End of day report for Monday, January 14

Yes, ok, I know, I know. I am SORRY. Please forgive me for skipping a day. Or two.  Or *cough* three.

Here’s the thing: Now that Kim is doing so well, there is a lot less to tell you guys! Each day is an incremental gain on the day before, in which Kim walks more, eats more, talks more… everything is more! Which is great and all, but makes it challenging for me to write anything incredibly interesting, e.g., “Kim is doing better. Again.”.  However, after a few days the small news gathers into bigger news, and I’ve got some tidbits for you at last.

So forgive me? Here goes..

Kim has been officially transitioned to “floor care” which means she’s no longer technically an ICU patient because she’s doing so great and doesn’t need the constant nurse attention. I say “technically” because they haven’t actually MOVED her to the floor (AKA across the hall to the rooms with better paneling and fewer nurses) because there aren’t any beds available over there. Even still, the intensity of her care and the frequency of visits from her medical team have tapered off almost to the point of concern. The truth is we did get concerned because we felt like we weren’t super clear on what we should be expecting as a result of the transition to the floor, and indeed were not even super clear that said transition had even occurred! Cheryl, Kim and I spent a good hour speculating on what was going on and finally called in Bekka who gave us much-needed answers.

So apparently, Jamil (suave, confident, strong jaw, Kim’s future dance partner) is now Kim’s primary doctor and the one calling the shots (with Dr. Mulligan consulting). The funny thing is, Jamil had been coming to check on Kim for the past several days, and we just thought he was some lowly resident making sure Kim’s trache was in good shape. During that time learned all about him; how long he’s been in Seattle (6 months), where he was before that (Detroit),  his country of origin (Lebanon). Pretty much everything of interest except for what his actual job at UWMC is. Turns out, he’s in charge of the patients on the floor, and thus Kim had been well-attended to all along, we were just clueless. Kim’s still taking Oxycodone so she’s got an excuse, but I’ve got nothin’ but myself to blame.

Meanwhile, you might remember Kim had four tubes in her chest post-op to drain all the excess fluids away. She’s now down to one, and Jamil says it looks pretty good that they’ll be able to pull that one in a couple of days. She’s also had her feeding tube taken out (as you can see from the picture she posted), and she’s only intermittently on any IV meds since they’re giving her everything in pill form now that she can swallow. So the only real tether she’s got is the tube attached to her trache which delivers humidified room air to keep her throat from drying out.  This means she’s MUCH more mobile, and she and I have taken two unassisted (i.e., no nurse) strolls around the ICU. She’s walking many hundreds of feet every day, and has just started in with 6 minute walk tests. This tests measures how far you can walk in 6 minutes and is well-known to Kim as it’s a standard gauge of respiratory and cardiac fitness. 

But what about that trache? Well, since she’s no longer on oxygen, Jamil is in the process of weaning her off the trache by reducing the size of the tube. In two or three days, she should have the tube removed entirely and then it’s just a matter of healing up (which happens quickly, they say) and she’s good to go. At that point, the only things left on the list are regaining more strength in her legs, ensuring the incision pain is tolerable, and giving us an education on home care. We’re still looking at 5-7 days or so, but it finally feels like the end of Kim’s stay is in sight. She’s anxious to get home, of course, and we are all anxious to have her here!