Written September 16, 2010 8:48 pm

Anita slept through the night.  She was quite alert and in good spirits throughout the day.  She had a short bout of Occupational Therapy (OT) in the morning.  She was then sat up in an armchair for a couple of hours, and had some breathing tests performed, which showed some relative improvements in her breathing ability.  Speech therapy adjusted the tracheostomy tube bulb temporarily in the early afternoon to check Anita's vocal chords/ability to speak, which again proved positive.  Decisions on ventilator weaning program/rehabilitation will be reached in the next few days, specifically facility/location.  In the afternoon a bronchoscopy was performed through the tracheostomy to verify that there was not a collapse in her trachea, which could have been a cause for the low oxygen levels experienced the previous night during the MRI test.  The trachea was found to be normal.  some sputum samples were taken from her lungs to be checked for infection, and to ensure that the appropriate antibiotics are being utilized to combat a bout of pneumonia, which was discovered after the MRI incident.  The bronchoscopy procedure took less than a half hour, and Anita was in good spirits after the sedation wore off.  She visited with family members and friends in the late afternoon and received "range of motion" exercises in the evening prior to retiring for the night.

Pneumonia. Damn.  That news scares me.  Being on a ventilator and contracting a respiratory illness is bad news.  My nurse rallies round and orders a special breathing treatment.  I am rolled side to side to allow the staff to don a plastic vest on me.  It is velcroed snuggly around my torso.    When turned on, it vibrates against my ribs with the goal of breaking up mucous in my chest.  I still don't have muscles to cough, so I am suctioned after the treatment to clean out my lungs.  Gross. I hate depending on people to clear out my bodily fluids.  That is a perk of being in ICU.  It seems there are many folks to help with this and they do it with a smile. Thank God for them.   I'm scared about pneumonia.  This is a good sign though.   It means I do want to live. 

I have a voice now.  Although it's only temporary, I now have a say in my treatment.  The bulb is adjusted occasionally, permitting  me to speak.  I don't know why it can't be permanently modified to grant communication.  It must have to do with fatigue.  Seems I always have more to say than time allows.  It saddens me when the bulb is closed back so that I can't speak.  Lip reading is so frustrating.  Reading lips is like speaking a foreign language.  I understand, but those I am speaking to do not.  It's worse than charades.  A guessing game and an inadequate way to communicate.

Imagine being allowed to talk only once a day for 10 minutes.  What do you say?  I lie here thinking of all I want to say, and the questions I want to ask.  As soon as the bulb is adjusted, it seems I forget all that I planned to vocalize.  Instead I ask about the kids, my dog, my family.  I advise John to take care of himself. And of course I ask for a Coke.  I'm thirsty.  I want a Coke with chewy ice that I can sip through a straw.  I want to be able to talk all the time.  I count my blessings that I have a voice. I am heard.  Now....for just a little while.