomfort I feel is like an itch, an irritating itch that's keeping me awake when I'd much rather be asleep. I'd so much rather be relaxed and okay, yet I'm restless and weary and I just want my life back the way it used to be. I'm so well aware that there are thousands upon millions of people whose lives are unbearable who would give anything to be in my shoes. I know this and I should be grateful (which I really am) and yet I'm feeling sorry for myself and I'm tired and I just want my husband back. I want my kids to feel safe and I want to not have to make so many important decisions and I just miss Steve. I know I have him and thank God for that, but I miss hugging him and not having those metal rods between us. I'd give anything to feel that wirey, scruffy stubble that I used to complain was too prickly against the skin of my cheek. Why am I learning this lesson again? Why am I being forced to find another new normal? I've tried to stop asking why but in the crazier moments, that is the only thing I want to ask. And I never seem to get any answers to the question, "Why?"
Changes
I changed the layout of the blog. I was using such an old template before that it made it hard to make layout changes. I'm having a hard time getting used to the new look so be forewarned, the look of the blog might change again but the content will certainly remain the same.
Some of Steve's coworkers came by yesterday to check on Steve. Lt. Arcos brought pizza for those of us who could eat and for Steve I made butternut squash soup which he drank through a straw. Steve had a nice visit with them and I heard a lot of laughing so I know the lightheartedness of having friends visit had to be good for Steve. Here's a picture of the guys:
I've enjoyed hearing the questions everyone is asking Steve so I can post his answers. If even one person is asking the question, then I know some of you may have the same question. The one question that seems to be asked the most is, "Do you remember getting shot?" The answer to that is yes. Steve remembers everything up until he was being wheeled into Holy Cross Hospital Emergency Room. Another question is, "Do you remember being in the ICU?" Steve does not remember being at Holy Cross at all except for when he first arrived there. He does not remember waking up when they would bring him off the sedatives for a few minutes to do neurological evaluations. Of course Steve remembers a lot about being in the ICU at USC because he was awake and relatively alert for his last week there. My daughter, Jane, today asked (like only a 6 year-old child can ask), "Does it hurt having those holes in your face?" Steve said no, they do not hurt.
Physically, Steve is doing well. The wound on his back where the doctor removed the bullet as well as the holes in his side from the chest tubes are healing well. Steve is wondering how long it will take for the stoma (opening where the trach tube was) to close. It seems to be taking a long time which is a little annoying to Steve because air is still escaping through the stoma. The doctor did say it could take up to two weeks. Steve gets winded easily but his vital signs are always good when the nurse checks them in the morning. Steve has three doctor appointments next week and an xray so I'm sure we will know much more about how he is actually doing after those appointments.
Psychologically Steve is doing as well as can be expected. He has a lot of ups and downs. It's still very hard for him to sleep at night and he said that is because if he wakes up for something incidental, he can't go back to sleep because his mind races. I noticed today that many of Steve's blue moments seem to be triggered by the way this is all affecting the kids. Jane told Steve, "Daddy, I wish this didn't happen to you." That broke Steve's heart. And then the kids went to the park with their grandmother today and Jane and Ryan were fighting a lot. When questioned about their behavior, Jane said that they wished their Daddy was there. She mentioned that Daddy always plays "monster tag" with them when they go to the park. That was extremely hard for Steven to hear. He feels so responsible for causing them more pain when they've already had to deal with so much in their young lives. When Steve has these upsets, we talk about it and sometimes I just listen. And ultimately Steve (and I) always returns to a feeling of gratitude for where we are instead of where we could have been.
Some of Steve's coworkers came by yesterday to check on Steve. Lt. Arcos brought pizza for those of us who could eat and for Steve I made butternut squash soup which he drank through a straw. Steve had a nice visit with them and I heard a lot of laughing so I know the lightheartedness of having friends visit had to be good for Steve. Here's a picture of the guys:
I've enjoyed hearing the questions everyone is asking Steve so I can post his answers. If even one person is asking the question, then I know some of you may have the same question. The one question that seems to be asked the most is, "Do you remember getting shot?" The answer to that is yes. Steve remembers everything up until he was being wheeled into Holy Cross Hospital Emergency Room. Another question is, "Do you remember being in the ICU?" Steve does not remember being at Holy Cross at all except for when he first arrived there. He does not remember waking up when they would bring him off the sedatives for a few minutes to do neurological evaluations. Of course Steve remembers a lot about being in the ICU at USC because he was awake and relatively alert for his last week there. My daughter, Jane, today asked (like only a 6 year-old child can ask), "Does it hurt having those holes in your face?" Steve said no, they do not hurt.
Physically, Steve is doing well. The wound on his back where the doctor removed the bullet as well as the holes in his side from the chest tubes are healing well. Steve is wondering how long it will take for the stoma (opening where the trach tube was) to close. It seems to be taking a long time which is a little annoying to Steve because air is still escaping through the stoma. The doctor did say it could take up to two weeks. Steve gets winded easily but his vital signs are always good when the nurse checks them in the morning. Steve has three doctor appointments next week and an xray so I'm sure we will know much more about how he is actually doing after those appointments.
Psychologically Steve is doing as well as can be expected. He has a lot of ups and downs. It's still very hard for him to sleep at night and he said that is because if he wakes up for something incidental, he can't go back to sleep because his mind races. I noticed today that many of Steve's blue moments seem to be triggered by the way this is all affecting the kids. Jane told Steve, "Daddy, I wish this didn't happen to you." That broke Steve's heart. And then the kids went to the park with their grandmother today and Jane and Ryan were fighting a lot. When questioned about their behavior, Jane said that they wished their Daddy was there. She mentioned that Daddy always plays "monster tag" with them when they go to the park. That was extremely hard for Steven to hear. He feels so responsible for causing them more pain when they've already had to deal with so much in their young lives. When Steve has these upsets, we talk about it and sometimes I just listen. And ultimately Steve (and I) always returns to a feeling of gratitude for where we are instead of where we could have been.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Thinner
Last night Steven suffered a migraine headache. Although migraines are nothing new to Steven, I wasn't quite sure what to do because I didn't know if I should give him his usual Excedrin Migraine since he was taking two different blood thinners. So I paged Dr. Hanpeter who called me back immediately. I was very impressed with his quick response. After talking with the doctor, I ended up giving Steve some liquid Vicodin which worked beautifully on the migraine and Steven was able to sleep a little better last night. Steve is taking two different blood thinners so he doesn't have problems with the big blood clot in his chest. When the vein in his left chest was damaged by the bullet, the doctors desperately wanted it to clot to stop the bleeding. But now that very clot poses a danger for Steven. As I understood it from Dr. Hanpeter, if that clot were to break loose, it could cause real trouble for Steven so Dr. Hanpeter prescribed Lovenox and Coumadin to prevent that from happening. I really don't know specifically how that works but it does make some sort of sense to me.
Not only is his blood thinner but Steven himself is getting thinner by the day. He never complains about the liquid diet but I know on some level, Steve is growing tired of soup, smoothies, and drinkable yogurt. He's lost 25 pounds and it really shows in his face. I don't think I've ever seen Steve with such defined cheek bones! At this point, I think food is totally irrelevant to Steve and he just wants to feel better, but if anyone out there has any good soup or smoothie recipes, I would love to have them so please feel free to include any recipes in the comments. And they definitely don't have to be vegan . . . I am the only vegan in the family.
Steve continues to be humbled by the love and support of everyone and he is wearing his heart on his sleeve these days. I've never seen someone so grateful just to wake up in the morning. He reminds me everyday how lucky I am for my good health, my loving family, and this wonderful life. No matter how chaotic and upside down this life experience can be, it is perfect just the way it is.
Not only is his blood thinner but Steven himself is getting thinner by the day. He never complains about the liquid diet but I know on some level, Steve is growing tired of soup, smoothies, and drinkable yogurt. He's lost 25 pounds and it really shows in his face. I don't think I've ever seen Steve with such defined cheek bones! At this point, I think food is totally irrelevant to Steve and he just wants to feel better, but if anyone out there has any good soup or smoothie recipes, I would love to have them so please feel free to include any recipes in the comments. And they definitely don't have to be vegan . . . I am the only vegan in the family.
Steve continues to be humbled by the love and support of everyone and he is wearing his heart on his sleeve these days. I've never seen someone so grateful just to wake up in the morning. He reminds me everyday how lucky I am for my good health, my loving family, and this wonderful life. No matter how chaotic and upside down this life experience can be, it is perfect just the way it is.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saying Goodbye
I just said goodbye to Steve's sister, Chris, who spent the last two plus weeks with us. She came from Washington to relieve my parents who were caring for the kids for the first week we were with Steven in the hospital and now she has to go home. Chris saved us in so many ways but mainly just being there for the kids, making sure their lives were minimally disrupted by what happened, and now it's time to say goodbye as she goes back home to her husband and her family. We are already feeling the pain of letting her go.
