Thursday, November 17, 2011

4.5 months

So! Something I have put out of my mind somewhat since my transplant is my long stay in the Respiratory Care Unit or the "Vent Unit" for short. First I have to say I had great care, amazing nurses, respiratory therapists, and doctors.

To be honest there was a lot of frustration at first that had to do with the doctors understanding that I was not going to get any better or see my home again until I had a transplant. It was something they hadn't dealt with before and to add to that I wasn't the only one with CF to show up in the unit, there was two of us at once.

My days were filled with therapy and suctioning of mucous, lots and lots of mucous. I remember my first full day on the unit, I had physical therapy, occupational therapy, and the respiratory therapists (RT for short), Rt's not only did my CPT, but were there to get me to walk on the portable vent, but also to get me to breathe on my own, which after my first out on the walk vent I was ready to try breathing on my own off the vent. It was hard but the first months I was able to shower and spend a good eight hours off the vent, leave the unit for walks and wheel chair rides to the chapel.

But then the infection set in that changed everything around September, the doctors were not taking my word that an infection was running rampant in my body, the white count wasn't up and my temp wasn't high enough. But my oxygen would dropped to 74 while showering barely making it out in my robe. It was scary, basically from then on I didn't leave the vent but for a few minutes until after my transplant.

I will never be able to explain or put into any words to describe how difficult it was to be suctioned so frequently so much junk out of the lungs, not sleep at night, and try to hang on for a surgery you hope will save your life and give you many years ahead. It was like looking to get over a wall, but not knowing what was on the other side.

I guess it's a good thing I have forgotten already some of my time on the vent, but it has started to creep back in. And though I finally scaled that wall to a world with new lungs I still don't know what's on this side of the wall. Not that I want suctioning back or a vent back, I just want to understand my new life better. Hope is hard to come by sometimes these days. I have had so many prayers and well wishes that I can't even begin to thank each person individually but I wish I could. I just hope I can get a few years out of these lungs, I hope soon they will settle in and I will feel some comfort in my body that doesn't feel my own. I guess I hoped it would be a little easier, but trying to gain weight while doing all this isn't easy.

I know I hurdled the wall but I still feel blind to what's ahead. Maybe soon I will see a break, I can only wish and dream just like I did when I was on the vent for a healthy future.


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