Kendall was put on a ventilator today. Have you ever been in a room when they have to intubate someone and put them on a ventilator? I did an internship in a hospital in grad school and was exposed to ventilators, but it is a completely different story watching someone you love going through it. He had to be sedated and paralyzed. It was heartbreaking realizing that the kids and I might never hear him speak to us again.
Kendall also ripped out the dialysis line in his neck last night (yes, sutures and all). So that was pretty traumatic. And bloody. He got a new line today, but his body has not been able to handle the regular dialysis because his blood pressure dips dangerously low during it. So more adapting as they try to figure out ways to help him. For now they have an arterial line in that will do continuous (but very slow) dialysis. That complicates what other medicines and treatments he can receive, but hopefully we will see some success with this method.
They also put in a feeding tube today. Kendall’s doctors are worried about refeeding syndrome because he has essential been in starvation mode for several weeks now, so they only give him a very little bit every hour (think half a medicine cup).
I’ve been thinking today about what I wanted to write in this Meal Train update. Frankly, it’s difficult to find the words to describe the exhaustion, and the terror, and the trauma of the last week, particularly the last 48 hours. I find it strange when people say I’m so strong, when I’m just taking things moment by moment and doing what has to be done. I think anyone would for someone they love.
Writing these updates has been interesting, because while I am updating everyone on Kendall’s condition, really it is my story and my perceptions that I am sharing. I think more people who read these know me better than Kendall. They don’t know how often HE has been the one to support and take care of ME. That he has made sure I haven’t had to fill our car or van with gas even once for the past 16 years, after being around gasoline made me so sick during my pregnancy with our oldest child. Or that he ran and emptied the dishwasher EVERY NIGHT because I once mentioned when we had toddlers how much easier that would make my mornings. Kendall mowed our lawn with a completely broken back (although we didn’t know it was broken yet) the week before his surgery so I wouldn’t try to and then hurt my neck. Kendall has been my best friend since I was 16, and I his. I adore him. We’ve been through so many things together, including the death of a parent in high school, six miscarriages, unemployment, moves, seriously ill children, and many physical and mental health issues. Kendall did all the laundry and kept the kids fed for eight months without complaint when I had horrible depression following my worst miscarriage. And on and on.
I don’t think it was an accident that Kendall would calm down for me (and no one else) even when his confusion was at its worst. Even when he was sedated today he recognized and responded to my hand holding his (and not the nurse on his other side) and responded a little when I was the one to call his name. I wish everyone knew the man he was before he got so sick. Because he’s the real strong one. And while I know that God has a plan and that I and my family will ultimately be OK, I really can’t imagine life without Kendall in it. It’s breaking my heart.
