![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolariA speculativish timeline of what's happened with Emily, as best as I could piece it together from everythign I've gathered over the last two days. Emily can correct it when she comes home:
WED 2/17: Emily visits her doctor who finds nothing wrong with her surgery area.
THU 2/18: Emily discovers a growing welt in her surgery area, and a growing pain that gets so bad, she goes to the Emergency Room.
FRI 2/19: She is diagnosed with an infection, and scheduled for three days of IV antibiotics at the hospital. She's sent home at 4AM, to come back for another dose Saturday. During the day, the infection gets much worse. Emily packs up and leaves for the hospital, insisting they check her in.
SAT 2/20: Doctor's check out the growing infection, take swabs and tests and schedule her for a CT scan of the area, to determine how bad the infection has become. She's then put into isolation as they believe she may have a "superbug" infection. By 4AM, the infection has become so bad that they decide to forgo the CT scan and perform an emergency operation to drain what's become an abcess. She's moved into Intensive Care and put on a morphine drip for pain.
Sometime between SAT-SUN her test panels come back, and the infection is not any kind of superbug, and she's taken out of isolation, but stays in ICU. The IV antibiotics regiment is changed from a once a day session over three days, to five a day over ten days. She's put on Metronidazole and Cefazolin (meaning this is probably a Staph infection). She begins dialating again.
MON 2/22: She's back on solid foods (from what I gather, she's actually not eaten since Thursday, and was on IV from until today), and begins walking around. She's moved off morphine, to Tylenol 3 for the pain, and the gauze packing is taken out.
TUE 2/23: Gauze packing is finally removed from the abcess.
WED 2/24: The swelling is mostly down, and the abcess, while still draining, is healing up. While still painful, it is managable, and she's dropped to Tylenol 2. She's in good spirits.
THU 2/25: Dr. Brassard hears from another patient that Emily is ill and asks her to contact him (which she does).
MON 3/1: If all goes well, knock on wood, she will be sent home.
The last month has had some of the hardest moments of our lives. And the last two days have made up for it, at least for me. It's hurt not being able to do anything for her, or make sure she was safe, or take her where she needed to be. I broke down daily. Sometimes hourly, knowing she was hurting, in pain, scared, and I couldn't do a damned thing about it.
I took a chance. I actually didn't expect to make it to Vancouver on a pickup with a blown head gasket, ready to fall apart at a moment's notice. But that truck didn't fail me, she got me there, where I could make a difference. She knew it was an errand of mercy, and gave me everything she had.
Eleven hours over two days, holding Emily's hand, helping her dress, sharing dinner with her at her hospital bed, laughing and joking as IVs dripped into her, being there as dressings were changed. It wasn't much of a difference, but I had to do something - ANYTHING. I had to know, I had to see, I had to help.
I think I will finally sleep well tonight. I may be crying again right now - but it's finally GOOD a cry. Emily's getting better. I saw her getting better with my own eyes. And that, to me, has made all the difference.
WED 2/17: Emily visits her doctor who finds nothing wrong with her surgery area.
THU 2/18: Emily discovers a growing welt in her surgery area, and a growing pain that gets so bad, she goes to the Emergency Room.
FRI 2/19: She is diagnosed with an infection, and scheduled for three days of IV antibiotics at the hospital. She's sent home at 4AM, to come back for another dose Saturday. During the day, the infection gets much worse. Emily packs up and leaves for the hospital, insisting they check her in.
SAT 2/20: Doctor's check out the growing infection, take swabs and tests and schedule her for a CT scan of the area, to determine how bad the infection has become. She's then put into isolation as they believe she may have a "superbug" infection. By 4AM, the infection has become so bad that they decide to forgo the CT scan and perform an emergency operation to drain what's become an abcess. She's moved into Intensive Care and put on a morphine drip for pain.
Sometime between SAT-SUN her test panels come back, and the infection is not any kind of superbug, and she's taken out of isolation, but stays in ICU. The IV antibiotics regiment is changed from a once a day session over three days, to five a day over ten days. She's put on Metronidazole and Cefazolin (meaning this is probably a Staph infection). She begins dialating again.
MON 2/22: She's back on solid foods (from what I gather, she's actually not eaten since Thursday, and was on IV from until today), and begins walking around. She's moved off morphine, to Tylenol 3 for the pain, and the gauze packing is taken out.
TUE 2/23: Gauze packing is finally removed from the abcess.
WED 2/24: The swelling is mostly down, and the abcess, while still draining, is healing up. While still painful, it is managable, and she's dropped to Tylenol 2. She's in good spirits.
THU 2/25: Dr. Brassard hears from another patient that Emily is ill and asks her to contact him (which she does).
MON 3/1: If all goes well, knock on wood, she will be sent home.
The last month has had some of the hardest moments of our lives. And the last two days have made up for it, at least for me. It's hurt not being able to do anything for her, or make sure she was safe, or take her where she needed to be. I broke down daily. Sometimes hourly, knowing she was hurting, in pain, scared, and I couldn't do a damned thing about it.
I took a chance. I actually didn't expect to make it to Vancouver on a pickup with a blown head gasket, ready to fall apart at a moment's notice. But that truck didn't fail me, she got me there, where I could make a difference. She knew it was an errand of mercy, and gave me everything she had.
Eleven hours over two days, holding Emily's hand, helping her dress, sharing dinner with her at her hospital bed, laughing and joking as IVs dripped into her, being there as dressings were changed. It wasn't much of a difference, but I had to do something - ANYTHING. I had to know, I had to see, I had to help.
I think I will finally sleep well tonight. I may be crying again right now - but it's finally GOOD a cry. Emily's getting better. I saw her getting better with my own eyes. And that, to me, has made all the difference.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 08:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 10:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 03:32 pm (UTC)I love just knowing that this exists in the world. Gives me hope.
no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 04:33 pm (UTC)I'm glad to hear that she's doing better. And that you got to see her!
no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 05:16 pm (UTC)I'd bet that at least one tear was shed out of joy, relief and the knowledge that she is loved. Probably a few from you as well...
no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 04:36 am (UTC)The industrial strength antibiotics helped, too. :)