Steven is continuing to recover and it is clear that this process is going to be a long and slow one. As much as Steven wants to be doing more, his body just needs time to heal and that is proving to be a little frustrating for him. He tires so easily and yesterday his temperature was slightly elevated for a period during the day. I almost called the doctor but after a little time and a lot of rest, Steven's temperature returned to normal. Even though Steve is still on antibiotics, there is the danger of infection from the wounds that are still healing as well as the feeding tube, pins in his jaw, and the pulmonary issues (pneumonia, etc.). It's easy to forget about the potential complications when Steve appears to be doing so well, but they are always lurking and I have to be aware of the warning signs.
More and more, Steven is becoming aware of just how lucky he is to be alive and it hits him several times throughout the day. He walked into the backyard yesterday to feel the sun on his skin and he broke down. I asked him how he was feeling and he said that he just felt so grateful. He felt grateful to be alive and grateful that his injuries weren't worse. He felt so fortunate to be able to be with his kids and me and the rest of our family. There are so many things throughout the day that trigger this in him and I feel very lucky to be able to be witness these moments.
I have asked Steve a lot of questions about what he experienced the night he was shot. I had (and still have) so many questions and he has been very forthcoming with the information. I don't know if any of you are interested in this information but here's what I asked. I asked him if he had a sense that something wasn't right before the shooting. He said no. He said he had no inclination that anything was wrong, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and he had no gut feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. I asked him if he knew he had been shot. He said he definitely knew, he knew he had gotten shot in the face and that it was bad because he knew the round had blown away some of his teeth. However, he never tried to touch his face so he didn't know how bad that injury was. Soon after the gunshot wound to his jaw, his mouth felt full (likely blood and tissue). He said that the round that entered his chest was painful and he knew it was bad. He said he was relieved that the rescue ambulance showed up within seconds because he now believes he would have died without their immediate action. I asked him if he had a near death experience and he said no. I asked him if he thought he was going to die and he said he knew he got hit bad but the thought of dying never entered his mind. He said one of the paramedics kept saying, "Stay with me, stay with me." That made me cry. When he arrived at the hospital, he said he felt like going to sleep, like he could finally rest.
Steven is continuing to recover and it is clear that this process is going to be a long and slow one. As much as Steven wants to be doing more, his body just needs time to heal and that is proving to be a little frustrating for him. He tires so easily and yesterday his temperature was slightly elevated for a period during the day. I almost called the doctor but after a little time and a lot of rest, Steven's temperature returned to normal. Even though Steve is still on antibiotics, there is the danger of infection from the wounds that are still healing as well as the feeding tube, pins in his jaw, and the pulmonary issues (pneumonia, etc.). It's easy to forget about the potential complications when Steve appears to be doing so well, but they are always lurking and I have to be aware of the warning signs.
More and more, Steven is becoming aware of just how lucky he is to be alive and it hits him several times throughout the day. He walked into the backyard yesterday to feel the sun on his skin and he broke down. I asked him how he was feeling and he said that he just felt so grateful. He felt grateful to be alive and grateful that his injuries weren't worse. He felt so fortunate to be able to be with his kids and me and the rest of our family. There are so many things throughout the day that trigger this in him and I feel very lucky to be able to be witness these moments.
I have asked Steve a lot of questions about what he experienced the night he was shot. I had (and still have) so many questions and he has been very forthcoming with the information. I don't know if any of you are interested in this information but here's what I asked. I asked him if he had a sense that something wasn't right before the shooting. He said no. He said he had no inclination that anything was wrong, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and he had no gut feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. I asked him if he knew he had been shot. He said he definitely knew, he knew he had gotten shot in the face and that it was bad because he knew the round had blown away some of his teeth. However, he never tried to touch his face so he didn't know how bad that injury was. Soon after the gunshot wound to his jaw, his mouth felt full (likely blood and tissue). He said that the round that entered his chest was painful and he knew it was bad. He said he was relieved that the rescue ambulance showed up within seconds because he now believes he would have died without their immediate action. I asked him if he had a near death experience and he said no. I asked him if he thought he was going to die and he said he knew he got hit bad but the thought of dying never entered his mind. He said one of the paramedics kept saying, "Stay with me, stay with me." That made me cry. When he arrived at the hospital, he said he felt like going to sleep, like he could finally rest.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Settling Into Our Routine
Steve continues to make progress by the minute. He seems to be doing really well and we are settling into our routine of medications, bandage changes and mouth and pin care. We do that four times a day and the nurse comes somewhere in between to draw blood and to make sure we are doing everything properly. Steve told me earlier this evening that daytime is easiest but as nightime nears, he starts getting anxious. Even with sleep medication, Steve can only sleep for about two hours at a time and then he wakes up. When he does sleep it is a restless sleep with night sweats and a general uncomfortable feeling. So he wakes up every two hours and everyone else in the house is asleep and he doesn't know what to do with himself. It's very lonely.
I'm starting to see that the psychological and emotional scars of this incident will far outlast the physical ones. Already, Steve has told me that he always thought that if he did everything right that he would never get hurt. Well he did do everything right and he still got hurt. That's a hard pill to swallow and it makes us all realize just how vulnerable we really are.
All in all, Steve is handling his recovery like a pro and he's taking it one day at a time. He has to get his strength back because I have a long list of things for him to do and he's gotta get working on it before summer!
I'm starting to see that the psychological and emotional scars of this incident will far outlast the physical ones. Already, Steve has told me that he always thought that if he did everything right that he would never get hurt. Well he did do everything right and he still got hurt. That's a hard pill to swallow and it makes us all realize just how vulnerable we really are.
All in all, Steve is handling his recovery like a pro and he's taking it one day at a time. He has to get his strength back because I have a long list of things for him to do and he's gotta get working on it before summer!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Happy Easter
Happy Easter everyone! Wow, we just finished reading the latest comments on the most recent post and I couldn't help but feel that Steve's story is so much bigger than just him and our family. This story is about all of us (including every one of you who reads this blog) and your personal stories of struggles, challenges, and the inspiring stories of events in your own lives that you refer to in your comments. I love that we are all connected and uplifted by one another.
After arriving home yesterday, all we wanted to do was relax but of course there was too much to do. We had to organize all of our supplies from the hospital and attempt to establish a routine for medications, dressing changes, mouth and pin care, and Steve's feedings through the feeding tube. Then the home health care nurse came to evaluate Steven, help with any questions about his care, and determine what supplies we needed and didn't have. It was a bit overwhelming. I was very apprehensive about changing the bandages on Steve's wounds and neck where his trach tube had been but luckily I managed to complete the task without passing out. After all that, I still had to put the kids to bed and prepare for Easter morning. By bedtime, I was exhausted and foolishly thought I would sleep like a baby.
I gave Steven an Ambien through his feeding tube to help him sleep and got in bed. As I laid in bed, listening to Steve breathe, thoughts began flooding in and I couldn't quiet my mind. I listened to the pump of the feeding tube which triggered memories of a year and a half ago when I had the same sort of set up at home for myself after my cancer surgery. The rhythmically timed squeak of the pump brought back so many painful memories and emotions that I laid there feeling devastated for Steven, what he's been through and what he still has to endure. Then I tried to imagine how it must be for him only being able to breathe through his nose and the gaps in his teeth. I clenched my jaw and imagined what it would be like having to sleep with my jaw wired, only being able to breathe through my nose. I got so clausterphobic thinking about it that I broke out in a sweat and felt totally freaked out. I think it caused a slight panic attack. Needless to say, I couldn't fall asleep and all I wanted to do was listen to him breathe so that I knew he was still alive.
I must have fallen asleep eventually because Janie came in a 6am telling us that the Easter Bunny had come and left Easter baskets. I asked her if I could sleep a little longer before we went to see exactly what the Easter Bunny brought and she agreed. What a great kid! Eventually the other kids woke up and dragged me out of bed at 8. Steven stayed in bed because he hadn't slept very well throughout the night and he was barely able to lift his head off the pillow. Later in the morning, the nurse came to draw Steven's blood and after she left, I taped plastic around all Steve's bandages and he took his first shower in almost 3 weeks! Afterward, we all hung around the house, cuddled and watched movies, and enjoyed a very relaxing Easter Sunday. It was a great day.
