Yesterday was what I'd call an okay kind of day. His bilirubin level was up once again by another 2 to 10.2, which isn't a good thing. However, the two enzymes that are indicative of liver damage were down a little, which is positive. His WBC count was up a little more at 1.2, which should prayerfully mean that the sores from the mucositis --which by appearances seems to be much better-- should rapidly begin healing themselves. His weight, depending on who you ask --and don't get me started on weighing on a zeroed bed, ugh-- was either up a little or stable. His oxygen sats weren't great, but no one was super alarmed. He began the day on a high-flow nasal cannula set to 8 litres. That should have given him plenty of O2 and inflated his lungs, but he's a mouth breather lately, so all of the good pressurized air would go into his nose --if he inhaled at all, that is-- and right out of his mouth. So mid-day, a respiratory therapist brought in a mask for him to try. He hated it and screamed when she tried to put in on, so we let it sit for a while. An hour or so later, he was watching TV and I got his attention and asked if he wanted to feel better. He shook his head aggressively, and I asked if he'd wear the mask for a little while. Always needing to be in control :) he gasped okay but just for two hours. (Where he came up with two hours I have no idea.) After I held it up to his nose for a few minutes, he seemed to really relax and I asked if he'd wear it and he agreed, so I put it on. With the nasal cannula in place as well as the mask, he satted 99 to 100 for the first time in a week. But the resp therapist came in and took off the cannula, which brought him back down to the mid-90s and made him work a little harder. Part of me wishes we could've left both devices in place, but I'm sure they know what they're doing. So those are the official Saturday stats.
The emotional 'stats' are a little different. It's crushing to see my sunshine suffering as he is. It rips absolute canyons in my already-crushed heart. He struggles to talk, he struggles to breathe, his body is so broken. He's out of it most of the time, a combination of the morphine, the lack of oxygen and everything his body is attempting to overcome. I call, as I do every time I post, for his prayer warriors to rise up anew and take up armor in his defense. When I really reflect on it, pray on it, meditate on it, I believe that God wants to heal. I also believe that there's an intense battle going on.
Anyway, that's the update for now. I'll be heading to CHO in the next hour or so. Since he's still in the PICU, I can't update from there, so I'll try to do so once I get home again this evening. Blessings to you and yours from a rain-moistened Bay Area.