Figurative Heart Failure

Not a whole lot changed today with Ford's condition. He remains pretty dopey, hardly opened his eyes more than a crack today, and wasn't really coherent when he did. He was, however, getting a lot more feisty with his grabbing at the breathing tube and his kicking. Problem is that at the moment he is only able to move his left arm and leg, his right side (which was the side that was seizing, the bleeding being primarily on the left side of his brain) is seemingly paralyzed. While this is likely not going to be permanent, and it is still far to early on in his recovery to predict any outcomes in terms of his potential "loss of function," it is so uncomfortable to watch him wiggle only half his body.

Neurology has so far been strangely absent from his bedside, despite ICU's constant referral (deferral?) to their authority on the matter of fully assessing Ford's situation. Two of them came by today, poked at his right arm and leg, asked about whether or not he had moved them post-stroke, and then left without offering us anything.

A repeat ultrasound of his head showed that so far the bleeding hasn't spread, and might even look a little better, and that otherwise things are the same.

He is being kept on a long-term anti-seizure medication, phenobarbitol, along with infusions of midazolam and morphine, hopefully short-term.

They are weaning the ventilator with the plan of extubating him early tomorrow.

Ford's primary pediatrician, the one who was following him post-discharge, came by today to offer her condolences and get brought up to speed on his condition. She suggested that we take any predictions on his long-term function with a large dose of skepticism, offering that kids who suffer brain injuries often show remarkable resilience to the insult, sometimes making full recoveries when the initial prognosis is grim. There are small signs that things might not end up being as bad as they look to us right now, but like I said, it's still far to early to know anything much at all. And while things certainly aren't peachy, she did also say that she would rather this have happened to him than an episode of heart failure. Her experience suggests that this will be easier for him to get over than any more trouble with his heart. So we take small measures of reassurance and try our best to ignore the depressing stares that everyone is throwing our way.

Yesterday I suffered my own episode of (figurative) heart failure when one of the clinical nursing specialists' eyes filled with tears as she asked if we would mind if she started praying for Ford. No, of course not... but do you have any idea how scary it is to infer from a medical professional that it's become a time for prayer? Having no faith in any benevolent divinity myself, it amounts to throwing in the towel. I'm pretty reliant on the available technologies and Ford's dynamic biology to pull him through this. I do not want to hear about doctors and nurses abandoning their practice for prayer until we're all clear that he's on death's doorstep.

Amen.