After arriving home yesterday, all we wanted to do was relax but of course there was too much to do. We had to organize all of our supplies from the hospital and attempt to establish a routine for medications, dressing changes, mouth and pin care, and Steve's feedings through the feeding tube. Then the home health care nurse came to evaluate Steven, help with any questions about his care, and determine what supplies we needed and didn't have. It was a bit overwhelming. I was very apprehensive about changing the bandages on Steve's wounds and neck where his trach tube had been but luckily I managed to complete the task without passing out. After all that, I still had to put the kids to bed and prepare for Easter morning. By bedtime, I was exhausted and foolishly thought I would sleep like a baby.
I gave Steven an Ambien through his feeding tube to help him sleep and got in bed. As I laid in bed, listening to Steve breathe, thoughts began flooding in and I couldn't quiet my mind. I listened to the pump of the feeding tube which triggered memories of a year and a half ago when I had the same sort of set up at home for myself after my cancer surgery. The rhythmically timed squeak of the pump brought back so many painful memories and emotions that I laid there feeling devastated for Steven, what he's been through and what he still has to endure. Then I tried to imagine how it must be for him only being able to breathe through his nose and the gaps in his teeth. I clenched my jaw and imagined what it would be like having to sleep with my jaw wired, only being able to breathe through my nose. I got so clausterphobic thinking about it that I broke out in a sweat and felt totally freaked out. I think it caused a slight panic attack. Needless to say, I couldn't fall asleep and all I wanted to do was listen to him breathe so that I knew he was still alive.
I must have fallen asleep eventually because Janie came in a 6am telling us that the Easter Bunny had come and left Easter baskets. I asked her if I could sleep a little longer before we went to see exactly what the Easter Bunny brought and she agreed. What a great kid! Eventually the other kids woke up and dragged me out of bed at 8. Steven stayed in bed because he hadn't slept very well throughout the night and he was barely able to lift his head off the pillow. Later in the morning, the nurse came to draw Steven's blood and after she left, I taped plastic around all Steve's bandages and he took his first shower in almost 3 weeks! Afterward, we all hung around the house, cuddled and watched movies, and enjoyed a very relaxing Easter Sunday. It was a great day.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
There's No Place Like Home!
I am so very thrilled to report that we are home! It was an amazing day, one that we will never forget. Last night Steve finally had a good night's sleep. He attributed that to not having the trach tube anymore. Whatever it was, he slept well and because of that, so did I. We woke up feeling rested and excited but nervous. We knew Steve was ready to go home but it was all up to Dr. Hanpeter. I found myself feeling a little intimidated by Dr. Hanpeter just because he is so smart which made me feel a little stupid as I clumsily fumbled my words around him. But I finally got up the guts to ask him if I could take a picture and I was pleasantly surprised that he was more than happy to oblige. What a good dude!
And then there was Arcos. Lt. Bob Arcos, well what can I say? He's a great human being with a huge heart. He's Steve's boss but so much more than that and I am honored to call him our friend. Thanks Bob:
Linda Travis and Dave Wade came to finish what they started. They were part of the team that fateful night and they were with Steve every single step of the way. They came to personally see to it that Steve finally made it home. How humbling for me to see the bond that this team will always share:
Just before leaving the 7th Floor ICU, aka 7 West, Steve took one last walk down the hall to say his goodbyes. We had become so close to these amazing people and it was bittersweet leaving them all behind:
Linda, Dave, Steve's nurse, Jane, and I trailed behind as Steve Wills pushed Steve in the wheelchair down to the lobby where we were met by all of the handlers who were with Steve the night he was shot. Cliff Chu and Jason Schwab also joined in the lobby to greet Steve. From left to right they are: Lt. Bob Arcos, Ofcr. Cliff Chu, Ofcr. Linda Travis, Sgt. Miles Taylor, Ofcr. Dave Wade, Ofcr. Jason Schwab, Ofcr. Josh Kniss and of course Steve in front. I can't say enough about this extraordinary group of police officers who will forever be my friends. To Steve they are so much more than that. They are his brothers and sister:
I was so very moved watching some of the people sitting in the lobby as Steve was brought through in the wheelchair. When the handlers surrounded him and then posed for this picture, I was struck by a middle aged lady sitting with her family. She and her family stood to watch what was happening and as Steve passed by, she brought her hands to her face and the tears in her eyes said it all. This police officer, this man who had sacrificed so much, was going home.
After Dr. Hanpeter confirmed that Steven could go home, I made some notifications and many of Steve's friends came to the hospital to help transport him home. Steve Wills, Steve's old partner in C Team has been there for us every step of this journey:
And then there was Arcos. Lt. Bob Arcos, well what can I say? He's a great human being with a huge heart. He's Steve's boss but so much more than that and I am honored to call him our friend. Thanks Bob:
Linda Travis and Dave Wade came to finish what they started. They were part of the team that fateful night and they were with Steve every single step of the way. They came to personally see to it that Steve finally made it home. How humbling for me to see the bond that this team will always share:
Just before leaving the 7th Floor ICU, aka 7 West, Steve took one last walk down the hall to say his goodbyes. We had become so close to these amazing people and it was bittersweet leaving them all behind:
Linda, Dave, Steve's nurse, Jane, and I trailed behind as Steve Wills pushed Steve in the wheelchair down to the lobby where we were met by all of the handlers who were with Steve the night he was shot. Cliff Chu and Jason Schwab also joined in the lobby to greet Steve. From left to right they are: Lt. Bob Arcos, Ofcr. Cliff Chu, Ofcr. Linda Travis, Sgt. Miles Taylor, Ofcr. Dave Wade, Ofcr. Jason Schwab, Ofcr. Josh Kniss and of course Steve in front. I can't say enough about this extraordinary group of police officers who will forever be my friends. To Steve they are so much more than that. They are his brothers and sister:
I was so very moved watching some of the people sitting in the lobby as Steve was brought through in the wheelchair. When the handlers surrounded him and then posed for this picture, I was struck by a middle aged lady sitting with her family. She and her family stood to watch what was happening and as Steve passed by, she brought her hands to her face and the tears in her eyes said it all. This police officer, this man who had sacrificed so much, was going home.
We exited the lobby doors, Steve waived goodbye and gave a thumbs up, and we boarded the suburban (courtesy of LAPD's SWAT unit) to go home. After almost three weeks in the hospital, Steven was finally going home.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Going Home
I'm writing this post as I so often do, at the end of the night when Steve is finally dozing for what is usually just a nap. But it's a peaceful time of night when I can just be alone with my thoughts reflecting on the day. Today was so very eventful right from the start. Early in the morning, Dr. Urata, the head jaw reconstructionist stopped in for his rounds. It's humbling just being in his presence as I am so very grateful for his skill and talent and above all his approachable bedside manner. I like him. Here he is, the one in the suit, in action:
After Dr. Urata, the speech therapists came in to teach Steve speech exercises and then they watched him eat breakfast. Late last night, Dr. Hanpeter approved orders for Steve to start a "wired-jaw diet." So for breakfast he ate cream of wheat through a straw:
Later Steve had some very special visitors, LaSalle Culpepper and Mary Grace Weaver:
While Mary Grace was here, Steve walked two laps around the ICU with the physical therapist...he was showing off! After Mary Grace left, Steve had a short break and then Ryan, the nurse came in and we begged him to convince Dr. Hanpeter that Steve was ready to go home. Ryan has been one of our absolute favorite nurses. He's amazing:
After Dr. Urata, the speech therapists came in to teach Steve speech exercises and then they watched him eat breakfast. Late last night, Dr. Hanpeter approved orders for Steve to start a "wired-jaw diet." So for breakfast he ate cream of wheat through a straw:
Later Steve had some very special visitors, LaSalle Culpepper and Mary Grace Weaver:
While Mary Grace was here, Steve walked two laps around the ICU with the physical therapist...he was showing off! After Mary Grace left, Steve had a short break and then Ryan, the nurse came in and we begged him to convince Dr. Hanpeter that Steve was ready to go home. Ryan has been one of our absolute favorite nurses. He's amazing:
Notice that in the above picture, Steve no longer has a trach tube. That's because at 3 pm Dr. Hanpeter came in and discussed what's next for Steve. He decided that it was time to remove the trach tube. Steve was beyond excited. Here's a close-up of Steve without the trach tube:
Finally, we had a long discussion with Dr. Hanpeter about when Steve could go home. Pretty much at this point, he's desperate to go home so he can be with the family. Even though the doctors, nurses, and entire staff at USC University Hospital have been so great, Steve feels that he is at a point in his recovery that being home will allow for optimal healing. Dr. Hanpeter's concerns were for Steve's ability to breath well enough without the trach and the precariousness of the blood clot in his chest which is being treated with the blood thinners Lovenox and Coumadin. Because of the blood thinners, Steve will require daily blood tests until a therapeutic level is reached. After discussing all of this and so much more (in home nursing care, medical equipment and supplies needed at home) Dr. Hanpeter agreed to discharge Steve tomorrow. We could not believe our ears. Of course, the discharge is all contingent upon how stable he continues to be in the next 12+ hours, but we'll take that.
