I’m truly not sure what to post today. We are fighting extreme emotions, confusion, lack of a plan, and just plain fatigue.

Yesterday started out great, with a plan in place to discharge Brent today, remaining on the IV antibiotics and to continue to wait out the original six weeks and then re evaluate the options of TAVR or open heart to replace the valve. Cool.

Dr Caine asked another cardiologist to review the echo, who is a specialist in that area. He came in and said that the valve is definitely failing and needs replacement. He does not recommend the TAVR procedure. He said that the valve is still showing signs of the staph epi. A clean culture just means he is on antibiotics and not necessarily that the valve is clean. He recommended surgery earlier than later. Not emergent though. He was still of the opinion that Brent could go home today unless Dr Caine decided to do surgery Monday, then it would be stupid to go home. The ultimate decision maker would be Dr Caine.

But wait, let’s throw another wrench in the plan. Brent started running a fever last night. We are fairly certain it is another line infection because of the timing of when they started his TPN and when the fever started. His blood pressure was also high. So, disconnected the TPN. Fevers never got worse but never went away either. Still running a fever today. Blood pressure is back down though. Took six people to finally get a peripheral IV in. 🙄.

Dr this morning said they would pull the PICC. She contacted Infectious Disease to see if they should put another in. You can’t run TPN through a peripheral IV. ID said to not take the PICC out yet because the fever could also be a side effect of the daptomycin (antibiotic.) soooooo, who knows what’s going on. They’ve done blood work and are doing some IV fluids.

I stayed last night. I wasn’t supposed to but I didn’t ask. The nurse didn’t even notice till about 3:00 this morning.

Regardless of what the new plan is, today is my last day at the hospital. My stomach is in knots thinking about leaving him here alone. This just doesn’t make any sense to me. Who will advocate for all of these patients now that their families won’t be allowed to be with them? Who will give the medical people information they need to know when a patient is intubated and can’t talk? The nurses are so overworked they can’t do it. Brent is nowhere near a normal patient. I can’t even think about it. But I do. It’s killing me. And I know it’s not about me, it’s about him, but he and I are we. Over the past 35 years I’ve never not been able to be with him during a crisis. Just the thought of him going through open heart surgery and me being either in the parking lot or somewhere else is very emotionally disconcerting.

What to pray for? I have no clue. Guess we’ll see what the rest of today brings.