More Miracles

David had his facial reconstruction surgery two days ago.  I brought the kids with me to the hospital that morning to make sure they saw him one last time looking somewhat normal and recognizable before the surgery.  David was tired from a restless night and wasn’t very responsive to them.  He did pat J on the back and head when he climbed onto the bed with him.

David was in surgery for about 5 hours.  The surgeon put nine metal plates in different areas of his face to stabilize all the fractures.  He checked David’s eye sockets but decided not to do anything to them.  They are pretty shattered but the bones were not displaced enough to warrant intervention.  

We were moved from the “neuro” floor to a different tower where Dr. Nip likes to have his patients recover from surgery.  He is very particular about. . . lots of things. . . but he apparently hand-picks what nurses he wants on his special floor to take care of his special patients.  In my opinion, the more particular the better when it comes to scalpels and titanium plates.  And his new room has a great view of the high rises and the ocean beyond.

David’s uncle came that afternoon and helped us move to our new room, and sat with me and David while he was coming out of his anesthesia.  I wanted to stay the night with David that first night after surgery just in case, so David’s uncle got a hotel for the night.  As the anesthesia continued to wear off David became progressively more restless and anxious and uncomfortable.  His pain meds had been switched during the surgery and I think that was a big part of his agitation.

At some point in the wee hours of the morning I nodded off and woke to the sound of ripping tape. . . David had gotten ahold of his PICC line and pulled the whole thing right out.  He had also managed to rip out his NG feeding tube and he made a valiant effort to free himself from his Foley catheter.  A peripheral IV was placed to keep him hydrated, but it wasn’t long before he pulled that out, too.

Well, David needed at least one functional line in him to keep him hydrated and so the doctor in charge for the night wanted to put him on some anti-psychotics to calm him down.  I told her absolutely not and so they put his wrists in restraints instead.  As soon as they all left the room David started struggling and fighting against the restraints.  He looked at me from his swollen face with panic in his one open eye and said very clearly “Please, please help me!”  Well, I couldn’t possibly leave him in the restraints after that so I freed him and somehow managed to stay awake the rest of the night to stop him every time he went for his IV, which was often.

The next morning he was worn out and so was I.  Dr Nip came in and managed to replace David’s feeding tube, then sutured it into place in his nose (ouch!).  When the trauma doctor came in we agreed to put David back on his pre-surgery pain meds.  The occupational therapist came in while I was talking with the Rehab Hospital representative and started working with David.  She sat him up, had him wash his face with a wash cloth and go through some range of motion exercises.

I explained a few things to David’s uncle and left to spend the rest of the day at home.  I asked him to keep me updated with texts about the goings on of the day.  I really didn’t expect anything too exciting, so I was astonished when I had barely gotten home and he texted me that David stood up and peed in his plastic urinal thing and reattached his own diaper!  The next text came less than an hour later.  David was trying to get out of bed and the nurses were trying to figure out why.  He used a pen to write “just for the view” on a blank piece of paper!!  I could hardly believe it so I asked him to send me a picture of what he wrote. . . . sure enough that’s what it looked like.  So they helped him stand by the window and sent me a picture of him gazing out.  I was overjoyed. . . . and really miffed that I was missing it!

The texts and pictures kept coming over the rest of the day. . . David up walking around with a walker, signing his name, taking a trip outside in the wheelchair, going to the bathroom on the toilet (no pictures of that one though), no more diapers, hanging out on the couch down in the lobby.  I just couldn’t believe it.  

The kids and I went to our church Christmas party and we had a great time.  I was a little bit nervous to be out at a social function. . . and it was especially hard to be in that familiar setting without David.  But I had a good time, especially with all the good news being texted to my phone at intervals.

When I arrived at the hospital this morning I came up the elevator to see David and his uncle hanging out in the little waiting area outside.  Apparently David had already been out cruising around in his walker/wheelchair for an hour and a half prior to my arrival.  David’s uncle wheeled him back into his room and David stood up with his walker, walked himself into the bathroom, undid his shorts and sat down on the toilet.  When he was done, he stood back up and tied the drawstring on his shorts, walked over to the sink and washed his hands.  To say I was stunned doesn’t even begin to cover it.  His breakthrough in the past 24 hours has been astonishing, unbelievable, miraculous.

The speech therapist came by today to assess his ability to swallow.  His face is still too swollen and sore to get a good read on that.  But she did also ask him a series of yes or no questions, random things like “Does a cork float on water?” or “Is a hammer the right tool to use to cut wood?”  The answers came slowly but he was able to answer them all correctly except one.  Then he fell asleep. 

He has since gotten up a couple of times to use the bathroom, and has taken a walk with the Physical Therapist around the halls in his walker.  The social worker came in to warn me that if he improves too much too fast he may not be accepted into the inpatient rehab hospital that we had planned on him going to after he is discharged from here.  Planning for discharge is a story for another day.  It has been very difficult trying to navigate that maze, especially not knowing beforehand what David’s condition will be when he is at that point.

Between this and that, visits from therapists and his mom/sister and our kids and taking a walk in the sunshine outside the day has gone by really quickly and happily.

I think back to almost 3 weeks ago.  It feels like a lifetime ago, and only yesterday that he was totally incapacitated, being kept alive by machines and chemicals.  There is still a lot left for him to accomplish but right now his progress make it all seem so very possible.

David checking out the view with his uncle

Cruising to the bathroom in his walker

Hanging out in the lobby

Demonstrating how to use a hair brush