I had some quiet moments with Steve this morning in between doctor visits, etc. where I was able to show him some photos of how he looked his first days at Holy Cross Hospital when he was in the drug induced coma. I also showed him some of the news footage of the day he was shot. Up until now, Steve never wanted to see any of it. But the gravity of what's happened to him is finally sinking in and there is a two week period of Steve's life of which he has no memory. He finally wanted to fill in the blanks and see for himself what had happened to him and around him during that time. Watching him watch those videos and look at those pictures and being by his side as he was witnessing this event that has forever changed us both was an honor and a privilege. With tears in his eyes, he watched with dignity, courage and grace the unfolding of what can best be described as his "new lease on life."
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Humbled Beyond Words
I got to the hospital a little late tonight. Again, it was so hard leaving the kids. This whole thing is really taking it's toll on all of us. Luckily, I got a good, solid four hour nap today at home in my own bed. It was my own little glimpse of heaven. And it was such a nice reprieve, to be able to take a break from my thoughts for a while. Nevertheless, the drive to the hospital tonight was extremely emotional, thinking of how the kids are starting to break under the immensity of all of this. When I arrived at Steven's room, he was sitting up and he looked really good.
He asked about the kids and we both started crying. We miss them and they miss us and to quote my 6 year-old son (who gets in trouble everytime he says this), "This sucks!" So while the nurse was cleaning around the pins in Steve's jaw, I opened the laptop to read him the latest comments from the last blog post. As I read, we sat there, completely humbled, hanging on every last word from every comment. Even the nurse, Kate, laughed and cried with us and stuck around to hear more. I know I mentioned in one of the previous posts that I was trying to figure out the gift in all of this. Well, I think I found one huge gift tonight. Thank you to all who have commented.
Today was a good day in Steve's recovery. Dr. Hanpeter ordered a chest CT late yesterday which showed that Steve had very little fluid left around his left lung. Therefore, Dr. Hanpeter, took out both chest tubes this morning. Steve was so relieved to have those things out! Then, Dr. Hanpeter gave his blessing for Steve to begin a clear liquid diet so he's been drinking water like crazy. And he also had a little clear broth for dinner so there's no doubt he'll be drinking milkshakes in no time. Although the doctor wants Steven to stay in the ICU, he changed the orders for the number of times Steve's vitals have to be taken so that will eliminate the constant interruptions throughout the night. Hopefully that will allow Steve to sleep better. Steve's trach tube was changed to a smaller one that allows him to pass air through his vocal chords so now he can speak a little bit. It is difficult, though, so Steve is still using his own version of sign language which has actually proven to be pretty effective. Finally, Steve will not be going home on Friday as we all hoped. He's just not ready yet. Dr. Hanpeter said that Sunday would be the earliest he might go home and although we are very disappointed, we know that going home too soon would not be good.
This is starting to feel like the end of a marathon. We know we've made it this far and there's only a little farther to go but every single moment is a struggle and the finish line is nowhere in sight. For those still praying, please pray we find the strength to go the distance. And please pray that my kids somehow find comfort in the moments we are separated from them.
He asked about the kids and we both started crying. We miss them and they miss us and to quote my 6 year-old son (who gets in trouble everytime he says this), "This sucks!" So while the nurse was cleaning around the pins in Steve's jaw, I opened the laptop to read him the latest comments from the last blog post. As I read, we sat there, completely humbled, hanging on every last word from every comment. Even the nurse, Kate, laughed and cried with us and stuck around to hear more. I know I mentioned in one of the previous posts that I was trying to figure out the gift in all of this. Well, I think I found one huge gift tonight. Thank you to all who have commented.
Today was a good day in Steve's recovery. Dr. Hanpeter ordered a chest CT late yesterday which showed that Steve had very little fluid left around his left lung. Therefore, Dr. Hanpeter, took out both chest tubes this morning. Steve was so relieved to have those things out! Then, Dr. Hanpeter gave his blessing for Steve to begin a clear liquid diet so he's been drinking water like crazy. And he also had a little clear broth for dinner so there's no doubt he'll be drinking milkshakes in no time. Although the doctor wants Steven to stay in the ICU, he changed the orders for the number of times Steve's vitals have to be taken so that will eliminate the constant interruptions throughout the night. Hopefully that will allow Steve to sleep better. Steve's trach tube was changed to a smaller one that allows him to pass air through his vocal chords so now he can speak a little bit. It is difficult, though, so Steve is still using his own version of sign language which has actually proven to be pretty effective. Finally, Steve will not be going home on Friday as we all hoped. He's just not ready yet. Dr. Hanpeter said that Sunday would be the earliest he might go home and although we are very disappointed, we know that going home too soon would not be good.
This is starting to feel like the end of a marathon. We know we've made it this far and there's only a little farther to go but every single moment is a struggle and the finish line is nowhere in sight. For those still praying, please pray we find the strength to go the distance. And please pray that my kids somehow find comfort in the moments we are separated from them.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Fresh Air
Last night and this morning were really rough for Steve. All he wanted was to be able to sleep but for whatever reason, that is proving to be impossible in the hospital. Even with sleep medication, Steve just can't sleep at all and it's been about four days now that he hasn't slept. That combined with all the other challenges resulted in Steven's first breakdown since truly waking up from the medicated haze he was in. He is so unbearably uncomfortable in the bed, yet he can't move freely because he's hooked up to countless monitors and tubes. Even getting out of bed to sit in a chair right beside the bed is a twenty minute undertaking. I think the reality of this situation is really sinking in. The expression on Steve's face in the following picture says it all:
But late this morning, thanks to Bill, the very best RN in the whole world, things started looking up a bit. Most nurses in the ICU won't take their patients outside for fresh air because they are hooked to so many machines and monitors, but that didn't deter Bill. Besides Steve, Bill is our hero. Here are a couple of pictures of Steve's 15 minute trip outside for some fresh air:
Before going outside, the physical therapist made Steven walk the hall:
Now, we're just waiting for Dr. Hanpeter to arrive so we can tell him that Steven desperately wants to go home, that he is ready to drink liquids according to the speech therapist, and that if he can't go home now, then he wants off all tubes and the monitors so he can get a decent night's sleep.
My sincerest thank you to everyone who reads this blog and says prayers or thinks positive thoughts for Steven's recovery. We are truly grateful. For those who have left comments and for those who are considering it, please just know that I read them to Steven all throughout the day. He is absolutely humbled by every single word and some days that is the only thing keeping him going. He honestly can't believe there is so much love and support for him and it is that support that is carrying my whole family.
But late this morning, thanks to Bill, the very best RN in the whole world, things started looking up a bit. Most nurses in the ICU won't take their patients outside for fresh air because they are hooked to so many machines and monitors, but that didn't deter Bill. Besides Steve, Bill is our hero. Here are a couple of pictures of Steve's 15 minute trip outside for some fresh air:
Before going outside, the physical therapist made Steven walk the hall:
Now, we're just waiting for Dr. Hanpeter to arrive so we can tell him that Steven desperately wants to go home, that he is ready to drink liquids according to the speech therapist, and that if he can't go home now, then he wants off all tubes and the monitors so he can get a decent night's sleep.
My sincerest thank you to everyone who reads this blog and says prayers or thinks positive thoughts for Steven's recovery. We are truly grateful. For those who have left comments and for those who are considering it, please just know that I read them to Steven all throughout the day. He is absolutely humbled by every single word and some days that is the only thing keeping him going. He honestly can't believe there is so much love and support for him and it is that support that is carrying my whole family.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Small Step Backward
Steven had a small step backward today. Last night when the nurse gave him two Ambien, he started dozing off before the nurse was even done cleaning his mouth. I was so relieved that he appeared to be in for a good night's sleep. But about a half hour later, he woke up with what I'll just call "stomach issues." The dreaded stomach issues kept him awake all night long. When the doctor came in early this morning, the nurse briefed him on the night's events and the doctor ordered tests to determine if Steven had contracted a bacteria in his GI tract called "C-Diff." Basically when an immunocompromised person is on heavy antibiotics, the good bacteria in the GI tract is eliminated and the very resistant bad bacteria can grow and cause intestinal complications. So the doctor ordered Steven into isolation which meant we had to wear gowns and gloves when in Steven's room and we had to follow a certain protocol for handwashing.
