Friday, April 29, 2011

"The Kayla" - Monday, April 25, 2011 - "We Say Goodbye to the Nurse"

Kayla Quote:  "I did see the fox on Monday evening.  They are well.  "Foxy Lady" - looks like her paw is healing and the two little ones were scampering all around with a little mouse that Mommy caught hunting and brought back for something to play with.  So they are doing good so far.  Tell Michaela that and  give her a kiss.  Bye."  - Phone message from Alice next door.

Short Synopsis: Almost all of the nurses in the ICU are incredible.  They work 12 hour shifts and they take their jobs seriously and are proud to do them well.  Once you have the best, it is hard to settle for less.  And one certainly does not settle for a mean one.

"The Kayla" is helpless and at the mercy of any of her assigned nurses.  This nurse was competent, but she was mssing compassion.  She would do her job and then hustle out of the room and spend most of her time in the hallway...far, far away.  She was cold and not connecting in any way emotionally to Kayla.

Finally I had had enough of her and asked to speak to the charge nurse.  The charge nurse, looked fearfully over at the Physician's Assistant and said he would meet me in the room in a minute.  He came and I listed my reasons why this nurse was no good for us.  The nurse came in and I told her, "You have no compassion.  It's not working for us.  You don't listen to my daughter in any way to help her with her needs."

Kayla then got involved, scratching away madly at her clipboard, letting the doctor know that she did not ever want this nurse again.  The doctor defended, saying, "She is one of our sweetest nurses."  He asked if it would be ok to let her finish her shift for the last two hours and Kayla agreed.

Not even 20 minutes later, this nurse came in to give Kayla a dose of medicine that was crushed up in a cylinder of fluid.  It would be pushed through the nasal tube directly into Kayla's stomach.  After years of taking medicines, Kayla's sensitive stomach can be tricky.  Kayla raised her hand and begged for the nurse to put it in slowly.  This can make a big difference.

She snapped at Kayla, retorting, "There is only one speed!"  And shoved it in fast.  Right in front of me!  I was appalled!  Within minutes, Kayla needed a throw up bucket as it hurt her stomach and made her nauseous.

Sweetest nurse?  You gotta be kidding!  What the hell!
                                                -----------------------------------------------
Long Story:  Mike came home at 1 a.m. in the morning last night.  He was supposedly giving me a break to go home early Easter night so I could get some rest.  When you are home, it feels like you have a normal life.  I relaxed and put away some things and prepared my bags for the next day - the food bag, the luggage, the back pack, my lap-top.  I got into bed around midnight but then Mike rushed in to wake me.  


Groggily, I asked him, "Is something wrong with Michaela?"  I was very confused.

"No, we have a woodpecker in the shower stall!  You have to get it out!"

The poor thing must have been there for hours.  It was definitely in shock and trying to fly up on occasion.  I studied it and decided it was not injured - no puncture wounds.  Most likely Rheuy brought it in through the cat door.  This happens often.  He gingerly mouths them, trots along the lawn and enters the cat door with his live prize.  And then he kills and eats them.  Quite often, I save the bird and get it back outside.  Sometimes I save the same bird twice.

For the first six months of Rheuy's life as a stray street cat in Le Rheu, France, this was how he fed himself.  Bird meat is the most delicious meal for the gruesome Rheusome.  He doesn't waste anything - he eats the entire bird, except for the beak and the claws.

This sweet little shower stall prisoner was a male downey woodpecker.  The males have a red patch at the back of their heads and are about 6".  I feed them suet all winter long.  This one guy got lucky this time around.  He must have flown up and fallen down into the glass enclosure and he was probably there for hours.  This would be easy.

We closed off the bathroom and opened up the windows as wide as they would go,  next to the shower.  It was pitch black outside.  With a broom, I got the bird flying up and then he landed on the broom thistles.  He sat there so I lifted him to the window and he did nothing.   I put him out and he fell down to the soft ground, which was only about a foot down.  The next morning he was gone so I think he did just fine after he got over his shock.  I put out some fresh suet to help him along.               

              --------------------------------------------------------

When I arrived to the waiting room and sat in my corner chair briefly, I heard a soft weeping to my right.  There was awoman crying inconsolably.

Mordechai was very happy.  His mother is responding to him so he brought along his purple tie to celebrate.  It was hanging on the wall where there are three pegs for coats in our corner.  We now hang a few items there.

Mordechai's lilac purple tie is a great sign of Spring and life.  I sit and look at it as the woman sniffles....









Thursday, April 28, 2011

"The Kayla" - Sunday, April 24, 2011 - "Easter Sunday"

Kayla Quote: "I'm so happy to have my whole family here together seeing Kayla." - Stephanie, in the hospital as Mike, Thomas and she visit Kayla at her bedside on Easter Sunday

Short Synopsis:  Kayla continues to amaze everyone.  She is in the most horrific pain most of the time.  The EKG lady came by with the cart and Kayla begged her to come back and do it later.  Then one of the unit doctors came in and asked, "Are you refusing medical treatment?  You cannot do this."  This made me angry.  "No, she's in pain.  She's not refusing treatment.  She's in too much pain.  They just gave her some pain medication.  Why don't you wait 20-25 minutes and come back?  She can do it then."  It all turned out well.  The EKG lady was still in the unit and was able to swing back around and test Kayla.  Kayla is getting percocet and ativan to manage her pain and anxiety today.

I comb her hair, hold her hand and pet her forehead.  All of these things calm her down.  They put her in her breathing collar again and her breathing was 55 shallow puffs per minute.  The nurse came in and scolded her, "You should be breathing 10 times a minute."  And then she left in a huff.  This was false information.  I went to CNA school and remember learning that 12-20 times a minute is normal, up to 30 is still ok.  More and it's too fast and shallow.

