9 days of hell

I am on the floor in tears rocking back and forth trying to comprehend the realm of how my world has just turned upside down. I can't stop thinking about what he is going to look like, how he is feeling, will he better off this way? OMG I HAVE TO CALL HIS MOM!!! When they bring me back into his room, it feels like almost an out of body experience. I'm looking at him and he's asleep yet his mouth is moving and he is coughing. I have to run out. Thy think that I am going to be sick, but i just had to get out to get some air and regain my composure. The doctor was very kind with me. He was patient and let me get it back together so he could explain what was going on. I sit down and look up at the clock...it's 3:30....time to make the call. They are up at the hospital within 45 minutes of my phone call. It is hard to believe that we are looking at david on a ventilator. They comfort one another while I stand there. I then go back to my little chair bed, alone....while they sit together. I imagine their thoughts are similar to mine.... Why did this happen? Will he be ok? But I have my own thoughts as well....what have I done? Are they mad that this is what I agreeded to? What will I tell the kids? How am I going to do this? In the morning I meet with so many doctors it is unreal. I am overwhelmed with information but I am able to ask question. I look like hell...I feel like hell.. My mom flies in and arrives at MD Anderson. I walk downstairs to find her and when I see her I run to her and fall apart...in the middle of the hall...I fall apart in my moms arms.... David is stable enough that I go home that night. I do not sleep well and I am back in the waiting room at 9:00 waiting to meet with the doctor. I do this everyday....and then leave about 9:30pm. I sit and talk to him, ask questions and hang out with his family. During the first few days they run lots of tests to try and figure out what the infection is...they finally come and tell me that he has over 1000 colonies of bacteria growing in his blood and he is septic. I am freaking out a little inside, but still keep it together. There are a lot of tears on this floor, but I can't do that right now. If I start I just won't stop....I must be strong...I will be strong...this will not defeat me...I will be relentless! They finally figure out that David has strep... Like strep throat....but it is in his blood stream. Inside I'm screaming...."ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? STREP THROAT???" Thy have to do a bunch of thimgs to find the source of the strep. So they put in a new PICC line in his right arm. Once they figure out it is in the right spot the pull the old one. Then they start using the new one. Well the doctor didn't like that because the antibiotics hadn't been on for 24 hours....so they are going to need to put in a groin IV port because it's possible the bacteria attached to the new PICC line. UGH! They get that in and pull the new PICC.... luckily David feels nothing! On Saturday morning I'm here and meet with the doctor.. He has strep, he septic, now he has pneumonia and adema...and they are worried about his kidney function. Can I not get any good news??? This is another decision I have to consider, another signature...will David understand why I did all of this? Will his family?? Am I making the right choice? These are the things that run through my mind while I'm signing on the line to start dialysis. Due to his weak state the process is explained in detail. The renal doctor has decided to do a slow moving 24 hour dialysis to help David. Sunday I am back at 9am meeting with doctors.... All looks good, he's stable and they dialysis is done and we are going to watch to see how the kidneys do. We have a great nurse on Sunday and she starts to get David turned and moving in his bed. H also gets a sponge bath. I tell him "you have two really cute young nurse who are going to bather you. I am giving you permission to enjoy yourself." we all laugh about this. Monday morning i call the nurse to see how the night was..she informs me that the sedation is off. Well I jump out of bed and I rush to the hospital. Meet with all the doctors, dialysis worked and we re going to watch him all day. I rush in to see David. I am so excited and nervous. I get to his room and I feel like I have been hit by a truck. NOTHING. NOTHING AT ALL. I stay all day and talk to him and wait and wait and wait. I decide to spend the night because i dont want him to wake up and be alone. nothing all night.... I am so sad and scared. The night nurse is so nice. She hears me crying and tells me it is ok that sometimes it takes time but that he will come around. I ask her through tears.."what if he wakes up and doesn't remember me? What if he doesn't know who I am?" she just smiles at me and tells me that everything's gonna be all right, On Tuesday i went home in the afternoon since there was no movement. Phil and Diane stayed. David started moving a bit In the afternoon. Phil would tell him to lift his head and he would. I was so happy to see the movement. My baby was coming back. At around 7 I told David big bang theory was on...he started sitting up and moving his hands and feet. He did this til 1030. Then went to sleep. It's 4am on Wednesday morning...45 hours no sedation and David is finally waking up. He's kicking his feet and pulling his arms and trying to sit up. He wiggled far enough down they had to reposition him. He's trying to sit up to get to his hand so he can pull the vent tube out. The awful thing is that we have to wait til sometime between 7-10 so the entire team of Dr.s can be here to assess him! it breaks my heart to see the pain in his eyes. I want to help him but can't. I keep him calm all through the morning. Through the breatng tests through the doctor visits and finally...... The Tube is out! He is opening his eyes and talking. Although it's not all making sense..... He's talking. I don't get anytime alone with him between the doctors and his family. It's weird... My husband is awake but he's not really my husband yet. He's not smiling, not laughing, not joking...it just breaks my heart. I finally get a second to see him and look into his eyes to tell him how happy I a he's awake and that's love him and he asks "how long have I been here". I explain....he has tears running down his face and so do I.... He just lost a week to sleep...while i sat at his bedside. I go home for a bit to shower and nap. When I return he is Sitting in chair. He stays there from 3-10. We have a good night. I am super lonely though.... I'm sitting next to my husband, but he still isn't back...he doesn't wanna talk, or look at me..its weird..he looks at me with pity, with sorrow, with confusion....I try not to look sad but inside my heart is shattered into a million pieces. Tuesday morning I'm up meeting with the doctors....I get the nasal tube out, get his liver checked cuz his eyes are a little yellow, I get a new PICC line put in his arms and his groin lines pulled out. He gets a liquid clear diet. He started physical therapy and occupational therapy. He is making great strides. He doesn't think so but he is. I am staying again because he asked me to. Butonce again I'm alone....he's here but what he needs is for me to be present.....but what I need is my husband to hold me, tell me he loves me and tells me it's all going to be ok. I can't wait for that day. That's the day I know my husband is back. Can't wait for that day when he mends my heart back together!!!