Before he was ordered into isolation, Steven met with the physical therapist. Despite nodding off in mid sentence, Steven went for a walk with all the machines in tow. He walked out of his room to the door of the next room and back. The walking, as well as getting rid of some of the machines and tubes, is a huge step toward going home. Unfortunately, Steven still has both chest tubes and the larger trach tube which we had hope would be replaced with a smaller one today. Dr. Hanpeter said that would happen tomorrow instead. I'm not sure if Steven is still on track to possibly go home on Thursday or Friday. Dr. Hanpeter had to get to Holy Cross Hospital and didn't have a chance to discuss Steven's progress. Luckily we found out late today that Steve did not have "C-Diff" so he is no longer in isolation.
As I was leaving the hospital today, I felt so sorrowful. I felt as though my heart was being pulled in two different directions. I hated to leave Steven there without me to look after him and make sure he had everything he needed. But I just had to get home to the kids so they could see me and feel me and know that I was still there for them too. It's hard being constantly torn like that. So as I drove home I couldn't help but feel a little selfish. For that 30 minute drive, I was allowed to just be there for myself. I had thirty minutes to sink into the driver's seat in more ways than one and I gave myself permission to enjoy that time. I cried, I sang to myself, I thought about what could possibly be the gift in all of this. Then when I got home, I put on my mom hat and started all over again.
Before he was ordered into isolation, Steven met with the physical therapist. Despite nodding off in mid sentence, Steven went for a walk with all the machines in tow. He walked out of his room to the door of the next room and back. The walking, as well as getting rid of some of the machines and tubes, is a huge step toward going home. Unfortunately, Steven still has both chest tubes and the larger trach tube which we had hope would be replaced with a smaller one today. Dr. Hanpeter said that would happen tomorrow instead. I'm not sure if Steven is still on track to possibly go home on Thursday or Friday. Dr. Hanpeter had to get to Holy Cross Hospital and didn't have a chance to discuss Steven's progress. Luckily we found out late today that Steve did not have "C-Diff" so he is no longer in isolation.
As I was leaving the hospital today, I felt so sorrowful. I felt as though my heart was being pulled in two different directions. I hated to leave Steven there without me to look after him and make sure he had everything he needed. But I just had to get home to the kids so they could see me and feel me and know that I was still there for them too. It's hard being constantly torn like that. So as I drove home I couldn't help but feel a little selfish. For that 30 minute drive, I was allowed to just be there for myself. I had thirty minutes to sink into the driver's seat in more ways than one and I gave myself permission to enjoy that time. I cried, I sang to myself, I thought about what could possibly be the gift in all of this. Then when I got home, I put on my mom hat and started all over again.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Good News Worth Waiting For
I'm convinced the combination of prayers from all of you, coupled with the visit from the kids yesterday resulted in an exponential leap forward in Steve's recovery. He woke up from a pretty decent 90 minute nap early this morning and he was the same Steve we all know and love. It was like a curtain lifted and there he was, smiling and giving two thumbs up. I felt so uplifted and relieved. After his nap, Steve asked me to read him comments from the blog along with cards he's received from family, friends, fellow officers and kind strangers. The gratitude he was feeling was palpable in the hospital room we've made our temporary home. Steve was overwhelmed with emotion hearing for himself the outpouring of support and love for not only him but our entire family. So with every cell in my body, I express my deepest gratitude for every encouraging word, every positive thought, and especially every single prayer sent out on our behalf when we couldn't focus enough to pray for ourselves. Every single one of you has carried us and for that we are grateful.
I waited all day to see Dr. Hanpeter. It wasn't as though I had somewhere else to be, I mean I was going to be where I've been for two weeks...right next to Steve. But with Steve appearing to have made a giant step forward, I wanted to know what we could expect in the coming days. Earlier this morning, Steve had his feeding tube changed from a "G-tube" (inserted into the stomach) to a "J-tube" (inserted into the small intestine) because his stomach had been so sensitive to the very strong antibiotics. All the feedings he was receiving through the G-tube were causing a lot of stomach pain, but the feedings were so important because Steve needs protein for cell production which is critical in healing, particularly the reproduction of damaged tissue. So hopefully he will be able to have his tube feedings with the new placement of the tube. Then in the early afternoon, the respiratory therapist removed the ventilator and Steve is now only on oxygen, room air and breathing treatments. However, he still has the trach tube which will be replaced tomorrow with a smaller tube that will allow Steven to talk.
Dr. Hanpeter came in to see Steven at 6 pm this evening. I had been on the edge of my seat all day waiting for the results of the blood test and chest xray and I was hoping for some indication of how much longer Steve might be in the hospital. The doctor began by telling Steve that the antibiotics seemed to be working. Interestingly, the doctor believed that Steve was resistant to the first antibiotic that he had prescribed. Along with changing out the trach tube tomorrow, Dr. Hanpeter also intends to remove one of the two chest tubes. If Steve does well without the ventilator, he will continue with room air and by the time Steve goes home, the doctor will have removed his trach altogether and sewn up the hole. And finally, the anticipated date of discharge is, optimistically this Thursday, realistically this Friday!!! See what I mean that all the prayers are working?!
It's 11:18 pm and Steve is fast asleep. The nurse gave him two Ambien and he's out...amen.
I waited all day to see Dr. Hanpeter. It wasn't as though I had somewhere else to be, I mean I was going to be where I've been for two weeks...right next to Steve. But with Steve appearing to have made a giant step forward, I wanted to know what we could expect in the coming days. Earlier this morning, Steve had his feeding tube changed from a "G-tube" (inserted into the stomach) to a "J-tube" (inserted into the small intestine) because his stomach had been so sensitive to the very strong antibiotics. All the feedings he was receiving through the G-tube were causing a lot of stomach pain, but the feedings were so important because Steve needs protein for cell production which is critical in healing, particularly the reproduction of damaged tissue. So hopefully he will be able to have his tube feedings with the new placement of the tube. Then in the early afternoon, the respiratory therapist removed the ventilator and Steve is now only on oxygen, room air and breathing treatments. However, he still has the trach tube which will be replaced tomorrow with a smaller tube that will allow Steven to talk.
Dr. Hanpeter came in to see Steven at 6 pm this evening. I had been on the edge of my seat all day waiting for the results of the blood test and chest xray and I was hoping for some indication of how much longer Steve might be in the hospital. The doctor began by telling Steve that the antibiotics seemed to be working. Interestingly, the doctor believed that Steve was resistant to the first antibiotic that he had prescribed. Along with changing out the trach tube tomorrow, Dr. Hanpeter also intends to remove one of the two chest tubes. If Steve does well without the ventilator, he will continue with room air and by the time Steve goes home, the doctor will have removed his trach altogether and sewn up the hole. And finally, the anticipated date of discharge is, optimistically this Thursday, realistically this Friday!!! See what I mean that all the prayers are working?!
It's 11:18 pm and Steve is fast asleep. The nurse gave him two Ambien and he's out...amen.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Time with Dad
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| Steven couldn't stop staring at the kids. They colored pictures for him. |
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| This photo of Kylie and her dad speaks for itself |
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| Steve and Jane |
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| Steve and Ryan |
A wonderful person donated his time and talent to produce lifesize cutouts of the kids for Steve. How do you ever say thank you for a gift like this?
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| Jane and her cutout twin |
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| Can you guess which one is the real Ryan? |
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| Kylie and her cutout buddy who's just as beautiful as the real thing. |
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| Steve, his sister Chris, and Robin, his mom |
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| Here's one with Andrew |
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| The kids loved their visit with Daddy |
Reunion Scheduled for Today
I left the hospital around two yesterday afternoon to go home, see the kids, take a shower, and take a nap. It had been another long night and I really only got a few cat naps. I seriously don't know how sick people are expected to get better when they're never allowed to sleep. Anyway, I accomplished all of my to do list, even the nap, although I wished it would have been longer. It was so good to be home, hanging out with the kids and we had a great time. When it was time for me to leave and go back to the hospital, everything fell apart. The kids started arguing over who was playing the Indiana Jones DS game and I felt my short fuse just about to ignite. I've noticed that every time I've had to leave for the hospital, the arguing begins and I realized early on in this journey that the kids were definitely needing extra attention and reassurance about their daddy. After all, not only is their dad not around (under traumatic circumstances no less), but they haven't seen me much either. Their lives have been turned completely upside down. But I never understood the depth of their pain until last night. And honestly, I think I haven't even seen the true depth yet.
