I knew this time was different when we pulled into the entryway. A dozen or so cars all waiting to either move or be moved, patiently we sat in silence. As we made our way to the front of the line you could feel the tension. Slowly crawling to a halt, she simply looked at me, opened the door and quietly muttered; I’ll see you in a bit, I love you.
Jacy hadn’t been feeling good. She always has a cough, has had one since January 2 when she was released from Stanford and sent home. It is associated with GvHD but as of late it has gotten stronger and raspier. Several nights she spent coughing, tossing and turning, not only to the cough but a stomach ache, headache and over all exhaustion. The type of exhaustion that actually leaves you wide awake, praying for sleep, any sleep to come and come quickly. Each rising of the sun signaled defeat for her and mentally it was taking its toll.
Then came Monday night.
Monday she awoke with a fever. A fever is fine, it means her new immune system is trying its very hardest to work. A fever over 100.4 is bad! It signals her system is about to become inundated, unable to handle whatever is causing her grief. She hovered all night at 99.8/99.9 worrying it would tip the scales against her in which case we head straight to Stanford, do not pass go, do not collect $200.00 dollars! (Sorry for the monopoly reference)
It was a very long night.
It took quite a bit of hounding only because my wife is super stubborn but I finally convinced her to call her doctor. Jacy’s stubbornness is not born out of neglect for her own care but instead out of fear! Fear she will walk through those large glass doors at Stanford and be held prisoner for another 8 months. She has bad dreams where she is back and they won’t let her leave. Crying, sobbing, and pleading to just let her go home. This of course is no reflection on the care given at Stanford! Quite the contrary, there is no other place she would rather be when in need. The staff is amazing and we still cannot say enough about the nursing care. It is derived from an imprisonment away from life and her family for which she nor anyone I suppose could ever have imagined! 8 months is an eternity.
Once she put down the phone I knew instantly we were headed back. They promised it was just to check her out but as that little voice in the back of your head tells you; there is more to it than that!
The next day somberly we loaded into the car. Jacy tried her hardest not to cry as we crept out of the driveway. Looking back as our place grew smaller she withdrew, finding something on the radio so as to not talk or focus on the unknown. It was the longest 2 ½ hour ride ever.
I’ll see you in a bit, I love you.
The door closed, I pulled away heading towards the parking structure two blocks away. Walking back I kept telling myself it was going to be an easy fix, they would give her some medication and send us home. (Of course life experience told me different, it was just easier to play dumb and lie to myself.) No stay, no hospital and no more fear raging deep inside. Apparently I have Stanford PTSD for as I walked closer to the building my chest tightened up, my heart rate accelerated and it became hard to breath. Why? Because deep down inside I knew she was going to stay.
Once inside I found her room, testing had already begun. Doing my best to make her laugh, we once again found the Stanford staff to be exceptional. Killing time while we waited I turned on the SF Giants game, they were facing the Atlanta Braves, it was a nice distraction as it was the first time in forever we both were able to sit in the same room and watch the game together.
After a couple of hours, with a chest X-ray under our belt it became apparent they were going to admit her to the hospital. Jacy’s oxygen saturation levels were extremely low which explained her need to sleep for what seemed like 20 hours a day. This news was of course devastating. Jacy kept insisting we could go home and come back the next day, but there was no way they were going to let us travel with her sat numbers so low. We also had another issue. Where to put her. Stanford was at maximum capacity, as in no beds available! The suggestion came down to place her in the Emergency room until a bed could open up. This was not going to happen! The consensus was she needed an isolation room as to limit her exposure to any germs or viruses, yet placing her in this (ER) contaminated place was the answer? Uh NO!
Repeatedly her doctor reaffirmed she would be moved as soon as possible. Jacy would look at me and just as quickly I would reaffirm my stance which was indeed our stance of NO. We would drive home, take the two hour risk of low O2 numbers until she could be hooked up to her own oxygen machine over being left in the ER for who knows how long. The doctor very politely took a stronger position trying to explain all the associated risks for which we already knew, but we held our ground. Isolation room or we go home. What she didn’t know because I am not one of those people is; because of my job I already knew the risks, knew the low percentage of something dire actually happening and had one ace in the whole. There (an exaggeration) are like 92 fire houses between here and home that at any moment I could pull into and receive instant care for any breathing emergency that might arise. But I was extremely confident considering her presentation that would not be an issue.
Jacy’s nurse came in 30 minutes later to have her verbally state her stance or refusal to be sent to the ER for which we chuckled as you could plainly see he was working on a plan. There just seemed to be a gleam in his eye that showed he was up to something good! And he was! Long story short, our nurse pulled some strings, made numerous phone calls and worked it so after the ITC (Infusion Treatment Center) was closed Jacy could stay in her little room until an isolation room opened up in the main hospital. He stayed behind on his own, after everyone had left to ensure she didn’t get moved to the ER. He was incredibly caring and amazing. Once again the staff of Stanford inspires me.
We arrived at noon and now 10 hours later, Jacy was in her own room, terrified but understanding of the situation. She had already received her first doses of medication and was getting ready to start another round. The treatments were to be every 8 hours for a couple days. When I walked out the door to head home at 10:30pm I was both relieved and sad. Relieved she would finally get the care she needed to breath properly again. Relieved she was being examined for any other complications or hidden problems that may arrive, relieved that she was in the very best of care, relieved that so many people care about my amazing wife. Sad that we were here. Even though I knew when we walked out in January we would not do so unscathed. Sad that I was walking these halls once again, alone. Sad that I was driving home once again, alone. Terrified once again of the unknown and sad that our children were seeing mom disappear once again to be left alone.
Thankfully, we are a tight family and we have faith to keep us strong.
UPDATE: Just received the phone call!!!! I am headed to pick her up right now. She is coming home! Her voice sounds great! Her lungs sound clear! Prayers, good vibes, powerful thoughts of positive energy all worked yet again!!! Another obstacle hurdled!!!
6/4/2016 @ 11:00 am
One thought on “Oh how the wheels turn…”
I found myself holding my breath reading this post! And as I prayed through each line, it was such a relief to read the end of the post and that Jacy is once again at home.
Thank You Dear Lord for answered prayer.
God bless that wonderful doctor at the staff at Stanford.
Take good care…you are in our daily thoughts and prayers.