Two. Lousy. Hours.

Part of my daily ‘ritual’ after rounds, is to walk over to the RMH and take a shower, maybe find some breakfast or a snack I can bring back to the hospital with me. Today was no different, I left David’s room about 9:30am. I’m usually gone an hour.

So about 10 minutes to walk over and get up to the room. Stop down to the kitchen and eat a bit of breakfast (kindly made by a group of volunteers) and back to the room for a shower. I chatted with a couple ‘regulars’ along the way, so I was back at my room ready for a shower about a quarter after 10.

Really, I have a purpose in relaying all these mundane details about my day, so bear with me.  I’ll admit, I took an extra long shower today – my one ‘perk’ is I don’t have to share the hot water with anyone. Sometimes a long hot shower is just what I need to re-focus my energies and get through another 24 hours with the Captain.

I must have known I’d need it today.

I arrived back at the room at 11:30am. I was out of his room for 2 hours. Walking, chatting, eating, showering. Twice as long as normal, I’ll admit, but really, I was only gone for 2 hours.

Two. Lousy. Hours.

Every couple hours our Chaperone, (who we love, btw) changes his diaper, turns him from one side to the other, does mouth care and takes his vitals. When I left at 9:30, she had just started to check his diaper and get him moved.

Apparently after I left, David started to bleed profusely from his mouth.

And then he de-satted. His oxygen level dipped, his lung volumes plummeted, doctors had to be called. Respiratory therapists, chest x-rays, blood drawn, ventilator adjustments, attempts to slow the bleeding, drugs to paralyze and sedate.

Two. Lousy. Hours.

They think he may have aspirated blood into his lungs. He’d started bleeding, he was being moved, I’m sure his swallow reflex is weak, the blood just found it’s way down.


He’s settled now, the increase in the ventilator settings seemed to help, the chest x-ray didn’t show anything and while his first round of blood-work during the episode was awful, subsequent blood draws have gotten better, still not great, but better. They’ve kept him sedated to allow the ventilator to do all the work, giving his lungs a chance to rest.

Does anyone else see the irony in all of this? Every damn day, I sit here, by his side, taking small inconsequential breaks to shower and grab a bite to eat. The one day I let my chatty nature get the best of me. The one day I decide to take an extra long hot shower. The one day I could have lost him because everyone tells me go, take a break, he’ll be fine.

Two. Lousy. Hours.

Makes me never want to leave this room again.

Categories: Life | Tags: , , , | 18 Comments

Post navigation

18 thoughts on “Two. Lousy. Hours.

  1. Hun sometimes they say things happen when nobody is around bc of the pain the loved one has! You should know that you did nothing wrong and you didn’t know! I’m sorry u have to go through all of this your such a great woman and caring mom! David is lucky to have u as his mom hun! I pray the rest of the day goes better for him and you! God Bless You!! Stay strong!!

  2. All I have to offer is a virtual hug… I’ve been there before and am there again.. I feel your pain and so much more. Much love to you and the capt.

  3. Amy, I can’t even imagine how frustrated you feel right now. However, it is important for you to have this little bit of time to yourself each day just to maintain your sanity and to muster up the strength to get through another day. I’m so sorry the Capt. hit a bump in the road today. You guys are in my thoughts and prayers. Don’t beat yourself up about this, you are an amazing Mom.

  4. mooney=mc2

    Now you know that you have to take care of yourself. It was terrible timing. A coincidence and nothing more. You cannot stand guard 24 hours a day. That shower is YOUR time. He didn’t bleed because you were gone and everyone that needed to be there when it happened was there, doing their job and getting him straightened out as best they can. We Mommy’s, we just take on so much guilt…that is the last thing that you need to do to yourself.

    and listen…even God rested on the 7th day.

    Not because He NEEDED the rest. But to show us that we all should.

    Sorry that David had a rough morning.
    Stay strong!

