13. Delirium

July 22 - Friday


Last night's visit was both exhilarating and exhausting. Scott wanted me to pull his mask off and kept asking me about his clothes ("I'm not going to go home naked, am I?"). Then he wanted car keys, so he could drive us home. He was worried about the babies in CDC. "How are we going to pay for CDC?" and "I need to go pick them up!" and "Take off the mask, just do it, take it off, please!" AND "How come you say you love me, and you don't do what I ask. No love from you!"

I would switch his attention to massaging his legs, they seem to be sore and he keeps on wiggling them. I massage, he drifts into sleep, I sit down to read Harry Potter, he starts moving his legs again, asking for more massage. So on it went like this all night through. I stayed late till 9 pm. I finally had to leave to catch my bus. It was super-hard to leave him alone in his partially delirium state. But I did, after a good night kiss and after I found a TV channel with soothing music.

This morning the nurse said he was panicking last night. He tried to pull off the mask and iv's off of him and was getting seriously angry. He is mad at me right now. But I don't know what else to do to make him feel better. I combed his hair, clipped his fingernails and toenails, massaged his legs and shoulders, read to him. Nothing seems to sheer him up. He wants the mask off. He strains to pull it off. He begs to help him. I take it off his face (with the nurse next to me), and his blood O2 immediately falls to 90. The nurse hurries to put it back on him, saying that he needs to relax and breath. Scott is agitated but submits to her will. Later, he tries to pull it off again. I try to convince him that it's vital for him to breath with this oxygen mask.

So, it's a different kind of battle now. His mind is not quite cooperative in the process of his body healing. There is a great deal of confusion, agitation, irritation, frustration now, and not even a glimpse of a smile. Even though I know it's normal, I am still yearning for a tiny smile, maybe as a sign of a little recognition for my efforts to bring him back. But of course, I should not think such a thing. I should be patient and loving and charitable. Like in 1 Corinthians 13:


 "Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
  Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;"


That pretty much keeps me going.


July 23 - Saturday


Scottie is calmer today. His blood Oxygen is around 97, amount of breaths per minute - 36. We want his oxygen to be 100, and  number of breaths peers minute - 20. The doctor talked to him earlier and now he seems more comfortable with where he is at. He is taking the news about his health better and not freaking out any more. He even dares to joke about how rich I'd be if he had died. Crazy man! I felt tempted to slap him, but only managed so much as to stroke his face and kiss him on his forehead. No way am I trading you for money, dude! I need you to help me raise the kids and still take me on that cruise we've missed. And how about that last Harry Potter movie you still need to watch with us?! It came out while you were sleeping. Kids and I are faithfully waiting for your return to take us all on a grand family date to Munich English movie theater. So, it's only fair that you come back to us!

Oh, one funny episode this morning. The BBC news on TV were talking about a terrorist attack in Norway. I am like:

"Can you believe it? They got as far as Norway, those stinking terrorists!!"

Scott goes: "Oh, no, no, I did it! Police is after me!"

Soon we had some maintenance guys coming into the ICU area minding their business. Scott carefully picking out of the breathing machine that's blocking the way, his eyes getting big and he mumbles:

"I told you, they came for me, I'm going to jail!"

I calm him down and massage his shoulders reassuring him that "nobody wants to put you in jail, you did not do anything wrong, you are a hero here, everybody loves you, nobody in the hospital is going to let anyone hurt you, you are safe here..."

But I guess, he did blow up something in his coma dreams. I read that those are so vivid that they hunt people later in life, persuading them to believe that they were real life experiences.