Back to Leeds
The next day we headed back to Jimmy's in Leeds with a suitcase full of clothes. We knew we had a hotel booked that night as Anna had already planned that. As I was going to be at work she had booked a single room but it was a simple matter to change that. We would worry about the rest of the time when we needed to find somewhere to sleep.
That morning Joe's breathing had deteriorated again and he had been put on a CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) mask to try to get him oxygenated. When we got there he was finding it difficult to talk and was writing things down so that he could communicate. A lot of the family had turned up and we were all very worried.
We all took it in turns to sit with Joe and try to reassure him but as the day went on his breathing got worse and worse. The pressure behind the mask and the constant flow of oxygen causes a very dry mouth and Joe was desperate for a drink but the nurses were starting to suggest he may need intubating and putting on a ventilator so wouldn't let him drink. He was getting very distressed at this and it was getting more and more difficult to reassure him. At this point everyone was bewildered as to what was happening.
He was becoming so unwell that later that afternoon the decision was taken to move him into ICU, where he could be monitored more closely, and if he did need to be ventilated they argued, they could do it immediately. So on the afternoon of the 14th February, 3 days after what had seemed a perfectly straightforward transplant, he was moved into the ICU.
Looking back, even then, although we were worried we still were not thinking the worst. In fact, Joe had asked Anna if he was going to die and she jumped to reassure him, telling him, 'of course not, it's a complication and they will soon sort it'. We really did believe that.
We had to leave him while they transferred him and we went down to Costa Coffee, on the bottom floor of the hospital and sat around with everyone just waiting to go back up and see him.
When we eventually were allowed back up he seemed a little calmer and his breathing seemed a little easier. What we didn't know then was that this was going to be the pattern in the next dreadful 4 weeks.
It was hard to leave him that night. Especially as we were told that we could not come back until 2pm the next day. Though the ICU nurse had told Joe that we would be allowed in earlier if he got too distressed. We left to find the hotel, checked in, went up to our room, sat on the floor and wept. All the worry and emotions that we had held on to so tightly so as not to worry Joe spilled out and the tears flowed until it seemed as if they would never stop. Exhausted we eventually slept.
That morning Joe's breathing had deteriorated again and he had been put on a CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) mask to try to get him oxygenated. When we got there he was finding it difficult to talk and was writing things down so that he could communicate. A lot of the family had turned up and we were all very worried.
We all took it in turns to sit with Joe and try to reassure him but as the day went on his breathing got worse and worse. The pressure behind the mask and the constant flow of oxygen causes a very dry mouth and Joe was desperate for a drink but the nurses were starting to suggest he may need intubating and putting on a ventilator so wouldn't let him drink. He was getting very distressed at this and it was getting more and more difficult to reassure him. At this point everyone was bewildered as to what was happening.
He was becoming so unwell that later that afternoon the decision was taken to move him into ICU, where he could be monitored more closely, and if he did need to be ventilated they argued, they could do it immediately. So on the afternoon of the 14th February, 3 days after what had seemed a perfectly straightforward transplant, he was moved into the ICU.
Looking back, even then, although we were worried we still were not thinking the worst. In fact, Joe had asked Anna if he was going to die and she jumped to reassure him, telling him, 'of course not, it's a complication and they will soon sort it'. We really did believe that.
We had to leave him while they transferred him and we went down to Costa Coffee, on the bottom floor of the hospital and sat around with everyone just waiting to go back up and see him.
When we eventually were allowed back up he seemed a little calmer and his breathing seemed a little easier. What we didn't know then was that this was going to be the pattern in the next dreadful 4 weeks.
It was hard to leave him that night. Especially as we were told that we could not come back until 2pm the next day. Though the ICU nurse had told Joe that we would be allowed in earlier if he got too distressed. We left to find the hotel, checked in, went up to our room, sat on the floor and wept. All the worry and emotions that we had held on to so tightly so as not to worry Joe spilled out and the tears flowed until it seemed as if they would never stop. Exhausted we eventually slept.
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