I held Kayla's hand and told her she could do it....breathe slowly and smoothly.  We took long, slow breaths together.  In less than a minute, she cut her breathing in half. ...she was at 25.  Good job!

Long Story:  We have become good friends with Ross and Walter, who got a heart valve surgery.  Ross is from Australia and he is in public relations.  They live in the city.  I told Ross to bring us some wine for the following day a few days ago.  This was after Mordechai offered everyone a small cup from a bright blue bottle of the most God awful wine.  We all laughed at how bad it tasted, like poison.  I told Ross to bring us a better bottle of wine and he did.  We enjoyed that the other day.  Then Mordechai got a really good bottle from his cousin at the other side of the bridge.  We were looking forward to sharing some of that.  Ross enjoyed opening bottles and letting them breathe.  Mordechai has to have his wine at a certain time and we only get a small bit after his rituals are finished.  Yes, he gets about four little cups compared to our one small cup.  Who is counting cups?  We are!

We talked about how nice it is to have wine in glass wine glasses but here it is the coffee cup that is king.  We are humbled by how little we need to enjoy our wine.  We raise our cups and wish for good health for our relatives in the ICU.  We wish for one more day of life for them.

When I arrive at the hospital in the early morning, I am happy to tell Mordechai that I received the most incredible text from my husband.  He did notice the card and he responded.  Mordechai has a sly look and then he begins to laugh.  He tells me that when he visited Kayla in the unit, when I was not there, he tells her to text her father and remind him to do something.  The message was the most profound one I have ever received from Mike.  I was taken aback.

Today Mordechai and I walked across the bridge.  First, you walk up Fort Washington Ave. up to 177th Street, where there is a walker's entrance up to the bridge.  More bicyclers access this pathway than anyone else.

It is late morning and Mordechai wants to walk across and get a special memorial candle to bring back to light for his deceased relative, his father.  He invites me along.  I have no good shoes so my feet will get sore.  It is summery hot and I am overdressed, but nothing compares to what he is wearing - the long black pants, the black shoes, white long-sleeved buttoned shirt, black yamaca on his head.  It is at least 80 degrees and the air is very still.

The George Washington Bridge is venerable. It is 4,760 feet long.   It has the most vehicular traffic crossings in the whole world.  There are 106 millions crossings documented in a year, beginning in 2007.  The upper level was built and dedicated on 10/24/31, 79 years ago.  This deck was built during the depression.  The lower level was constructed 48 years ago and dedicated on 8/29/62.   Daily traffic is counted at 289,329 crossings.  It's the world's only 14 lane suspension bridge with 8 lanes in the upper deck and 6 lanes in the lower one.  According to many, it is the most beautiful bridge in the world with its cables and steel beams.  It is painted aluminum.  For me, it symbolizes a rare grace and serenity in a constantly moving city.  It looks like its spires reach up to God.  And I am in a desperate need for a God right now.

This bridge is even more important to the Trolle clan.  This is where donated hearts travel across to the hospital for implantation.  Kayla's first heart came out of a trauma center in Buffalo, N.Y.  It was harvested and flown by Leer Jet to Teterboro Airport on June 20, 1999, in an igloo cooler.  It was then put into an ambulance and driven across the beloved bridge.  At the end of the bridge is the hospital.  It's no wonder I have a love affair with this bridge.

Mordechai and I set across the bridge.  He is embarrassed as he is not supposed to be seen with a Gentile woman.  I told him, "That's ridiculous.  We are just friends."  At the same time, I am respectful of his deep feelings for the laws of his religion.  I pretend I am not with him a lot of the time.  All I think about is how wonderful the air and view are.  You can see the entire sky line of New York City.  The water is shimmering brightly.  It is hot and we have no water.  My feet are hurting me.

When we get to the New Jersey side,  Mordechai says his cousin has asked him to walk another ten minutes north.  I stop at a park and will sit on a bench to wait and rest.  The sun is getting to me and this bench is out in the heat.  I never even sit.  I continue on north on Hudson Terrace in Fort Lee and watch as Mordechai disappears in the distance.  I am once again near my childhood apartment but I don't go look.  My feet hurt too much and I am thirsty.

There is a bike shop and I am envious of the machine that dispenses frosty drinks.  I have no money with me.  I find a nice cool patch of green grass under some trees and sit to rest.  Then I head back.  I can wait no longer.  I have to get ready to go to our Easter dinner in Tarrytown.  Twenty-two family members are coming for our feast.  I have already made a large fruit salad and it's cooling in the Tarrytown refrigerator.

Earlier, I had brought two containers of my special fruit salad, one for Mortechai and one for Ross and Walter.  It's Easter and I like to share.  I tell Mortechai that his salad is made from all fresh fruits and nothing with corn syrup or from a can.  The other portion has some canned fruits.  I think he can accept it but he says he cannot eat it.  It was not prepared in the kosher way.  He does put both containers up in the kosher kitchen to store them for me and Ross, after I tell him I need refrigeration for it to keep at its best.

Mordechai shares his special single brewed coffee with others.  He has given me a cup which I decide to make hotter in the microwave oven in the waiting room.  I put it at 2 minutes, which is standard for my home microwave.  Only this one is powerful and the coffee explodes.  I am lucky as about a third of the tasty drink was saved.  There are no paper towels anywhere to clean up the oven, even as one reads the sign "clean up after yourself."  I reach into the garbage to retrieve sparsely used clumps of paper towels.  When you have no other way, you learn how to be resourceful in the strangest ways.  I wish I had clean towels or a clean sponge.

