Bitter Cold

At 9:00 Sunday night Sherry was sleeping soundly.  Her deep rhythmic breathing was syncopated with soft snores.  The night nurse dutifully came in announcing, “Sherry, I’m going to turn your light on.  I’ve got your night time medicine:  insulin, Zantac, Keppra (a drug to prevent seizure).  The rhythms of medical necessity pounded harsh counter point.   

It’s getting hard to determine what Sherry’s natural rhythms truly are, or to know if they are being pharmaceutically consumed.  We did know that there were three hours of potential sleep before the midnight medicines:  Dexdron (8mg every 6 hours).

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.  I will pursue the installation of the hospital bed at home Monday morning.  I don’t know if it comes with linens or not (I suspect not), so that will be another thing I will want to get done.  The most important thing will be hearing the medical report from the doctor when he makes his morning rounds.  While Sherry is certainly better than she was than when she was hauled into the Emergency Room on Friday.  The disturbing thing is that some of her symptoms continue to worsen in spite of the large doses of steroids.  She can bear no weight on her left leg.  This means that she will have great difficulty getting out of bed.  More significantly the continuation of symptoms tips causality toward the theory that they are being caused by the progression of the tumors, if such a horrible thing can be referred to as progress.  

Many question marks haunt our minds.  When will Sherry be released to go home?  What will it take to ensure that she gets safe and appropriate care when she gets there?  Is there any way that we can learn about what the future holds?  

Things can change so rapidly.  The soft snow of last night has left naked ground  exposed to the freezing arctic front.  Tender roots suffer.