Jane was ranting about the DS game and how she hadn't gotten her turn to play. Then she said, "I just wish Daddy was here." Kylie snapped at her, "Jane, stop it, you're stressing Mom out!" That caught my attention. Then Kylie began crying. I knew she was feeling the pain of missing Steven so I began inquiring about her feelings. Kylie had been sleeping with me the morning I received the phone call about Steven. Under normal circumstances, Kylie is a very sound sleeper and it's hard to wake her. But she must have heard the phone ring at 3:47 that morning. I was in such a state of panic that I don't even remember what I said on the phone. So as Kylie and I began talking about Steven she said to me, "Mom, you were on the phone that night and you said, 'Is he alive?' You were talking about Daddy." I sat there staring at her feeling stunned. I had no idea she knew that. I began crying with her. She started asking specific details about how Steven had been shot. I was so bewildered that her six year-old mind could process all of the information enough to have such specific questions. After talking to my sister-in-law, I realized that Kylie probably thought Steven was dead and that perhaps we just weren't telling her. I realized that I needed to find a way to let the kids see Steven.
Steve didn't sleep last night at all. Today, he is so exhausted but despite that, his white cell count is nearly normal which means the antibiotics are finally working. Thank you, God. I asked him if he wanted to see the kids and he said yes. The nurse approved it so we are going to make that happen today. I think it will do our whole family good to be together again. Dr. Hanpeter came in after reviewing test results and was happy about the white cell count. He's keeping him on the ventilator, though, which I know Steve's not happy about. The physical therapist came in and said that she is going to have Steven start walking tomorrow. For today, Steven did leg exercises while sitting in a chair beside the bed.
To my dear friends Melissa and Joshua, thank you for today.
Jane was ranting about the DS game and how she hadn't gotten her turn to play. Then she said, "I just wish Daddy was here." Kylie snapped at her, "Jane, stop it, you're stressing Mom out!" That caught my attention. Then Kylie began crying. I knew she was feeling the pain of missing Steven so I began inquiring about her feelings. Kylie had been sleeping with me the morning I received the phone call about Steven. Under normal circumstances, Kylie is a very sound sleeper and it's hard to wake her. But she must have heard the phone ring at 3:47 that morning. I was in such a state of panic that I don't even remember what I said on the phone. So as Kylie and I began talking about Steven she said to me, "Mom, you were on the phone that night and you said, 'Is he alive?' You were talking about Daddy." I sat there staring at her feeling stunned. I had no idea she knew that. I began crying with her. She started asking specific details about how Steven had been shot. I was so bewildered that her six year-old mind could process all of the information enough to have such specific questions. After talking to my sister-in-law, I realized that Kylie probably thought Steven was dead and that perhaps we just weren't telling her. I realized that I needed to find a way to let the kids see Steven.
Steve didn't sleep last night at all. Today, he is so exhausted but despite that, his white cell count is nearly normal which means the antibiotics are finally working. Thank you, God. I asked him if he wanted to see the kids and he said yes. The nurse approved it so we are going to make that happen today. I think it will do our whole family good to be together again. Dr. Hanpeter came in after reviewing test results and was happy about the white cell count. He's keeping him on the ventilator, though, which I know Steve's not happy about. The physical therapist came in and said that she is going to have Steven start walking tomorrow. For today, Steven did leg exercises while sitting in a chair beside the bed.
To my dear friends Melissa and Joshua, thank you for today.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Slowly Getting Better
Yesterday, Dr. Hanpeter put Steve on stronger antibiotics in the hopes that any infection lurking would be eliminated. The doctor and all the nurses cautioned that even if the antibiotics work on whatever infection Steve has, they would take time and we wouldn't see immediate improvements. I think that's finally happening, although I hate to get my hopes up. But Steve looks so much better today and his temperature is consistently running in the 100 range instead of the 102's and 103's. He's much more alert and is able to communicate more clearly with facial expressions and mouthing words. He just seems a whole lot better in a lot of ways. I mentioned in the last post, however, that the stronger antibiotics were killing all the good bacteria in his GI tract and that hasn't changed. The poor guy's stomach is killing him.
I know I'm starting to see much more of the real Steve because one of Steve's good friends and coworkers, Tom Call, sent a picture of Steve's dog, Rocco, via cell phone today. Up until now, I've been very careful about what I've told and shown Steve because I didn't want to hinder his healing process by upsetting him with details about what happened. I just didn't know how he would react to any of that when he was still trying to deal with the shock of being unable to speak, eat or drink, and confined to a hospital bed in the ICU, hooked up to a ventilator and enduring countless other complications. But I have been telling him a few details, mostly about the incredible response and support from everyone, since last night and when I got the picture of Rocco, I had to show it to him. His reaction was telling. He was overcome with emotion seeing his partner, his loyal friend. In that moment, I knew I was witnessing Steve's comeback.
I know I'm starting to see much more of the real Steve because one of Steve's good friends and coworkers, Tom Call, sent a picture of Steve's dog, Rocco, via cell phone today. Up until now, I've been very careful about what I've told and shown Steve because I didn't want to hinder his healing process by upsetting him with details about what happened. I just didn't know how he would react to any of that when he was still trying to deal with the shock of being unable to speak, eat or drink, and confined to a hospital bed in the ICU, hooked up to a ventilator and enduring countless other complications. But I have been telling him a few details, mostly about the incredible response and support from everyone, since last night and when I got the picture of Rocco, I had to show it to him. His reaction was telling. He was overcome with emotion seeing his partner, his loyal friend. In that moment, I knew I was witnessing Steve's comeback.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Right Now, Emesis is Steve's Nemesis
It's 8:15 pm and I'm finally just now logging onto the computer for the first time today. I went home last night to take care of the kids while Steve's sister, Chris, and his mom went back to the hospital to be with Steve. It was the first time in 11 days that I'd been home more than a few hours and by myself with the kids and I think we all needed it. It was a peaceful night and we all slept in the same room...the kids loved that. Then this morning after I dropped the kids off at school, I went to my own doctor appointment. It was the first time Steve had ever missed one of my oncology appointments. Dr. McNamara didn't even really know what to say to me. He'd been so used to having Steve there to joke around with him. Instead my parents went with me and the whole appointment just felt awkward without Steve. Afterward, my parents went with me to Target to buy stuff for the kids' Easter baskets. Even with everything going on, I would have never forgiven myself if I had forgotten the Easter baskets...that would be reprehensible.
I got to the hospital at 5 pm and found out that Steve had another grueling and eventful night and day. Last night his fever spiked to a little over 103 and it never got below 102. He got delirious and confused again and I think we've finally figured out that he has those episodes when his fever is spiking. Needless to say, it was an exhausting night for Chris and Me-Mom and neither got any sleep. Of course Steve never got any sleep either and that is a factor in his delirium as well. I found out the nurses call that ICU psychosis. It's caused by shock, pain meds, and complete lack of any decent blocks of sleep. Anyway, this morning Steve had a CT scan which showed that the chest tubes he currently has are working, they are draining the fluid around the lungs. And Dr. Hanpeter performed another broncoscopy to suction the lungs. So now the big question is what is causing the fever? Apparently, the doctors know for sure that Steve has pneumonia which is being treated with antibiotics. And they know he is a very high risk for infection elsewhere, his jaw and the actual path that the bullet traveled through his chest. So they are treating him with very strong antibiotics in the hopes that this will neutralize any possible infection. The bad thing about the very strong antibiotics is that they kill the good bacteria in the GI tract which is causing a lot of emesis. Throwing up sucks when your mouth is wired shut...
On to better news, Steve sat in a chair yesterday! That was huge. He communicated quite a bit with writing notes, although he didn't write at all today. But that might just be because he doesn't have much to say. His expressions are saying it all and we are understanding those better. The physical therapist came today to evaluate Steve, particularly his swollen left arm. According to the PT, the lymph nodes in the chest on the left side have been traumatized which appears to be causing lymphedema. So they wrapped his arm in a compression bandage and they will monitor that over the weekend.
Because of constant interruptions in Steve's room, it took me almost two hours to compose this post, but I think that explains the day. After a good night's sleep last night, I'm feeling more positive than I have since this whole situation started. I didn't cry nearly as much today.