Anyway....I am walking back to start across the bridge and along comes Mordechai and his cousin in an air-conditioned car.  They pick me up and he was worried.  I was not at the park bench and he felt responsible for me.

"Oh no, " I tell him, "I had no more time.  I would have left a note for you on your chair.  I felt bad but too much time had gone by."

I tell his cousin that I am going to a big meal at my family's home in Tarrytown.  Mordechai turns around and give me a warning glance and a quick, "Shh..."

We go to a grocery store where he purchases a memorial candle and some frosty waters!  I am waiting in the car with his cousin and I am very careful about what I tell him.  Orthodox Jews are not supposed to socialize with too many people outside their religious circle.

We are back on the bridge walking across again.  We have water to drink.  I ask him why he gave me a warning glance.

"I didn't want you to tell my cousin you were going to an Easter meal."

"Oh, that I knew."

I continue to ask Mordechai all about his life, his religion.  I ask him what the strings mean, the ones that hang out of his pants pockets.  He says he thought they were tucked inside but they come out.  They are reminders of all of the commandments, 608 of them, plus there are 7 more that are the most important commandments.  I ask if he is allowed to wear shorts and t-shirt to exercise, or does he always have to wear his uniform.  He says he does wear exercise clothes.  He even wears a baseball cap sometimes.  On the bridge though, the wind threatens to blow off his yamaca all the time.  He has to hold it with his hand on his head.

We pass many small groups of families strolling the bridge.  There are groups of Jews that are dressed just like him.  They have a greeting as they pass - it is in a different language - Yiddish, most likely.

I get ready for Easter in my special clothes.  I dress in the bathroom at the hospital and wash up in the sink.  It is all I have.  I drive up to the special supper.  Every year, Debbie, Paul's wife, makes the most beautiful deserts.  This year she made an entire tray of chocolate covered strawberries.  My sister Valerie and I work with Ryan, her son, on voice overs.  He is making an animated cartoon and he needs our voices for the film.  I miss the Easter egg hunt but there are only three little ones left for this hunt.  Thomas and Russell hide the candy filled eggs in the yard.  It was not that long ago when they were the scramblers!  Now they are grown.

After our mid-day meal, Mike heads down in his car to see Kayla.  Thomas, Deirdre - my sister and I head down in my car.  Thomas has not seen Kayla for an entire month.  When he finally walks into the ICU to see Kayla, he is not greeted by her at all.  She is in too much pain.  They have just put her into the chair for her daily sitting and she is in too much pain to even notice her brother.

I felt badly that he did not get good time with her.  He sees her at her lowest point but he didn't care, he said.  He was happy to see her and he will be back!

Mordechai was pleased to meet Thomas and Deirdre.  He tells Thomas that he is a good, honest mechanic.   I told him the story of when Thomas quit his mechanic's job because his boss was commiting fraud.  The boss instructed Thomas to reach into the engine and pretend he was doing something.  The boss knew the man needed to go to Honda where they have special machines that diagnose this particular problem.  Instead of sending him on, he charged $100 and there was no fix.  At that moment, Thomas walked out.  He was quite upset in our driveway and heading back up there to retrieve his large tool chest before anyone stole his tools.  He was standing with Mike and when he told me what happened, I said to him, "I'm proud of you Thomas.  You have good morals, only one thing....now you have no job!"

Mordechai was pleased to meet the entire family.  I told them he was a special rabbi.  I said he was great to consult.

"He even saves marriages...!"

"The Kayla" - Saturday, April 23, 2011 - "Match Maker, Match Maker"

Kayla Quote:  "I was worried about you."  Mordechai told Kayla to text Mike regarding doing something about our 28th wedding anniversary today.

Short Synopsis: Kayla was gotten up and put into a chair for the first time in 23 days!  She has been prone in a bed the entire time.  It was scary, difficult and painful for her to get to that chair.  They cover it with white sheets.  A physical therapist helps her out of bed to stand up and move her over.  It's a very big process.  They put a collar around her neck with oxygen piping in to the hole in her neck.  This is all part of learning how to breathe again.  Her lungs are on their way and now her body must follow.  Her middle is full of pain where the four one inch tubes feed into her heart.

Long Story:  In the morning in Ridgefield, I swam 1/2 mile and boy did that feel good.  There is nothing like the feeling in your own lungs and breathing after you have done a lot of lap swimming.  I lament that "the Kayla" cannot have these same wonderful body feelings that I have.  I think of her every time I walk out to the parking lot after my swim.  I get into my car.  I drive to Stop & Shop and pick out a really nice anniversary card.  I buy a single red rose on sale for $2.49.  I wriite out a nice sentiment for Mike and leave it on the counter.

Mordechai tells me there are different kinds of rabis.  There are the ones that govern the entire synagogue, the ones that assist and then there is the rest of the people.  He is the kind of rabi that assists.  He has great lessons to teach anyone who will listen.

He told me that I needed to go home and sleep there and see my husband.  It is difficult to go home every day as the drive is one hour each way.  I often settle for Tarrytown. 

"You must go home and be with your husband," he chides.

When I come to the hospital after my swim, I tell Mordechai...

"Ok, I listened to you.  I woke up in Tarrytown and I drove home before I came here.  I gave my husband a card and a rose but he probably won't do anything for me."  It makes me very sad.

I brought Mordechai a piece of whole fruit, a green apple.  Kayla loves green apples and our refrigerator drawer is full of them, but right now she cannot eat any of them.  I am eating them one by one.

"Here is an apple for you. It is not cut up.  No knife has touched it.  You can eat it!" 

