No WWL Radio Tonight

Updated: We canceled the brain scan appt due to the weather, and Mike opted out of a reschedule. We agreed that if the lung cancer is killing him this fast, the brain cancer, if its in there? Redundant test and pointless 30k out of pocket. Sigh.

Of COURSE, every time we have had a Doctors appointment this past month, there has been weather; today is no exception. We had an freezing rain overnight and everything is glare ice.

By 6;30 am I was tied to the local news, amazed that there were no school closings. Nearly every major freeway around here had been closed due to accidents. They finally, about 15 minutes before Jake’s bus put his school on a 2 hour delay.

Last night was already tough. Our first truly frightening day. I didn’t expect it because he had a fairly good day. I think because his friend came over, and the oxygen tech, he didn’t get his day-sleep in and over exhausted himself. Or maybe it grew just enough to finally collapse that airway enough that even coughing can’t get air into the collapsed right lung. I dunno.

He struggled to breathe all evening. Gasping, breathing too fast… I had to keep talking him through trying to slow it down. I spent four hours watching his every breath. I finally got him to sleep and it normalized. Part of it I think is that he took his Ty 3 too late. The other is he panic attacked about it. But the obstructed airways sound worse by the day. Its like it went from not-good to “I didn’t expect this for months” in a few days. On oxygen no less. “In through your nose slow, babe, don’t try and make it too deep or you’ll cough… then out through your mouth like a straw.” A few times when it got too fast and I could see his chest and stomach almost convulse, I resorted to having him “sssss” it in through clenched teeth with a wide mouth barely parted, and blow out just to control the spasm. Almost like childbirth breathing. Neither one worked too well. He couldn’t lay down, or he started coughing uncontrollably, felt like he was choking/drowning. “I can’t get air!” is the most he could muster to speak the whole time.

So all he could do is sit up. He was hunched, weak, so I sat behind him and supported him against my body, holding his shoulders back trying to open the chest cavity more, so he wasn’t crunching it more by bending that far up. I kept being afraid he would just stop last night, or pass out. He has asked me for a DNR and no life support under any circumstances. So, am I supposed to just let him stop breathing already, or call an ambulance if it gets worse? I realized I will have to watch him die at some point, but last night shoved it home. Its horrifying to stand watch for hours doing nothing but watching someone breathe. I even watched for hours after he fell asleep.

He’s sleeping, and breathing ok now, ok being relative. It still sounds like a death rattle and is shallow and quick, but its even at least.

I am seriously worried about getting him in the car, let alone the drive.  I am loathe to wake him, afraid it will start another attack. But they want the brain scan. Not gonna make much difference if he can’t breathe though.

I have been dreaming that I cannot sleep and am trying to get to sleep in the dream itself, exhausted and unable to get rest. Don’t need Freud to figure out what that means. But last night, thankfully, I slept sound until the alarm. The first time in a week I got more than 4 fitful hours. Then I felt bad because I should have checked on him. Yeah, I know, I ain’t superwoman.

Gah. I’m off today, at least. Though I have no idea what I will do with myself w/o the show and him catching up his rest.  Linda has plans, so no yahtzee distraction. Maybe he will let me give him a sponge bath.

Maybe I’ll be able to write something of Political substance today. That would be nice. My brain gets too full if I can’t purge it on paper.  

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    • Diane G on March 4, 2011 at 15:15
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    Even as prepared and pragmatic and calming as I am; last night shocked me. It was terrifying. Its only been what? Since Monday we got the news and already the fucking struggle to live?

    • Edger on March 4, 2011 at 15:53



    The Way We Were
    Terry moved on nearly two years ago now. I’m fairly sure though, knowing Terry, that he’s 18 again, and he’s got a table right up front near the stage where he can look up at the angels, and has already ordered a round and has some extra chairs at the table for anyone who follows.

    Take care Diane. My best to Mike…

    • Xanthe on March 4, 2011 at 16:05

    and a precis of our healthcare system.

    Ah, hang on Diane – You are doing (if I may say) women’s work/God’s work.

    Bless you both.  

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