Absorb and normalize

Ford made it through the procedure this afternoon and even looked surprisingly stable when we got back in to see him. They were successful in opening up his right jugular and putting in the 10mm stent, but were a little concerned with some anatomical narrowing there, which is pinching or kinking the stent a bit. Otherwise it appears to be working to keep the vein patent.

Ford woke up a few hours after coming back from the cath lab, but the experience was so uncomfortable for him they quickly sedated him again. However the sedation boluses triggered a drop in his blood pressure, sats, and heart rate to the point where we were once again surrounded by an anxious group of people -all eyes fixed on his monitor. Knowing Ford's "style" helped to alleviate some of the drama, and we even felt capable of passing the time tossing awkward, dark jokes back and forth while waiting for him to recover. Sometimes we forget and end up needing to remind ourselves that these people aren't our friends, despite the prolonged periods we all spend ostensibly hanging out together.

So we ended up with a strangely calm evening that somehow seemed to exacerbate this afternoon's emotional food-processor (I'm searching to replace the clichéd "roller coaster" metaphor with something less resonant of a pleasant summer afternoon that isn't "*&@#-fest" - suggestions would be appreciated). As I've said before, it's exhausting to be repeatedly walloped with life-and-death decisions that ultimately land us back in an uncomfortable middle ground mediated with an endless titration of mechanical and pharmaceutical supports. Yes, Ford is technically "ok" for the immediate future, but his long term shot at things is getting increasingly complicated.

If we can put aside the rhetoric of his toughness and strength, we're left with the doctor's reluctant admissions. Every time Ford endures a brush with death and manages to pull through it takes a toll on him that can't be measured with candied sentiment alone. Unfortunately for him both Christa and I feel completely incapable of making a choice that ends in resignation, with us carrying another baby out of the ICU into a back room to die in our arms. And with maniacs like us at the helm he's as likely to be driven to death as he is to life.

So come along onwards with us! As we absorb and normalize his accumulating handicaps and melt at his every smile.