Mordechai inspects it as it sits on his table and he smiles.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am positive.  You can have it.  I have many in our refrigerator drawer.  No one will eat them."

"You don't want it?"

"No, it's for you.  You need fruit to be strong.  It's for your health."

"Ok, I accept it.  Thank you."

 It was evening and the waiting room had one very large family, maybe 15 of them,  in a long row of chairs, listening to one standing  man give a detailed report at the helm.  It was intense watching them.  Mordechai informs me that this person is dying - there is no chance.  I wonder how he gets the details of everyone's lives but he always does.  He circulates and integrates and everyone accepts him into their familial folds.

Today was the day that I introduce Mordechai to Kayla.  He came with me to visit her in her ICU room.  She had already heard a lot about him from many people and she was intrigued to meet him.  Ashley, Kayla's best friend, found him mesmerizing as does everyone around here.    I told Kayla he was incredibly happy and wonderful to be around.  They liked each other immediately.

As Kayla lay in her bed and I stroked her arm, I asked Mordechai how he met his wife, that I had heard they do match making and how did that work?  Mordechai was smiling big time.  He then wove the most beautiful tale I have heard in a long time.

Yes, they do matchmaking.  He said he was shy, that he had no experience with women.  He went through high school and on to Israel and then came back.  He was now 23.  At the university  there was a matchmaker, someone trained in this skill.  Naomi's parents wanted her to date.  She was 18 and ready to find her husband.  Her parent's were given a list of 6 eligible young men, but Mordechai was not on that list.  Her parents said they knew no one on this list of 6, that they knew none of these families.  Then they were given Mordechai's name, a single name.

He was given permission to call her.  Naomi was to be in her house waiting for the phone call and she would pick up and they would set up a date to go out to meet and talk.  They had a nice conversation on the phone and they set a date night.  During the date, they got along very well and liked each other.

After the date, Naomi's parents told the matchmaker, it was off!  There would be no more dates!  They were concerned because Mordechai was not raised with a father.  His mother raised her three sons all by herself and was divorced.  They felt that Mordechai would be too attached to his mother and not be able to form a good close relationship with Naomi to form a new family.

Over the next few weeks, Mordechai found every reason why Naomi was not the right one for him.  It was true sour grapes after the family rejected him.  He was angry and disappointed that her family did not think he was worthy.

Naomi continued to date from a list of young suitors.  After several weeks, she had different ideas.  She told her parents she wanted Mordechai!  She saved them!  

They then began to date again and after a short time they were married.  They now have five children, 2 boys 18 and 16; a girl 12; and two more boys almost 10 and 6.  They are both teachers in a Hebrew school.  The union was a good one.

I watched Kayla's expressions on her face.  She was fascinated and so was I.  This matchmaking was a good thing.  In our culture, it is toxic the way young people meet.  In fact, it is nearly impossible to meet good suitors.  Kayla has dated several young men and been deeply hurt by them.  Honestly, I found every one of them completely unworthy of my special daughter with the very big heart and giving spirit.  They trampled on her and were selfish.  

I suppose most mothers are as protective as I am.  We all want someone who cares and is trustworthy and good.  This is hard to find now.  I cannot understand why.  With Kayla's complicated medical problems, it is nearly impossible to find a good suitor for her.  She wants someone who cares about her, but sadly, this is a difficult task.  My husband and I harvest her beautiful love and are blessed.

Am still hopeful there is a giving young man out there for her....

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

"The Kayla" - Friday, April 22, 2011 "Finding Our Childhood Home"

Kayla Quote:  "You have to let them help you Kayla, or you won't get a transplant." - Stephanie, mother
The patients who succeed the best are the ones who work closely and well with the doctor and nursing teams.

Short Synopsis:  It's really tough to move forward when you are in constant pain.  Kayla has to be one of the bravest people I know.  She has become a really great patient, trying her best to follow all the doctor's and nurse's orders.  Each morning the teams come by and they put in orders for the day after they analyze the progress of the patient.  The look for symptoms and troubleshoot.

With Kayla, it's straightforward in some ways.  She is on a few blood thinners so there is tremendous bruising all over her body.  At first, it is alarming but this is just part of the landscape.  Huge black patches are on her arms, her chest, her legs.  Then there are areas that are healing and they are greenish-gray. 


There are tubes all over the place running criss-cross across her body.  There are leads going to monitors.  There are the medicine boxes dripping in special medicines, which are tweaked all the time.  Then the big device - the PVAD with the heat producing machine and the clicking cannulars.  She is definitely a bionic young lady.

Today a top priority was Kayla's "breathing trials."  They take her off the respirator and put a trach collar around her neck with a little oxygen piping in.  She has to breath completely on her own.  It takes effort and her rib cage sucks in with effort.  It looks tiring and is! 


"The Kayla" panics and begins to shake her hands and her lips quiver.  It's the sweetest thing I have ever seen but it is not fun for her.  It is scary to breathe on your own.  She has no gag reflex and only a tiny coughing reflex so "suctioning" is needed at times.  The nurse inserts a long tube into her throat and suctions it, pulling out flem and fluid.  Kayla's face turns red as she tries to catch her breath.  It's very disturbing to watch,  but it clears the throat pathway.

"The Kayla" also needs to have venadines -  inflatable leg holders for her legs to prevent clotting, as her legs have been just laying on the bed for nearly 3 weeks.  She does not like these things as they make her more hot.  She tends to overheat anyway.


The room is stuffy  hot and maintenance is unable to do anything about it.  The temperature is completely turned down, but the big machine that pumps for the P-VAD, generates a lot of extra heat in the room.  The windows facing the river have a Western view with heat peaking in the afternoon.

