Things seem to be going well, and I enjoy a lull of complacency. Then a new piece of information arrives, and back comes the dread of what might happen. It's the roller coaster ride of hope and fear, watching my emotions swing up and down like the graphic on the monitor for Patty's breathing, swinging up and down from green into red and back into green again with each cycle of breath.
Two days ago, news of Patty's swollen trachea and her being put back on the ventilator swung my emotional state deep into the red zone. Suddenly there is a new tone that accompanies my awareness in such a state. Then, the next day, looking better, and finally transferring to the new hospital, that index swings up into the green zone. My humor comes back. I can walk upright again, not shoved forward by despondency.
My tendency to be literal ("literal Luteral") wants to write this all down, chronologically, getting the pertinent details in close focus. Trying to generalize just doesn't seem to do it. But I have to settle for something in between the two.
By yesterday, in fact the day before, Patty was snug in a big, modern hospital bed in a more modern facility: Srinagarind Hospital. It's the place Lak has been wanting to get Patty into for well over a month-- ever since her first round in ICU at Khon Kaen Hospital. Yesterday we bought, and brought to her, a cool mobile that plays music while plastic penguins rotate around the axis, with a central penguin. Also a very lovely comforter with a rabbit, with hands, feet and ears that flop out from the fabric, and a matching set of pillows--"big baby" size. She looks like a little princess nestled in her bed with new amenities-- gifts from a couple of wonderful, caring friends, who've been following the story of Patty from the near the beginning.
The equipment there is impressive. The nurses seem to be very on top of things, and knew a lot about her within a few hours-- more than we'd known. I've thought, this appearance might easily give us a false sense of security. Perhaps this thought was informed by having listened to a talk about security a couple days ago (on my iPod), given by Ajahn Sumedho, a senior Buddhist monk who is from America and has spent much time as a monk in Thailand.
Now, two days later, we have perhaps been lulled into that complacent place again. But just now, while eating breakfast, a medical student called to ask us to come early for our noon visit, at which time we have an appointment to talk to a doctor about Patty. The nurse told Lak that they need to do some procedure (my words) with Patty, and want to talk with us about it at eleven. So, here comes the anxiety again, along with the question of what this may be about.
Now later, after that appointment: It turns out there are two Pornthips in PICU, and they'd called our number about the other one. The call was a false alarm. The talk I did have with a doctor was not alarming. But there is one thing they need to investigate more, and that's Patty's slow heart rate and low blood pressure, for which they are giving her Dopamine now.
A cardiologist will give Patty the ECHO that I thought she'd already had. (Another mis-communication.) Then we may know more about that.
In the meantime.... home for lunch, a long nap, and planning to back to visit late this afternoon.
Two days ago, news of Patty's swollen trachea and her being put back on the ventilator swung my emotional state deep into the red zone. Suddenly there is a new tone that accompanies my awareness in such a state. Then, the next day, looking better, and finally transferring to the new hospital, that index swings up into the green zone. My humor comes back. I can walk upright again, not shoved forward by despondency.
My tendency to be literal ("literal Luteral") wants to write this all down, chronologically, getting the pertinent details in close focus. Trying to generalize just doesn't seem to do it. But I have to settle for something in between the two.
By yesterday, in fact the day before, Patty was snug in a big, modern hospital bed in a more modern facility: Srinagarind Hospital. It's the place Lak has been wanting to get Patty into for well over a month-- ever since her first round in ICU at Khon Kaen Hospital. Yesterday we bought, and brought to her, a cool mobile that plays music while plastic penguins rotate around the axis, with a central penguin. Also a very lovely comforter with a rabbit, with hands, feet and ears that flop out from the fabric, and a matching set of pillows--"big baby" size. She looks like a little princess nestled in her bed with new amenities-- gifts from a couple of wonderful, caring friends, who've been following the story of Patty from the near the beginning.
Patty's bed is very similar to this; maybe hers looks more comfy, now with a pretty pink and yellow rabbit comforter, a penguin mobile dangling from above, and numerous pillows.
The equipment there is impressive. The nurses seem to be very on top of things, and knew a lot about her within a few hours-- more than we'd known. I've thought, this appearance might easily give us a false sense of security. Perhaps this thought was informed by having listened to a talk about security a couple days ago (on my iPod), given by Ajahn Sumedho, a senior Buddhist monk who is from America and has spent much time as a monk in Thailand.
Now, two days later, we have perhaps been lulled into that complacent place again. But just now, while eating breakfast, a medical student called to ask us to come early for our noon visit, at which time we have an appointment to talk to a doctor about Patty. The nurse told Lak that they need to do some procedure (my words) with Patty, and want to talk with us about it at eleven. So, here comes the anxiety again, along with the question of what this may be about.
Now later, after that appointment: It turns out there are two Pornthips in PICU, and they'd called our number about the other one. The call was a false alarm. The talk I did have with a doctor was not alarming. But there is one thing they need to investigate more, and that's Patty's slow heart rate and low blood pressure, for which they are giving her Dopamine now.
A cardiologist will give Patty the ECHO that I thought she'd already had. (Another mis-communication.) Then we may know more about that.
In the meantime.... home for lunch, a long nap, and planning to back to visit late this afternoon.
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