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Thursday. It’s hard to remember what day it is. Thankfully, they write the day and date on the board in Dave’s hospital room.

Yesterday started out rocky. Dave was exhausted, and was still running a fever. He is emotionally shredded, mostly because he’s not getting decent rest. I had slept a grand total of two hours, myself, the night before, so I wasn’t in great shape, either. Fortunately, the nurse for the day, Seung, was a wonderfully kind, patient man. He was so good with both of us. He suggested an anti-anxiety medication, because he could see that Dave was sitting here, just stewing over everything. It was turned down by the doctor, over concerns about depressing respiration, so Seung tried to find other things to occupy Dave’s mind. He suggested that we turn on the television, and talked football throughout the day. Too bad for him…he’s a Niners fan.

Dave was able to eat lunch, and was doing ok when I left to pick up Ben. I hoped that we’d both sleep better last night. I fell asleep at about 8:30, and one of the kids must have turned off the television. I don’t remember another thing until 4:45.

When I got to the hospital this morning, I found that Dave had had a rough night. They are bombing his system with two different antibiotics, and one of them nauseates him. He hadn’t kept anything down and had been sick all night. He hadn’t slept, either.

They gave him a second type of anti-nausea medication, and he tried to eat a little bit of cereal, but that didn’t sit well, either.

Today’s nurse normally works on the oncology floor. She said their specialty is nausea. (I would hope she was kidding. Yuck.). She’s checking on the possibility of Atavan. Though it’s an anti-anxiety medication, it is also used for nausea. That would be a two for one, in my book. Here’s hoping that they approve it.

Dr. Koep stopped in this morning, as well. Dave’s abdomen is red; but, it’s not draining like it had before, and it’s not hot. Dr. Koep spent some time checking the incisions. About the time he got what looked like really long Q-Tips and started poking them into the incision, I had to step out. Dr. Koep said that he’d be by every day, to check on him. That’s great; but, it doesn’t give us much indication as to when we can expect Dave to be discharged. We have a way to go.

We requested and received some earplugs. Dave’s popped them in and seems to have dozed off. His mom is coming by at some point, so the more he rests before that, the better.

What a long road this is. At the same time, though, I know that it’s not forever. They just need to knock the infection down and he’ll be on the road to recovery. His current roommate is an older gentlemen who has some very serious conditions. It sounds like they have to make plans for end of life details. It’s hard to be bitchy about noise levels with all of the activity on his side…there is a constant stream of specialists, palliative care specialists, phlebotomist, nutritionists, etc., coming in. They aren’t quiet, unfortunately. We’re going home. He is not.

This hospital is a very busy one. It’s a magnet hospital, and they are at maximum occupancy. We’ve had wonderful nurses, assistants, doctors…even the sweet lady who cleans the room every day. We are fortunate in our insurance, our jobs, and our situation. We know this.

We are more fortunate in the love and support that floods in from every corner. It makes me weepy when I think about it. From the interaction on social media, to the emails, texts and phone calls, to the pretty lights that my mom’s next door neighbor has hung in her kitchen window for Dave…I cannot express how much it means to us.

Though I’m a bit of a basket case these days, our kids are the pride of my life. They are going to school, Izzy is working, and they just keep things rolling at home. It’s in times like this that I am glad that we had our kids when we were young. Having older kids is a lot easier in times of crisis.

As the minutes and hours tick by, I know that we are that much closer to life returning to normal.


Image credit – Washington National Cathedral