Kayla was required to be in the trach collar for a two hour period today but it was difficult for her so she refused.  This is considered a refusal of medical treatment, which is why the charge nurse read her the riot act - "You have to let us help you or no transplant."  They need compliant patients or there is no success.

Patients need to progress even if they have pain.  Things get worse if you don't.  Kayla insists she has terrible pain.  They had to suture her tubes site as the skin was falling away a bit.  She lost a lot of weight which loosened up this skin.  CT Surgery needed to come to the bedside and add a stitch or two to prevent oozing of the thinned out blood.


Kayla asks for her mother often.  She says I calm her down.  Actually I am her advocate who helps her.  Patients who succeed are the ones who have a good advocate caretaker.  A sick person is too weak to do this for themselves.  


When they are doing a sterile procedure at her bedside, I am frequently invited in to assist as her hand holder.  I have to wear a mask and I am quiet.  This is not for the faint of heart.  There is a lot of red blood everywhere.  Red is good - it means life!


Long Story:                 "My mother is fighting!  I can't leave my mother!" 

Mordechai was excited and fully animated.  His mother was completely down from sedation and it has become a wait and see watch.  He brings his rituals to her bedside and shares the Passover rites with her.  Over time they have taken her down from all the pressors that keep her blood pressure stable.  They have given her continuous antibiotics.  They are considering a new way to give her dialysis.  They are considering doing a tracheostomy.  It's interesting how the cardiac patients get similar tests.  The machines that do the sonograms, the EKGs, the echocardiograms roll along the floors, going into each room, to test each patient.

The doctors change every few weeks and Mordechai reports that he needs to instruct the new groups regarding his religious beliefs.  They have even written a sign which they posted on her wall.  They have a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order on her, but she hasn't arrested since the second arrest on April 2.  She is sleeping peacefully and staying stable.

Mordechai has been talking about the George Washington Bridge for two days now.  He wants to walk across it.  When I first arrived at the waiting room scene two weeks earlier, I walked around and announced that it would be fun to start an informal walking club.  

"We need to stretch our legs," I said.  Everyone looked at me like I was insane.

This was when I first met Mordechai.  I asked him directly but he answered,

"I cannot leave my mother.  I would be too far away and what if something happened?"

I said that probably nothing would, that hours and hours go by with no change.  That's been my experience.  He just looked at me blankly.  I found no takers that day. 

Guess I planted an idea...... it happened!  

Mordechai announces that he has "walked the bridge."  Wowzers - a walker!  Yessssss!!  Hey maybe we could get some people to go now....great prospects here....

We met some new people - Ross and Daniel.  They tried to move into our little corner where we leave stuff all over the chairs to claim it ourselves.  We have a lot of fun, placing this piece of clothing, those pair of shoes, a back pack, a food bag, whatever, over our claimed chairs - the good ones that stretch out for sleeping.   Mordechai has his towel, his Hebrew bible, his wine, kosher foods, kleenex, black jacket across the back of the chair.  His items are very different from my items.  

Off topic here...I think the sweetest sound I have every heard in this waiting area was the chanting that he and his brother David (pronounced Dahveed) sang one night together.   They were rocking and chanting in Hebrew.  Melodious, like a duet in a concert.  Funny thought -- they would make great singers in my small country church choir as we are always desperate for male singers, especially good ones!

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I came in to see Kayla in the ICU after one of my rests and was surprised to see two of her sorority sisters there presenting her with a special blanket they had made.  All "the girls" got together and on this plush maroon blanket they sewed patches that were the Greek letters E-A-T.  On those white patches they took  pens and wrote messages to Kayla.  Kayla was incredibly happy and tearful.  I left them alone to have their private conversation....I heard "nine girls joined this rush" as I was leaving......

All smiles on "the Kayla" cherubic face.....

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My brother Paul is a food aficionado.  No one knows where this came from as everyone else in my family does not live and breathe fancy restaurants.  For many years now, when Paul invites you to go out to a special lunch or dinner, you are in for a treat.

He has not been to see Kayla as he and his wife are afraid of hospitals.  Can't blame them there.  We have members in our family who are "medical" and others who "fainters."  Paul is in the fainting category so I forgive him.  I figured he would show up at some point.

He came with his best friend Roy.  They are quite the pair - my brother, the incredible dentist and Roy, a retired Jewish gentleman.  Paul drives Roy's fancy car for Roy whenever Roy needs to go somewhere.  They go to Rotary Club events together.   Roy is now moving into an assisted living facility and Paul is helping him with the cleaning out process in his old home.  Roy has accumulated a ton of stuff over his lifetime.  Lots and lots of it is going into the garbage.  The new living quarters are only a few blocks away, I think he said it has 109 beds and is exclusive. 

Roy is quite debonaire with white hair and a keen mind.  He has little family but he doesn't need anyone - he has Paul.  Paul would give you the shirt on his back if it was the last shirt he owned.  If you said you needed it, he would peel it off and hand it to you.  I love my brother and his generous heart.


He informs me we are going out to a really nice restaurant called The River Palm Terrace in Edgewater, New Jersey, a block away from my beloved Hudson River.  I am game.  Dining out with Paul is a unique experience.


It begins with the parking attendant who takes our car away.  I am already feeling special and high class.  I hold my head high like I am someone important, a wealthy business woman....ummm...maybe a high class lawyer....

Oh well...I am just a scrabbling, unemployed, advocating  mother of a precious critically ill, last chance at life, daughter.  Now that is the most important position in the world.


