Three weeks. Good Lord, three weeks.
Big Kid is down to 40% oxygen on the ventilator and 8 something of Peep---volume pressure.
They weaned him off the sedative and for the first time in 3 weeks, he's awake. Groggy, but there's somebody home.
In the next few days, as he comes out of it, they're going to start trying to determine if there is any major brain damage due to oxygen deprivation.
The nurse took his hand and leaned over him. "Big Kid, you're in the ICU. You've been very sick, but you're getting better. Can you tell me if you're having any pain?" The boy's hand fluttered up near his throat where the trach is.
The nurse went to get some pain meds, so I took his place.
"Hi, Sweetie!" I chattered at him a moment while he kept trying to focus on my face.
"Do you want me to bring you some music?" He made a movement with his head but I couldn't tell if that meant yes or no.
"How about some Britny Spears?" He shook his head with a definite no.
"How about some David Bowie?" He nodded vehemently. Well, at least his taste in music is intact.
He gave me a blinding smile.
Oh my boy, my precious boy.
Then he started sobbing. He's frightened and confused.
Oh my boy, my baby. I'm so sorry.
This morning I'm going to meet with Big Kid's doctors and a representative of another facility they're going to try to move him to in a few days. This facility only deals with long-term ventilator patients who are no longer in need of acute care. His lungs are still bad, especially the left one, and he probably won't be able to breathe on his own for a long time.
Afterwards, THD, Little Guy and I are scheduled to get our flu shots. I guess I didn't realize that I'm in a high risk category, but I am and our doctor is persistent.
Thanks again for all your continued support. It really does mean a lot.