Warm Words in Cold Winter

Winter in Ohio. A new year full of new plans. 

As most of you know, Dad's health through previous several seasons (spring, summer, fall) has included its fair share of challenges, but overall, he'd been improving.  He has been able to participate in daily life connections and activities like going out to dinner, book club, carving beautiful birdies and, yes -  the ongoing array of doctor appointments. He hasn't been playing 18 holes or making extensive travel plans, but following last winter's intense bout with pseudomonas pneumonia, broken vertebrae, and heart issues... capacity to enjoy the day-to-day pleasures of life has been appreciated. 

There was an especially reassuring upswing through the fall months in South Carolina, when Dad's cough all but disappeared and the doctors offered hopeful reports at check-ins for the chronic Churg-Strauss. Throughout the holiday season, however, his coughing increased, hours of restful sleep decreased and he was unable to attend several celebrations of the season because he just couldn't. Since the new year, the cough grew worse and worse. Last week, he lost his appetite, couldn't sleep at night for coughing - but he DID NOT want to go to the ER! (Which, sadly, is the only recourse - even his lung doctor told Mom that if he didn't improve, the only thing to do is take him to the ER). 

Finally, last Friday, January 17, when his Oxygen level read 89, Mom, Scott and I determined that Dick O'Neal, born on Nov 24, 1941, was ER-bound. Next decision? How to get there? Take him ourselves and wait in ER waiting room? Or - call ambulance? Both options stink, but because we now know the ins-and-outs of the wacky system + we wanted him receiving O2 pronto, we called 911.  A crew of paramedics in multiple vehicles showed up, got him on gurney and covered his head in a towel to keep warm on the ride  from front door to ambulance door. 

They began tests and history-seeking right away. He was admitted and the quest to once again assess this decline officially began. With charts and specimens, monitor blips and ever-changing protocol, nurses, PCA's, doctors and teams, it was ultimately determined that he's once again suffering from the nasty pseudomonas strain of pneumonia. We await longer-culture results of yesterday's bronchoscopy, but the immediate test reveals nothing beyond what was already being treated, which is good news (yay, good news!) 

Better news is that, in the midst of winter advisories that kept everyone in their respective home-spaces yesterday,  he had a restful day and night and reports feeling much improved this morning. Did you hear our unified Sigh of Relief?  (Yes.... that's what that was!) Hopefully, the antibiotic they have chosen (after much frustrating medical deliberation) will continue to knock out this highly-treatment-resistant infection and give Dad's poor lungs some rest. 

We so appreciate the love and support of friends and family, near and far. The prayers, the care, the good thoughts and encouragement mean more than we can say. Please keep Dad and Mom both in your positive energy thought-spaces as there is much healing yet to come. We all know healing takes time -- and while Dad is steadfast and clearly willing to do what it takes,  Dad is not especially patient. And we know caring for healing patients requires lots of energy, which Mom clearly has (yesterday she shoveled her own drive!), still Mom is weary. (I'm sure neither of them will like these adjectives, but, hey - I'm writing the blog, so there).  And I clarify this to make specific requests for prayers and good wishes -- please send patience and energy to my parents and I will, too. 

The image + quote at the top of this post inspired me and I thought I would invite those who read this to leave a kind word in the comments. You're welcome to leave more than one, but know that a single word will offer the warmth of knowing you were here and you care. 

Breath by Breath, 
Robin