Written August 23, 2010  9:00pm

Another good nights sleep.  Sedation medications were changed this morning from propofol to precedex to increase her alertness while managing the discomfort associated with the ventilator tube.  As the day progressed, the precedex dosage was decreased to zero, as was the insulin drip (administered to deal with the high sugars associated with steroid treatment).  Anita was quite alert during the middle part of the day and received family visitors.  A short round of OT was performed during the afternoon.  She was particularly focused on getting a coke, but the medical personnel were not so accommodating despite repeated requests!!!  Further efforts were made in the process of weaning her off the ventilator, but she became tired and the process was discontinued until tomorrow whereupon it will be resumed.  At days end, Anita was off all medications except for an IV saline drip, and was sleeping comfortably.

I want a Coke!  I want a cold one in a plastic cup with lots of chewy ice and a straw. I can feel its sweet coldness soothing my throat and waking up my senses.  Crunching the ice, quenching my thirst! I remember asking several people for a Coke. I was able to mouth the word and be understood.  This is a milestone.  Communication. Being heard.  Now if someone would only get me a Coke.  It became my new obsession.  When I wasn't praying or visualizing walking, skipping, and running, I was perseverating on the attributes of this icy drink.  Maybe a Coke was the cure I needed. At least the thought of one distracted me from this medical mystery. Now....for just a little while.

I began to slowly awaken to the reality of this situation.  I'm not sure what has happened.  There is no window to look out and no insights to look into.  I remember thinking it must be serious, my mom is here.  She seems calm and looks well, so it must not be too bad.  How long have I been here?  Is it now or later...past or present?  What tense?  Why can't I hold onto a thought?  I need a Coke. 
I want to be well.  I want to go home.  I'm sure I will go home soon.

The dream monster came again.  John and I were at a Carnival.  We went into a tent.  There was a fire burning brightly in the middle of this canvas canopy.  It had a Medieval feel and we were dressed in stiff muslin clothes.  We were told we had to swallow glass swords that were heated and shaped over the fire.  Mine was a swirl of orange and clear glass.  It was very sore going down my throat, but I did as I was told.  When I tried to pull it out, it broke off in my hand.  There was no glass in my hand, but a piece was stuck in my throat.  Maybe a little Coke could wash it down.