I like it when you're here

James was the subject of a student nursing demonstration this morning to change his bed clothes and I thought he tolerated it very well.  He had six student nurses and their teacher doing what is essentially a two person job.  The teaching nurse asked me to share the details of James's case and I gave a quick synopsis to her and her students.  She had to momentarily leave the room to find supplies for all the students (dressing gowns for each student, water tub, foam soap) and one of the students turned to me and said, "Are you a doctor or nurse?"  I had to laugh. I said, "No, I am the wife!"

I gave James a spa treatment today to get him ready for his new digs!  I clipped his nails and massaged his hands with Deb's bee balm (Beacon honey bees are contributing to James's recovery!). His skin is quite dry so I spent significant time attending to his feet, hands, legs and arms.  The physical and occupational therapists have taught me stretches that I may do on my own without the need of an assistant, very similar to the stretches I learned as a massage therapist, so I have incorporated that into our morning routine.  When his floor nurse saw me working on his feet, she told me, "You are a good wife--I would never touch my husband's feet." She then screwed her face up into a look of disgust, thinking of her husband's feet, given as only a long-time partner is able to do without shame.

James is far more alert now in a very specific way. He is comprehending his surroundings, especially his own body.  He actually tried to pull off the breathing tube this afternoon.  I had to scold him.  I said, "What the hell, Jim, what do you think you are doing?"  He looked a little ashamed at me.  I may have made the mistake of telling him he is able to breath on his own and that the tube is there to help break up the congestion in his chest that he has to cough out. He dislikes immensely the light plastic tube the blows moist air ever so lightly on his trachea opening--perhaps it creates a strange sensation. He asked me to wash his face--very simple things that he's noticing--and then, he asked for a glass of water--mouthing the word water.  I had to explain that he is not able to swallow.  He was so sad about that as his mouth is so dry. He had oral care up in the NICU but nothing on the regular floor. The nurses are busier on the regular hospital  floor and there are less of them. I asked his nurse to please give him an oral wipe and she ran off to find the supplies.  She held them up triumphantly just as I was leaving telling me, "I found it and I will clean his mouth for you!"

I cannot wait to get him out of Bellevue!  He is so ready to go now.  Every day he is more alert and I have to provide him with painful details (how much time has passed, for example).

I am able to see in his face that he is comprehending more and when I ask him if he understands, he sadly shakes his head yes.

Tomorrow is Imogen's last day of Spring Break. We had planned that James would spend the entire week with her and he had wanted to make a small road trip to Philadelphia.  James loves road trips because he's allowed to be "king" while driving which means, he is allowed to eat whatever junk food he likes, including soda pop, and he's in charge of the music.  Imogen groans about the musical selections as I recall myself doing at her age in my father's car.

Our dinner yesterday was prepared by a former Greenpoint family, the Vaughn-Kauffmans, that now live two hours outside the city!  That boggles my mind!  They brought us food in a special bag with cold packs to keep everything fresh.  Love out to Kelley, Pat, Everett and Reese--the chicken soup and bread was delicious!

As I was leaving, James kept gripping his gown in his right hand. I asked him, "What are you doing, does that feel good to grab something in your hand?"  He nodded.  I joked, "Do you want me to bring a stuffed animal for you to squeeze?" and he nodded again!  I thought that was a bit much so I asked, "How about that airport pillow that we kept in the car for Imogen?"  He agreed!  I find it curious that grabbing an object is comforting for him--I wonder what that could be about in his mind or just tactilely speaking.  I molded the pillow I brought from home (yes, I had to bring two pillows to the hospital because the others he had in the NICU did not travel with him, nor his bolster to keep his body rotated away from hot spots for bed sores) into a bit of cylinder and placed his hand on it. He was gripping it when I left for the day.

One more day at Bellevue.  This is the first time in years when I am looking forward to a Monday!