  5. Pingback: Tweets that mention Two. Lousy. Hours. | transplanted thoughts --

  6. I see that others have already given you a bit of a pep talk, so I’ll just join in. It’s OK that you took a long shower. It’s OK that you took an extra hour for yourself. Not only because you need to stay strong for the Captain, but because you need to take care of YOU. So please, please, please do not feel guilty about taking some extra time. This was just a coincidence. The Captain has settled, blood draws are getting better. Breathe…
    And know that there are many, many people rooting for you, and for David. I’ve been getting emails, messages on my wall, comments to the updates I post. This morning at the autism conference, a friend who has been following the story asked me about David and told me that her little daughter prays for him every day, and asks about how he is doing.
    Just telling you all of this so you can feel the hugs coming your way.

  7. Oh Amy. I understand that feeling of frustration, but you can’t give up eating and showering and taking a few minutes away. Both of my parents had extended illnesses before passing, and we stayed with them nearly 24/7. But you know what? They both passed when they were alone. It happens. I don’t know why–maybe they didn’t want to leave us with the memory of that final breath?

    I am hoping and praying and believing that David will pull through, but if he doesn’t, it will be OK if you’re not there at that moment. There will be so many angels in that room, tending to his every need and comforting his spirit and accompanying him to heaven. Of this I am certain.

  8. carrie

    Continued prayers and hugs your way. I agree with the others, obviously you have to be able to eat and get a shower. You are the most amazing mama ever, so please don’t beat yourself up for having basic human needs. Praying tomorrow will bring easier times.

  9. Sophie S

    I found your blog on the Sunday blog hop, and I am glad I did . I am following by email because I did not see a way to follow in my Google reader.

    I have been where you are now, not as a parent, but with family. Out of all nine sibs, I am the only one with two healthy kidneys. I am their potential donor and I never really know if/when I will ever need to help one of them. It always seems that the minute you walk away, head out of town, enroll in school that something happens.

    Blessings to you and your family.

  10. sharon

    Hugs, what else can I offer… You need to take a break regularly or you won’t be able to function at all if/when things go awry. But I understand what you mean about time.

    David is still fighting against everything setback his body throws at him and I will keep hoping for a better tomorrow.


  11. Ohmygoodness…How scary! 😦 Sending you tons and tons of prayers.

    I’m a new follower from the Sunday blog hops. I am anxious to read more about your family.

    Dawn @ Mom-a-Logues

  12. Big hugs, but try to take your little bit of time to yourself, if you run yourself into the ground then you will be of no help to him so you need that little break. Jen

  13. Oh no. I am so sorry. . . I wish I had more words to say- I am thinking of you and your family.

    I’m enjoying your blog and adding you to my reader- I love that about ICLW- finding other great bloggers in the blogosophere but I am sorry that you are hurting right now- thinking of you

  14. Here from ICLW, and I really like what Mindy said. I’m not one to usually talk about G-d a lot, but she’s right: even G-d rested on the 7th day. Not because He was tired, but to give us the gift of rest, just like we got darkness and light, etc. You need some time for you. Anyway, please please don’t feel bad about taking 2 hours to yourself. Best wishes.

  15. Wow. Really.

    Sending you hugs and prayers.

  16. Pingback: That morning | transplanted thoughts

  17. Pingback: Some days | transplanted thoughts

  18. I keep commenting because I want you to know that I’ve been here, but I’m being redundant.
    This isn’t fair. And the post that I was reading which linked me here isn’t fair either.

    I don’t know why it is that some people get to pray themselves and their families back into health. Why for some people, the best that the doctors can do is good enough, and everything works out okay… And why sometimes really shitty things happen to really good people. Good parents who do their best and try their hardest, and who still have to watch their loved ones slip away.

    I wish that your hopes, prayers, thoughts and consistency had been enough. I wish my wishes were worth something, and could be somewhat effective.
    But in the end? They’re just not.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

%d bloggers like this: