Sweet Dreams

I'm sitting here next to Phil, the two of us "canoodling" according to the nurses, in his single hospital bed.  This is a strange place to be writing the blog from, but it works for today.  He's asleep, more or less, his slumber punctuated by the occasional fitful dream wherein he appears to be conducting an orchestra or perhaps, filing things.  As an observer, I really can't tell.  You see, I've never actually seen my husband dream.  Usually I am asleep right beside him, not sitting next to him for hours at a time watching him reach for unseen objects or listening to his snippets of conversations or partially delivered speeches .  It is both educational and instructional but at this juncture I have to say it is mostly unsettling.  


He was like this all of yesterday and it was sobering, in case you couldn't tell from my post.  The infection combined with the fatigue and all the meds really had him wiped out.  When I called Phil's cell phone this morning I really wasn't expecting him to answer.  When he did I was beyond thankful just to hear his raspy voice.  What's more, he told me he was reading his Kindle -- I about choked on my coffee!  Talk about a turn around.  He still sounded terrible but he was reading, focusing, and using his mind Glory Be to God.


I was really anxious to see him and talk through all that had happened in the last 36 hours; to see what he remembered and make certain he understood what was going on.  When I finally got everything handled at home and got over to the hospital I walked in to find him in much the same condition as yesterday - conducting his magnum opus.  Turns out he was getting another unit of blood and was totally snowed on 50 mg of Benadryl to prevent an allergic reaction to the blood products -- so he's completely gonzo, zonked, out-of-it, looped, in la-la land again.  Crap!  What have you done to my husband - I wanted to talk to him!  This time though, I get it.  It's not all infection and bad news making him act this way.  I have that little gift of having heard his voice, the clarity in it and the focused intent in his words to hang onto.  


Today being Saturday, apparently no physician in their right mind wanted to round on the patients before 3 o'clock so I timed my visit just right.   I was here in time to get the report of the day straight from the oncologist and infectious disease doc's mouths and things are indeed looking better.  It is so very good to have their objective report because even as a trained medical professional, it is difficult to know what to make of such a difficult situation when one is personally involved.


His blood cultures are indeed growing out a bacterial infection, E. coli.  Before you freak out -- we're not talking about the tainted hamburger meat type or the flesh-eating bacteria here.  Just plain old garden variety E. coli.  That's not to say it is harmless but just don't go losing your minds.  The ID folks believe his port should be fine and they are making several changes to his antibiotic regimen.  He was apparently on 5 when I thought he was on 3.  Shows you what happens when you grab a cat nap.  He will continue on ceftriaxone as well as the antiviral and antifungal.


His CSF cultures have yet to grow any bacteria which is good news.  The rest of the studies will be in later in the week - things like Valley Fever, toxoplasmosis, herpes, etc.  The outliers so to speak.  Until then it's stay the course.  


Phil will get more RBCs today to boost his anemia and begin to get Neupogen (a more rapid acting agent) to stimulate WBC cell production.  Once his WBCs come back he should rebound much more quickly and feel significantly better.  Lastly he will see the ophthalmologist to begin some exercises to regain the use of the muscles in his eye and prevent any further losses.  


He's got his work and recovery cut out for him.  It really amazes me to think, he's only completed one cycle of chemotherapy.  Yikes, just 4 to 6 more to go.  Think we'll stick with taking those one day at a time.  For now, so what if Phil likes to conduct orchestras, or file things, or compose speeches in his sleep?  I think it's great that he's dreaming these few days away in a medicinal fog - God know he's earned it.