After the conference call where the Docs explained the options to them, they decided that they wanted to do intebation and insert the breathing tube, as well as giving him a course of IV antibiotics and fluids. They wanted to do everything possible to save his life. I generally agreed with this, except I had qualms about the breathing tube, which were later resolved when I saw how much it helped reduce the stress on him.
After the decisions were made, the team went in to action. Upon leaving the conference call, I found a resperatory therapist and a nurse standing over him. They were saying that this was the wrong course of action. I knew he could hear them, even if they treated him like a vegetable. There was a general air of angst in the room. I came in and stopped everything. I told them that this was not their decision, and it was wrong for them to talk that way, especially in front of him. They were free to have their opinions, but not at his expense. We were doing this for a reason, and we all needed to be aware that he was still alive. I was, to say the least, angry. I asked the resperatory therapist why she believed it was the wrong thing. She said she had read his file. I said I knew him all my life, and that took precedence over any file she had. I said I was going to stay with him for as long as he was here, and that I would appreciate her cooperation in this difficult time. After my rant, she immediately backed down. They inserted the tube, and she went off and got me a really comfy lazy-boy type chair, and some blankets and pillows.
The head of ICU showed up and said he totally disagreed with what we were doing. He seemed like a really negative, tired, grumpy little man, who shouldn't be working with Veterans. Once again, I told him that it wasn't his choice, nor mine really. But this was the course we were going to take, and we would pursue it with all optimism and due dilligence. I also told him that I did not in any way want Gary to be in any pain at all. He's had enough of that. Dr. Wheeler said they had authorized any pain medication necessary. The respratory therapist came back in and with the nurse there, said the tube didn't matter that much because, looking at his stats on the computer, he would "pronounce" himself soon anyway.
So this is how it was. Me, Gary and the ICU nurse sitting, watching monitors and trying to determine if he was in any pain. For the first few hours, he seemed comforable as could be possible. The nurse (I think her name was Irma, but I'm not sure) was exceptionally nice and said he must be a good man if he had someone who cared so much. We talked for a while about him and about home. At 7AM, the changing of the guard occured, and we drew a male ICU nurse, who didn't speak to me for hours. He didn't even introduce himself. I don't think he agreed with the breathing tube either. I noticed that at some point someone had changed his wrist band to read "DNR." That wasn't there before and bothered me, but I didn't say anything.
Finally, I the nurse decided he'd talk to me. We discussed the breathing tube, and I explained to him why we decided to do it. He said "so this must be one of those Texas matriarchy things that I've heard about." I told him it was, and if he knew what was good for him, he'd take care of Gary with all due respect and responsibility, or he'd have a bunch of powerful Texas women to answer to.
At around 9AM, Dr. Molly -- the head of ICU, by my understanding -- came by with a clutch of students. She wanted to talk, wisely outside of the room, about the DNR order. I told her about the bracelet that miraculaously changed, and that I wasn't sure it was a good thing. The family had not yet made our wishes known on this topic. She was bright-eyed and understanding, obviously a good teacher and was "on stage." She wanted to call Mom and talk to her about it. I gave her the number and told her that I would call them and let them know she'd be calling around 1PM CST.
I went outside and talked to Mom -- warning her of the impending call, and that they should discuss the DNR issue. I had a crappy lunch -- Oregon chicken fried meat at the Canteen. There was a guy there selling buttons and pins. Believe it or not, I found two for the 1/9: Walking Dead. I bought them both. One for me and one for Gary. He would love it. I put mine on my jacket.
I started my period at 2PM, a week ahead of schedule. I didn't bring anything with me, for some reason, when I left the hotel. I had to go buy pads at the commissary and stash them in the car. All I had was a pen and a notepad. And my jacket didn't seem warm enough, although it had been hot all week.
I talked to Gary almost constantly while I was in the room (even letting him know that the Spurs had beat the Lakers). I knew he could hear me. At about 4PM, I decided that Mom and Me-Ma should get the opportunity to talk to him as well. I told the nurse and he quickly re-routed phones (you couldn't make long distance calls from the room), and called Mom and Me-Ma, transferring the call to his room, where I held the phone to his ear so he could hear them. After talking with them, Gary's blood pressure and heart rate went up to normal levels for about an hour. "Rallying for Mom, eh?" said the nurse. "Don't count it out," I said.
The nurse and I worked with Gary throughout the day, determining his pain level. I would ask him if he was in any pain, and he'd touch his stomach if he was. We tried several different medications, waited hours, and asked again. We finally found a drug that seemed to work, and the nurse rigged up a drip of it, so that he'd have a constant supply. After that, he didn't respond to my questions about pain. That was good.
Soon, it was time for the changing of the guard again. It must have been around 6PM. This time, we drew Robert, a male nurse from Florida who was most likely gay, by his demeanor. But he was kind. He had moved here recently to get out of the Florida "scene" and was trying to buy a house. He didn't seem to need any explanations. We watched the monitors, and he explained to me what several of them were.
9:25PM
Pulse = 54
Blood Pressure = 90/40
11:00PM
Pulse = 57
Blood Pressure = 90/30
Robert also explained that Gary was essentially breathing on his own, with the assistance of the machine. It was set to force air into his lungs 13 times per minute, but he had been breathing about 30 times per minute, which is normal. He was, however, filling with fluid, and you could almost watch his abdomen get larger. We were losing him.
At 11:15PM, Robert went to lunch, and another nurse sat in.