Good news from the broncoscopy!

Carter and I just got to watch the broncoscopy and Dr. Raman said things look ok. They were looking to see if the sutures were leaking air into his chest cavity, but they looked good which is great news - no new surgery. They think it's air that's being generated in his bad lung from the bpap oxygen he's had to have and that loose air floating around is putting pressure on his lungs and not allowing him to breath fully.

There's also a lot of gunk in his new lung that he doesn't have the reflex to cough up yet because those nerves aren't connected. They'll continue his respiratory vest treatments that basically shake his lungs and then keep encouraging him to cough. Having the chest tube back in has helped release a lot of the air, but it also is a pain for him to have it in since it's uncomfortable and makes it harder to breathe deeply. He's going down for a CT scan in a few minutes which will let them see if any air pockets remain.

All I know is that he's in great hands up here and that they're doing everything possible to give this new lung a fighting chance. He'll obviously be here for a few more days, so we'll keep everyone posted.

Not so fast ...

This morning when Carter and I were here visiting Dad he was doing great - he only had his nasal canula set at 1litre, he had eaten a decent breakfast, chest tube and catheter were finally out, etc. but we were a little shocked when the doctor said be might be going home tomorrow - we had no idea it could be that soon, which had us worried about all of the logistics that go along with taking care of him at home.

I stopped by tonight around 6pm thinking I'd be here maybe 20 minutes and when I walked in, Dad had just called the nurse because he had been starting to struggle with his breathing, getting cold and clammy, heart rate rising. Within about 10 minutes the doctors had determined that his new lung had collapsed and had me leave the room do they could re-insert the chest tube and do a broncoscopy to see what's going on. Please pray for him .... again!

Bye Bye ICU!

Dad was transferred out of the ICU yesterday and moved up to the Specialty Transplant unit on the 5th floor. He's having his last chest tube removed today and just completed his longest walk down the hallway - about 200 feet!

Woohoo!!!!

Dad's tube came out early this morning and he's doing fine. He's anxious to eat and is currently having a swallow test done to see if he can eat solid foods. Dr. Cahill was here and said his chest sounds good and that seeing him look so good has made her day.

Hopefully he'll be transferred out of the ICU soon and back up to the 5th floor. We're all so grateful for the prayers and encouragement from all of you over these past few days where things were pretty scarry. Your love and concern have carried all of us.

As we I look at my dad, smiling and hopeful, I can't help but get choked up at the gratitude I feel for the donor for the precious gift she has given our family. Life is good!

Almost there!

Wasn't quite ready for tube to come out this morning - so close! The good news is his last chest tube will probably come out today which will help him take deeper breaths and exhale deeper. They're planning to have him walk twice today which will really help him do better on his spontaneous breathing tests which are how they determine whether or not he can handle breathing on his own without the tube. He looks good and has definitely got his fight back :). He's now been in the ICU for the majority of the past two weeks and unable to talk or eat or drink normal food for most of it as well. We're all so ready to be out of here, but we trust the doctors and know that they're taking extra precautions to avoid having to reintubate him again. His infection is being treated with heavy antibiotics and we're hopeful that they're doing their job.

Happy Tears

Yesterday after dad's broncoscopy, Dr. Cahill and the other doctors walked out of the room to the nurses station and were discussing dad's situation and what they had seen on his scans. I was teetering between staying in the room with Dad and also trying to overhear what they were discussing outside his room. Once I knew my Dad was okay and relaxing after the procedure I walked out of the room to ask Dr. Cahill how she thought it went and whether or not she was happy with what she saw inside dad's lung. I instantly got a pit in my stomach when she and one of the transplant coordinators looked up to answer my question and looked as if they had been crying. Dr. Cahill quickly wiped away her tears and started telling me that things looked okay with Dad, which had me wondering then why they had been crying if everything was okay?

It had me worried all day yesterday and last night, wondering if they were just being overly optimistic with my dad and didn't want to break the bad news to us yet or something? So this morning I asked one of the coordinators what the tears were for, even though I knew it probably wasn't any of my business. She said that they had just been told that one of the first heart/lung transplant patients at the U had passed away and they had just read his obituary. He lived a good 20 years post transplant and was near and dear to many on the transplant team at the U, which as you can read from his obituary, completely explains Dr. Cahill's happy tears. I know that one day, maybe 20+ years from now :), Dr. Cahill and her team will shed happy tears for my dad's passing as well, as she recalls her fond memories and admiration for my dad and the amazing man that he is.


Jeffrey LaVere Wright Obituary: View Jeffrey Wright's Obituary by Salt Lake Tribune

Time To Dig Deep

This morning Dr. Cahill and Middleton did a broncoscopy where they insert a scope down the ventilation tube to see the inside of the throat and lungs.  Dad was a bit sedated and couldn't feel it or see the screen and I was excited that they let me stay in the room and watch the procedure.  When the camera went over to the right lung, you could see that there was some black goop that looked like caviar as well as some yellow gooberish stuff.  Cahill said this was the infection that they're treating with antibiotics, but they actually seemed relieved and said it's still okay, that they might be able to remove the ventilation tube tomorrow morning.   I have so many thoughts in my head that I could write about Dr. Cahill and the amazing team she is working with, but it deserves it's own post entirely, which will come soon, I promise.  Let's just say for now that today I saw her as more than my Dad's doctor and the head of a large transplant team - I saw her as one of my Dad's dear friends who truly lives to help him and other's like him live.  She is as invested and worried and concerned as we all are, and yet she probably has a dozen other patients just like him to look after.  See?  Don't get me started ....

Bryan and Janalyn came up from St. George again tonight and will be heading back tomorrow afternoon - they're awesome.  Dad's really wearing down mentally and kept writing questions wondering if the tube will ever come out.  He's losing patience and is so exhausted, but from what we hear from other lung transplant patients, it's to be expected.

As much as I love the times that I've had to sit alone with my Dad by his bed and just hold his hand, or close my eyes and rest, I also really have loved being in his room with just one or both of my brothers.  They are the only two people on this earth who have the same relationship as I do with my Dad and they love him the same way I do.  We have so many of the same memories and stories of Dad - he's a part of each of us that is special and timeless.  There's a quote I love by Clara Ortega about siblings:

"To the outside world we all grow old.  But not to brothers and sisters.  We know each other as we always were.  We know each other's hearts.  We share private family jokes.   We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys.  We live outside the touch of time."

Bryan and I were able to sit with him in his darkened room tonight and just hold Dad's hand for awhile while he rested - no talking, just letting him rest and feel us there.  I had been feeling a little down and hopeless about things this afternoon, but that time spent with the two of them gave me just the boost I needed to stay positive and be strong for Dad in the morning.  Carter and I have had similar opportunities to spend quality time with him and Carter's strength and optimism are always a comfort.

As we were leaving for the night, Dad wrote down a question asking if we brought his music.  Bryan had some headphones for him and I had a playlist of some of his favorite MoTab music, some George Winston and Paul Cardall piano stuff and some of his favorite classical music.  I think Dad knows it will help him relax, focus and dig deep as he feels himself getting discouraged.   Even when he's discouraged, he's still fighting.  Amazing.