We are ushered to our table and it's beautifully set.  Those thick white napkins are fantastic!  We order many delights - lobster, clams on the half shell, Alaskan crab legs, special house salads, ice teas (which are charged by the glass - no free refills here)...I get the sesame honey crusted glazed salmon.  My brother is clearly disappointed that I didn't want to share a two-person steak with him.  He likes to order your food for you and usually I allow this, but I wanted that salmon!


Paul gets the steak and gives me little niblets from it.  This is the first time I learn that part of his steak was the T-bone side and the other part was the fillet mignon side.  I get a taste from each side.


The hot towels with fresh wedges of lemon were a nice touch.  Our waiter was truly professional.  The bill?  $195.00 for three people, plus Paul wanted to add a $38.00 tip.  Now I know why I don't go to these types of restaurants.  I would have to rob someone on the street to have that much money for this kind of extravagance.  I scrounge for food in my refrigerator to supplement my daily needs at the hospital.  


Paul drives me back to the hospital and drops me off at the front door with my doggie bag in hand.  I go up to the 5th floor and announce to Mordechai, holding bag in air, that I have dinner for the evening!


                                          ---------------------------------------


I have never understood why our Fort Lee, New Jersey apartment has held so much sentimentality for Paul, Cynthia and me, the first three born in our family of seven children and two parents.  Mom says we only lived there for 1.5 years and it was the smallest apartment you could ever imagine.  My Dad was a resident in the orthopedics speciality and he crossed the George Washington bridge every day to continue his training at Columbia/New York Presbyterian Hospital.  


I must have lived in this apartment from the age of 5 to 7, which were the years 1957-1959.  Since Paul was born in 1956, he could not have had much memory, but amazingly, he does!  


We decided we would search for it and go over our memories.  He needed me to completely verify if we had the right building.  I tell him that the only reason I am able to find it is because Mom brought me here a few years ago.  I am surprised that we were only a block from the Hudson River.  When you are five, you have no idea where the river is.  The building is just one minute from the first exit off the bridge after one enters New Jersey.


We drive around for a minute and I spot it immediately but it's completely different.  They have painted the red bricks a beige color.  There is a sign that says "Central Court Condominiums" so it is no longer called "The Cliff House."  There are green awnings over the step entrances on either side.  It is condos and no longer apartment units.


Paul is not at all sure this is the place but I am absolutely positive.  


"This is it!  I'm absolutely sure."  We go into the center entrance to find the business office.  When we tell the worker that we lived there in the 1950s, he is thrilled.  He says there is one woman who lived here back then and she bought her unit more recently.


Our fondest memory of the place is the superintendent Bill Ulrich.  He ran the entire place and he attached himself to our family as he had no relatives of his own.  As you enter the center part, his apartment was one flight down a few cement steps with a sub-basement apartment on the left.  It is still the supers apartment today.  At the age of 6, I would go and have a cup of tea with Bill in his apartment and then he would allow me to scramble all around the large pipes in the off limits mechanical room across from his apartment front door.  I would run all around in there as he fixed things.  He was like a grandfather for me.  He brought gifts for all of my siblings but had a special relationship with me that lasted until his death many years later.


When I was just past college, I went to find him in the rural part of New York state near Oneonta.  He had actually willed me a 1949 Cadillac that he was very proud of.  As he lost his vision, he crashed it and destroyed it, but I didn't care.  It was him I cared about.  I drove up and down deserted country roads and in the distance I saw a man with bowed legs proudly walking along.  I knew instantly it was him and he was happy to see me.  He called me Dafney as he never really could say the name Stephanie.  


He invited me to his modest home.  He was very happy and had finally married late in life to an elderly woman.  He showed her off to me.  She was sitting meekly in a wheelchair.  Then he asked me to reach up to the top of the refrigerator and pull down a shoe box, which I did.  He opened it up and took out a Valentine Card which had been drawn by a child and decorated with glue and glitter.   He told me that it was from me.  I cried as I held it in my hands...


Paul wanted to see the railing where he got his head stuck.  He said he wanted to get a toy that he had dropped down to the ground and he thought he could reach through the railing to get it.  His head got stuck.  Dad got some soap and soaped up Paul's head and squeezed it through.  None of us kids every forgot this event.  Adult Paul poised once again behind the exact same railing his head was stuck in.  I took a cell phone picture.


Paul remembered how we used to get stuck in the elevator because we could not reach the button which brought us to our floor.  We would wait for someone to come into the elevator to help us.  I could reach the button to get us to the bottom floor but not to get us back up.


As we walked back to the car,  I pointed out the exact spot on the sidewalk where Cynthia and I were marveling at a most beautiful caterpillar full of many colors.  We were watching it go by and along came Paul.


"I've never forgiven you for stomping your foot on it.  You killed it!"


And Paul?


He is still not apologetic.....







Monday, April 25, 2011

"The Kayla" - Thursday, April 21, 2011 - "I Love You...."

    Kayla Quote:  "I love you a lot Mom.  Thank you so much for being there for me today.  You helped me a lot.  It's always great to have you here and I really really appreciate you.  I love you.  <3 Kayla, 4/20, 3 weeks in the ICU, after her tracheostomy surgery

    Short Synopsis:  Every day is measured in inches, bits, baby steps forward.  Kayla has to learn how to breathe again.  All the muscles around her chest are gone because of the three weeks of sedation.  When her chest was open to the world for 6 days, there was even more muscle deterioration.  The blessing is that it can all come back - it just takes time and a lot of work.  She has to exercise her tired injured lungs.  They have just come off of pneumonia.  They are weak and can only take in bitty breaths.  Long slow deep breaths are harder.  The machine does most of the work but each day, they will take it down a notch, set it at a lower level.  She will  take in her own breaths.