I got to the hospital at 5 pm and found out that Steve had another grueling and eventful night and day. Last night his fever spiked to a little over 103 and it never got below 102. He got delirious and confused again and I think we've finally figured out that he has those episodes when his fever is spiking. Needless to say, it was an exhausting night for Chris and Me-Mom and neither got any sleep. Of course Steve never got any sleep either and that is a factor in his delirium as well. I found out the nurses call that ICU psychosis. It's caused by shock, pain meds, and complete lack of any decent blocks of sleep. Anyway, this morning Steve had a CT scan which showed that the chest tubes he currently has are working, they are draining the fluid around the lungs. And Dr. Hanpeter performed another broncoscopy to suction the lungs. So now the big question is what is causing the fever? Apparently, the doctors know for sure that Steve has pneumonia which is being treated with antibiotics. And they know he is a very high risk for infection elsewhere, his jaw and the actual path that the bullet traveled through his chest. So they are treating him with very strong antibiotics in the hopes that this will neutralize any possible infection. The bad thing about the very strong antibiotics is that they kill the good bacteria in the GI tract which is causing a lot of emesis. Throwing up sucks when your mouth is wired shut...
On to better news, Steve sat in a chair yesterday! That was huge. He communicated quite a bit with writing notes, although he didn't write at all today. But that might just be because he doesn't have much to say. His expressions are saying it all and we are understanding those better. The physical therapist came today to evaluate Steve, particularly his swollen left arm. According to the PT, the lymph nodes in the chest on the left side have been traumatized which appears to be causing lymphedema. So they wrapped his arm in a compression bandage and they will monitor that over the weekend.
Because of constant interruptions in Steve's room, it took me almost two hours to compose this post, but I think that explains the day. After a good night's sleep last night, I'm feeling more positive than I have since this whole situation started. I didn't cry nearly as much today.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Writing Things Down
Just in the last few hours, it seems as though Steve has made some real progress. I'm amazed at this process...such highs and lows. I'm finally starting to realize that the key to getting through this is acceptance. I have to accept that good moments will happen as well as the bad. And I have to let go of expectations and accept that this will take time.
Steve has been feverish all day and we both slept as much as we could (which wasn't much) this morning because we were exhausted from the events of the night. When Steve awoke around 11 am, he was trying desperately to communicate with me. Obviously, he couldn't speak because of the trach tube. And up until now, whenever we've tried to get Steven to write down what he was trying to tell us, he just couldn't write. His hand couldn't even really hold the pen. But he was SO frustrated with me this morning and I was equally frustrated with him. He was mad and rolling his eyes at me and I finally had to get tough with him. I told him, "I've had it with this! You're going to write whether you like it or not!" Begrudgingly he did it!!! It was messy and barely legible but he did it and I understood what he wrote! Hallelujah! All he wanted was to tell me to call home and find out if the kids went to school.
I have no idea what the next ten minutes or hour or day will bring. But I'm feeling very grateful right now, right in this moment.
Steve has been feverish all day and we both slept as much as we could (which wasn't much) this morning because we were exhausted from the events of the night. When Steve awoke around 11 am, he was trying desperately to communicate with me. Obviously, he couldn't speak because of the trach tube. And up until now, whenever we've tried to get Steven to write down what he was trying to tell us, he just couldn't write. His hand couldn't even really hold the pen. But he was SO frustrated with me this morning and I was equally frustrated with him. He was mad and rolling his eyes at me and I finally had to get tough with him. I told him, "I've had it with this! You're going to write whether you like it or not!" Begrudgingly he did it!!! It was messy and barely legible but he did it and I understood what he wrote! Hallelujah! All he wanted was to tell me to call home and find out if the kids went to school.
I have no idea what the next ten minutes or hour or day will bring. But I'm feeling very grateful right now, right in this moment.
Long Night
Just as I suspected, last night was a very long and difficult night. Steve had a fever over 102 all night and he began having trouble breathing. He had been off the vent, on room air, for a lot of the day but I guess with the fever and infection somewhere in his body, it all proved to be too much for him and he needed the assistance of the vent to keep his lungs inflating fully. They've taken blood cultures to determine what kind of infection he has but the cultures take time to grow. In the meantime, he is on two different antibiotics. They are not giving him tylenol for his fever like they had because his liver enzymes are elevated and they don't know what's causing that. I'm waiting for Dr. Hanpeter to come in and give me more of an idea of what all of this means. But I had a long talk with Steve's nurse, Angela, last night who reassured me that it's true in nearly every case that a patient will make some small steps forward and then a step or two back. This I know intellectually but it's a whole lot different when you're living it.
On a lighter note, I got a glimpse early this morning of the Steven I know so well. Both Steve and I were taking cat naps when nurses and respiratory therapists weren't coming in and out. I think at some point, Steven woke up to see me asleep in the chair. Shortly after that, Angela the RN came in to tell us she was going home and Ryan would be taking over. In his best attempts to communicate, Steve let it be known that the nurses needed to bring in TWO blankets and he pointed at me. He wanted the blankets for me so I would be warm when I slept. That's my husband.
On a lighter note, I got a glimpse early this morning of the Steven I know so well. Both Steve and I were taking cat naps when nurses and respiratory therapists weren't coming in and out. I think at some point, Steven woke up to see me asleep in the chair. Shortly after that, Angela the RN came in to tell us she was going home and Ryan would be taking over. In his best attempts to communicate, Steve let it be known that the nurses needed to bring in TWO blankets and he pointed at me. He wanted the blankets for me so I would be warm when I slept. That's my husband.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Fever
It's 10:45 pm and Steve has finally quieted down. His fever spiked to 102 and around 9 pm he started getting delirious again. He kept trying to get out of bed and was really disoriented, although he did know who I was but he didn't seem to know exactly where he was. I'm attributing that mostly to the fever because he seemed to be doing better earlier in the day when he only had a low grade fever. I think if we could get past the fevers, or possible infections or whatever is going on, we'd be making more progress.
The Metro officers in the security detail have been so great. They are truly an amazing group of people. On more than a few occasions, just today alone, they have comforted me while I was sobbing in the hallway. Thanks guys...you always seem to be coming around the corner just when I need someone to lean on.
Tonight will be a long night as I am the only one here from our family. I encouraged Steve's mom to take the night off because she desperately needed a break. This is taking a toll on all of us, especially Steve, and we're trying to remember to go easy on each other. We agreed in the beginning not to lose our tempers for the inconsequential things or at least not to take it personally when one of us does. But we can all feel the pressure building. Strangely I'm actually feeling quite peaceful at this moment. It's nice to be alone with Steve even if he is sleeping. Feels like being at home...
The Metro officers in the security detail have been so great. They are truly an amazing group of people. On more than a few occasions, just today alone, they have comforted me while I was sobbing in the hallway. Thanks guys...you always seem to be coming around the corner just when I need someone to lean on.
Tonight will be a long night as I am the only one here from our family. I encouraged Steve's mom to take the night off because she desperately needed a break. This is taking a toll on all of us, especially Steve, and we're trying to remember to go easy on each other. We agreed in the beginning not to lose our tempers for the inconsequential things or at least not to take it personally when one of us does. But we can all feel the pressure building. Strangely I'm actually feeling quite peaceful at this moment. It's nice to be alone with Steve even if he is sleeping. Feels like being at home...
Coping
After my breakdown yesterday, I went home to the kids whom I hadn't seen in two days. I needed the comfort of my connection to Steven through them. It was exactly what I needed to center myself so that I could be there for Steve. I know my last post was convoluted and all over the place so I will try to describe a clearer picture of where Steven is now. From what the nurses are telling us, the sedative that Steven was on for a week has deposited into the fat cells in his body. So now that he is no longer receiving the medication in his IV, it is still lingering in his body causing him to be disoriented. In addition, he is in pain, in shock, and on a level hard for us to comprehend, he is trying to come to terms with the temporary loss of his independence and his ability to communicate. All of this has caused a complete personality change from the Steven we all know. He has been very angry, even kind of violent at times. Now that we have been dealing with this, I know what to expect but yesterday when I saw this anger and confusion directed specifically at me, I was completely stunned and scared.
Physically, Steve's last chest xray did not look very good indicating that he is definitely still fighting pneumonia. He has had a fever as well. The doctors removed him from the ventilator and he was on room air but now he's back on the vent to help his lungs stay fully inflated. Later today he will go back on room air. While writing this post, Dr. Hanpeter came in. He advised that there's something, a possible infection in Steve's blood. That would account for the fever so they are treating him with more antibiotics. Tomorrow they may replace Steve's trach tube with a smaller one which will allow Steve to be able to talk but that all depends on how he does today without the ventilator. Interestingly, Dr. Hanpeter told us that it is very common for patients to have no recollection whatsoever of their intensive care unit experience and that Steve's aggressive behavior is likely caused by shock. Dr. Hanpeter is just excellent. He was very reassuring.
