Day T + 25 and counting.

Well it's been a while since the last post.

Friday night Boone's lungs were filling up with fluid.  Even with the O2 running he was not getting enough oxygen to sustain himself.  Fortunately a nurse was in the room with him when he began the normal and natural panic attack associated with not being able to breathe.

She and others I suppose took Boone in his own bed and literally ran to the ICU.   Pretty much as soon as they got there, he coded.  Fortunately, the ICU doc was standing right there.  He said they had to do CPR for 2-3 minutes to get him back.  Then he was hooked up to an intubation machine to put oxygen in and suck the fluid out.  Three large hoses going down his throat.

I got the phone call telling me I should get down to the hospital ASAP.   By the time I arrived Boone's brother was already at the ICU.  One nurse commented that he had more machinery in his room than she had ever seen.  There was one nurse, he said sang to him to help calm him down.  Apparently, telling him he's ok and everything is fine now, made him really mad.   He asked me to sing "Soft Kitty" to him.  I can't carry a tune in a bucket, so I spared everyone that misery.

Day 2 of the ICU, his kind and wonderful nurse called me early that morning to tell me he was fine and she thought it would be good if  the family could take a day off.  Bless her heart, she told Boone she told us to stay away.  That he needed to rest.  Frankly, so did I.  On day 3 of the ICU, he asked the nurse to call to see what time I'd be there.

At least during this visit to the ICU he was more lucid.  He had been off the opiates for 7-8 days, but his pupils were still constricted.  They didn't have to restrain him as much as the last trip.  He tried to pull out the intubation equipment, but once the nurse got in his face and made him understand he couldn't do that, he settled down a bit with the help of some Valium.

He's back in the BMT ward now.  Not getting up like he should, not eating like he should, not doing his mouth rinses, or his lung exercises.  So I force him to when I'm here, and he stays fairly pissed off at me.  Frustrating to say the least, but I know he's not himself.  He's so very tired, he just begs to be allowed to sleep.

The doc came by this morning.  Said that the numbers we are seeing are not necessarily engraftment. They are going to run some tests this afternoon to see what's going on in his blood.  It's time, maybe a bit over due.

Boone is sort of resting now.  Lots of grunting and mumbling.