    Most of Kayla's pain is across her middle where the 4 tubes go into the mid-section of her body.  When she moves, it irritates the whole area.  She is supposed to move in limited ways, but they will ask her to move in more ways over the next few days.  The plan is to get her up and out of the bed and sitting in a chair.


    The nurse comes in and shines a flashlight through the two canulars on her belly. The red stream of blood pulses through, tick by heart tick.   If the light shines all the way through,  there are no blood clots.  The blood is kept thin with heparin.   This is important as her beleaguered heart has fully clogged coronaries, but blood must still pass through.  Getting the right balance of medicines is tricky.


    The Long Story:  I spent the night in Tarrytown again.  I have a routine now that is scheduled around the show rehearsals.  When I have a musical practice, I make sure I am in Ridgefield for it.  After the practice, I sleep at my home and see Mike, Thomas, the cats, do paperwork, errands.  I also exercise which means I swim a half mile in the morning.  I eat nutritious food.  I want to be at my physical and mental peak to do all that I have to do.  I want to have my best mind for helping "the Kayla."

    Mike is amazing - he keeps our home beautiful.  He is clean and we are on the same page.  We are simpifying our home in all ways possible - getting rid of anything we do not use.  When you walk in, it's pleasant, beautiful and peaceful.  He leaves the mail and I sort through it,  putting it in piles for action or filing.  Many are sending beautiful cards of love for "the Kayla."  People are asking what they can do.  I tell them all the same thing - come and see her.  She thrives on company.  What they don't know is that when "the Kayla" has people around her, she forgets her constant physical pain.   She is stoic - I cannot understand how she can even bear it.

    I love to drive and am doing a lot of it with going to Tarrytown, which is 20-25 minutes away or to Ridgefield -  1 hour away.  Driving is something Americans do second nature.  We are always in our cars, well at least a segment of our population is.  I am in that segment.  My car is my second home.  I do everything in it - eat, rest, text,  practice singing with a CD....I play driving games in it.

    When I am tired, I drive like a doddering old woman in the right lane.  I go slowly, nearly falling asleep at the wheel.  This is rare these days as I have gotten smarter and know how to drive safely.  Most of the time I am whizzing in the left lane to pass and going over to the right lane after.  The fun begins when some crazy youngster is speeding up behind and blasting past.  I do not like to be passed so I situate my car to make it difficult for this blaster.  I block the lane.

    If they are next to me and are rushing by, I get even and pick up my speed.  If  there is one thing most competitive, Type A people hate, it's someone coming up on their side, trying to get by them.

    Then there are the crazy-don't-have-a-clue-dangerous-drivers, who come up.  You never even see them in your rear view mirror.  They rocket by at 90 mph, cut off your front bumper by mere inches, slip in and are gone.  With great  finesse they  bully you into slowing down or an accident will happen.  They rely on you making a defensive move.  They insist upon it!

    I am always curious who these daredevils are and I try to catch up to them just to see who the driver is.  Young? Male or female?  Most of the time they are impossible to catch as they continue to weave in and out, but on the rare occasion when I am able to get to them, I am always surprised!  It's not who you think it will be - a young male, maybe 16-24 age range.....it's someone you completely don't expect.  Someone from any age group!

                                                      ----------------------------------------

    Talon, my sister's 8-year-old son is home for the week for Spring break.  He has nothing to do but watch TV or play video games or maybe go outside for a little bit.  There are no kids in the neighborhood for him to play with....not like when I was a child in another neighborhood nearby.  He must get bored.  His parents, landscape architects, are working hard designing, planting, maintaining gardens.  Spring is their high season for constant work.

    I tell "the Kayla" that I am going to spend the morning with Talon, going on an adventure.  It is a lazy morning and now it is around 9:30.  I am still in my pajamas and so is Talon but when I tell him to be ready in 20 minutes to go out, he is ready in 5.

    He gets in my car in the back seat and puts on his seat belt.

    "You are not allowed to sit in the front?" I ask.

    "No," he says and tells me he is not big enough ye, but he is no longer in the booster seat, he proudly points out.  He clicks his belt shut.

    "Ok, I have to obey your parent's rules.  That's the right thing to do but I feel like a chauffeur," I tell him.  I drive slow as molasses any time I have children in the car.  There is absolutely none of my usual game playing when children, or any passenger, is in my car.

    We drive down to Goldberg's Hardware store on Main Street and Talon sits in the car, like I am supposed to go in by myself.  Main Street slopes down to the Hudson River and you can see the water.

    "This is not adventure!" he admonishes.

    "This is only the beginning!  I have to get some keys made so your Mom and I won't get locked out of the house anymore....and your Dad too.  Anytime you go anywhere, it's an adventure, you'll see.  Besides, this is only the beginning."

    Talon jumps out of the car.  We go in and he remembers that he has been here about a year ago with Grandma.  She took him upstairs to see the stuff up there.  He asks permission if we can go and I say yes.  Up there he plays with all the mailboxes.  They are ridiculously fancy and they all have lock boxes.  Guess everyone is afraid someone will steal their mail.

    Back into the car , we continue down the hill.  The river is just feet away now.  I tell Talon I need a coffee so we head to Dunkin' Donuts where I buy him a donut.  We sit and look out the window.

    "Now, our adventure truly begins," I tell him.  "I am taking you to the river, to Kingsland Point Park.  Have you ever been there?"  Talon is looking out of the window now as we drive there.  He knows these streets.  His Dad has brought him along these routes to baseball fields for practice.