I am so grateful for all the comments on the blog. It means so much to know we are fully supported with love and healing thoughts from so many people. In particular, I'd like to thank Cheryl (MCD) for sharing the story about her son. Cheryl, the experience you shared about your son was exactly what I needed in the exact moment I read it. I am so very grateful that you shared that with me and so many others and I am especially grateful for your son's full recovery. I wish you and your family much love and peace.
We have a long way to go, but I'm hoping that we can only go up from here.
Physically, Steve's last chest xray did not look very good indicating that he is definitely still fighting pneumonia. He has had a fever as well. The doctors removed him from the ventilator and he was on room air but now he's back on the vent to help his lungs stay fully inflated. Later today he will go back on room air. While writing this post, Dr. Hanpeter came in. He advised that there's something, a possible infection in Steve's blood. That would account for the fever so they are treating him with more antibiotics. Tomorrow they may replace Steve's trach tube with a smaller one which will allow Steve to be able to talk but that all depends on how he does today without the ventilator. Interestingly, Dr. Hanpeter told us that it is very common for patients to have no recollection whatsoever of their intensive care unit experience and that Steve's aggressive behavior is likely caused by shock. Dr. Hanpeter is just excellent. He was very reassuring.
I am so grateful for all the comments on the blog. It means so much to know we are fully supported with love and healing thoughts from so many people. In particular, I'd like to thank Cheryl (MCD) for sharing the story about her son. Cheryl, the experience you shared about your son was exactly what I needed in the exact moment I read it. I am so very grateful that you shared that with me and so many others and I am especially grateful for your son's full recovery. I wish you and your family much love and peace.
We have a long way to go, but I'm hoping that we can only go up from here.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The Shock is Wearing Off
I've told several people that my motivation for posting updates about Steve's condition on the blog is selfish in nature. I do it because it's therapeutic for me to put my thoughts into words. But after reading the comments from so many of you, I realized that the encouragement, kind words, and inspiration you have offered is essential for our family's healing.
Today was brutal. I think my expectations were too high and I stupidly thought that the day after surgery Steve would somehow be kind of more a reflection of his old self. Boy was I wrong...in a big way.
I was very emotional when I woke up this morning because yesterday was so draining and yet at the same time I was so relieved thinking that the beginning of the recovery period had begun. We got to the hospital around 10 this morning and I felt so hopeful about seeing Steve. When we arrived, we were met by members of the security team who said that Steve had been awake since 7am and that he was off the sedation completely. He had woken up and had been very agitated and understandably very frustrated with his jaw being wired shut. I'm sure the inability to speak was a shock in and of itself. But then his body was in so much pain and he couldn't really move his arms at all. All of that coupled with trying to move out of the sedative fog he had been in for a week was all too much. He was angry and frustrated and trying to come off of heavy sedatives. Basically it's a terrible situation. The only saving grace is that he hopefully will not remember any of this.
This situation broke me today. It broke Steve's mom too. I can't even imagine what's going on in Steven's head. I have to remind myself of one of my favorite quotes from Ernest Hemingway that I posted a long time ago:
Today was brutal. I think my expectations were too high and I stupidly thought that the day after surgery Steve would somehow be kind of more a reflection of his old self. Boy was I wrong...in a big way.
I was very emotional when I woke up this morning because yesterday was so draining and yet at the same time I was so relieved thinking that the beginning of the recovery period had begun. We got to the hospital around 10 this morning and I felt so hopeful about seeing Steve. When we arrived, we were met by members of the security team who said that Steve had been awake since 7am and that he was off the sedation completely. He had woken up and had been very agitated and understandably very frustrated with his jaw being wired shut. I'm sure the inability to speak was a shock in and of itself. But then his body was in so much pain and he couldn't really move his arms at all. All of that coupled with trying to move out of the sedative fog he had been in for a week was all too much. He was angry and frustrated and trying to come off of heavy sedatives. Basically it's a terrible situation. The only saving grace is that he hopefully will not remember any of this.
This situation broke me today. It broke Steve's mom too. I can't even imagine what's going on in Steven's head. I have to remind myself of one of my favorite quotes from Ernest Hemingway that I posted a long time ago:
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.
Blood Drive Today
LAPD Southeast Division, where Andrew works, is having a blood drive right now in honor of Steve. We are overwhelmed with gratitude for the blood donations and can't say thank you enough to all who have donated not only their blood, but their time because some people are waiting up to two hours to donate! And our profound thanks go to all who have tried to donate blood but were turned away because there were so many people, there wasn't enough time to get to them all.
Two days ago, when Steve was taken off the propofol (sedative), he opened his eyes. I could tell he was looking straight ahead to the wall and trying to focus on whatever was there. I turned to see that he was looking at a poster from one of the blood drives while he was at Holy Cross. This particular poster was one on which countless generous and kind people wrote their well wishes for Steve. I told Steve that the poster he was looking at came from a blood drive and that many many people came to donate blood for him. I watched as tears streamed down Steve's face and we both cried. It's good Steve can't talk yet because he'd be speechless anyway. He is so very grateful.
To all who have already donated and to all who intend to donate blood today, on behalf of Steve and my entire family, I say thank you, with all my heart thank you.
Two days ago, when Steve was taken off the propofol (sedative), he opened his eyes. I could tell he was looking straight ahead to the wall and trying to focus on whatever was there. I turned to see that he was looking at a poster from one of the blood drives while he was at Holy Cross. This particular poster was one on which countless generous and kind people wrote their well wishes for Steve. I told Steve that the poster he was looking at came from a blood drive and that many many people came to donate blood for him. I watched as tears streamed down Steve's face and we both cried. It's good Steve can't talk yet because he'd be speechless anyway. He is so very grateful.
To all who have already donated and to all who intend to donate blood today, on behalf of Steve and my entire family, I say thank you, with all my heart thank you.
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Surgery Went Well
Drs. Urata and Hammoudeh came out to talk to us. As they were walking toward us they looked like angels in blue scrubs and I just wanted to run to them and hug them as hard as I could. They sat down with us in the waiting room and began by telling us that things went well. They explained that Steve had a large laceration in the lower right jaw that allowed them to go into the jaw and clean out some of the bone that clearly had lost blood flow and would not be viable. After doing that, they left the part of the jaw, which they said was literally in hundreds of pieces (a bag of bones they called it), where it was and started with wiring the jaw together. The lower right side of his jaw near his mandible joint had one large piece in tact and that is where they inserted the pins on the outside of his skin for that side of the external pin fixator. Then they inserted the pins for the other side and applied the fixator like a splint which he will wear for 8 weeks. After that, they will watch the bone with xrays and determine if Steve will need a bone graft. All in all, it will be about a year until Steve has teeth where they are now missing.
I have so many more thoughts about all that has happened today but I need to straighten them out in my head. I think I will have a little more clarity when I am able to sit quietly in Steve's room, when I am able to just sit in gratitude for all the good we have received. Until then, thank you to everyone who prayed or just surrounded Steve and the team of doctors in healing, supportive energy.
I have so many more thoughts about all that has happened today but I need to straighten them out in my head. I think I will have a little more clarity when I am able to sit quietly in Steve's room, when I am able to just sit in gratitude for all the good we have received. Until then, thank you to everyone who prayed or just surrounded Steve and the team of doctors in healing, supportive energy.
Update
I just heard from the O.R. nurse who said that the surgery is going well. They are waiting for an xray and Steve should be out of surgery in 20 - 30 minutes.
In Surgery
Steve just went into surgery. Right before he went, we met with the doctors, whom I feel very confident in, and they discussed in detail the approach they are taking with Steve. They will go in, possibly under the jaw and position the bones where they want them to give them the best possible chance to calcify and regrow. Then, they will wire the jaw shut and put external pins in place to hold the external fixator. Steve's jaw will be wired for 8 weeks or so and eventually down the road Steve will receive dental implants to replace the teeth he has lost. Right now, they know that there are for sure six teeth missing but they also know there are more that are loose.
Here are pictures of the two main surgeons:
Dr. Mark Urata
Dr. Jeffrey Hammoudeh
Although Steve has been heavily sedated since last night, I had the opportunity to be with him alone for a little bit about an hour before the surgery. It was emotional but very peaceful and reassuring. I woke him up to tell him how much I love him and I told him I did my best to find him the best surgeons. I didn't want to upset him but I couldn't help but cry softly as I held his hand. He opened his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. I know he understood.
I will continue to update as I receive news of the surgery.
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