    I park by the golden eagle statute next to the river.  I tell him that as a teenager we used to come to this eagle and look at it, take pictures in front of it.  I ask him to climb up so I can take a cell phone picture of him and send it to his parents.  He refuses.  He has absolutely no interest in the eagle.  He goes up to it and shows me there is no identification sign for what its purpose is.  We search all around it -- nothing.  It's majestic with the golden wings spread out but what is it a symbol for?

    Talon observes other things completely different from what I am observing.  We walk into the small private boat club right next to the train station.  It is the beginning of the season.  Workers are cleaning up the debris from the last storm and there is plenty of wash up from the river.  We walk all the way to the point, past the picnic tables, across the shipped in sand.  We come upon a female Canadian goose who is sitting on her nest of sticks.  She is hidden but my trained eye finds her and she is not happy, her neck is stretched up high.

    "Don't worry.  We are just looking at you.  Talon, look at this.  She is sitting on her eggs."  But Talon is not the least bit interested.  He like the debris better.  He sees an old tennis ball and asks permission to throw it in the river.  Yes, of course.  Then he sees an old soccer ball, whose cover is torn off...then an old tire, soda bottles, large pieces of driftwood.

    "Geez...I am trying to get you interested in nature...the birds."

    We continue on to the other side of the park and walk a long distance past the old General Motors parking lot.  The car plant from my youth is long gone and only grass clumps grow up through broken cement pieces in this expansive abandoned parking lot.  The plant was right next to the river.  Today the land is  idle as all the structures have been torn down and carted away.  I once knew a girl in my neighborhood whose father was a foreman there.  Every year her Dad had a new car and and we were excited when he brought it  home to his driveway.

    Talon and I see a light house and I am shocked.

    "You know Talon...even though I grew up here...there is  much I never knew about.  I had no idea there was a lighthouse here, not a clue."

    We walk along the river's edge.  The wind is strong, the air chilly so we duck behind trees along the way to get warm.  Talon sees the metal walkway out to the lighthouse and asks if it is safe.  He is cautious and not sure.  It is fine, you can tell.  There is no one going out yet as the season is not open, a perfect time to explore in peace, just him and me.  The door is locked but we walk all around the house on a metal platform.  Someone lived in here and guided ships so they would not crash on the rocks.

    When we walk back, Talon asks to play on the playground.  He climbs up to the top of the highest play equipment.  King of the Hill!

    As we leave, we notice that we are not allowed to drive out the regular exit which swings around the back.  The storm has left puddles and Talon says it would be fun to drive through one.  I oblige.  The car goes through a few inches of water for about 100 yards and it splashes up on our left side.  Then I go to leave and Talon says,

    "I wish we could do that again..."

    I change my mind and drive back.  There is a strong  tall fence around the General Motors parking lot, but today they have left the gate open.

    "Talon, look, lots more puddle water there.  Let's try that!"  We drive in.  There is a small lake of left over storm water.  I look out the window to check.   It is only a couple of inches deep.

    We drive straight into it.

    Egad!!  The car plummets into deep water, almost 2 feet.  Talon yelps!  I slam on my brakes and do reverse, and barely make it back.

    "Oh dear.  That wasn't too smart Talon.  Another few feet and we would have had to call a tow truck.  I had no idea it was going to get that deep that fast.  I figured it would be inches all the way across....!!"

                                                     -----------------------------------------

    Mike hadn't seen Kayla for a number of days and wanted to visit the hospital.  When he came he was exhausted and could not stay awake.  I grabbed up Kayla's special gel pillow, changed the pillow case and kneaded a nice depression into it.  I set it up for him at the side of her bed.  He put his arms over it and sunk his chin down.  He was asleep in an instant.

    "Your father is exhausted.  Maybe tonight wasn't a good night for him to come."  I leave to go home.

    As I began the drive north up the parkway, Kayla texts me....

    "It's ok, Mom...I've been petting his head."

    "The Kayla" - Wednesday, April 20, 2011 - "I'm Dying"

    Kayla Quote:  "I'm dying!"

    Short Synopsis:  Today was a big day.  At the bedside, Kayla got a tracheostomy surgery.  They created a sterile field, cut a hole in her neck and implanted a new tube.  The surgery was scheduled first thing in the morning at 7:30 as she had waited for days.  This was really great but all good things take time.  It wasn't done until 11 a.m. and it went very well.  Now her head was totally free - no central line and no respirator.  I could now comb out the mat!

    Long Story:  Kayla's pneumonia is really resolved now but her white blood cell count is still high.  It was up to 17 but it now tracking down and getting to normal ranges.  It's at 11.5 with normal being 10.

    Kayla was very happy just hanging out with me.  Her trach area was a little bit sore but not bad.  Everything was going smoothly.  Then a nurse came in with a syringe and informed Kayla that she needed this shot of darbepoetin alfa (.75 mg).  It was a single use pre-filled needle and it had to go into the stomach.

    Kayla panicked!  Quickly it escalated into a full blown attack of nerves.  She grabbed my hands and was scared.  I tried to calm her down.   I am getting better at this.  It's ok, I told her.  It's only a shot.

    The substance was supposed to help Kayla's body make more red blood cells.  Without any hesitation, the nurse plunged it into her belly.

    Kayla grabbed her clipboard and scrawled  - "I'm dying!"

    Wow - not that is fear!

    "No, you are fine, sweetheart.  It's going to be ok."  I stroked her forehead like my Michael taught me.  It calms her down immediately.  I told her that it would be just fine.  Talking gently with touch really works for her and I am relieved.  It took only a few short minutes.

    I began to work on her hair mat.  When she wasn't aware, I got a pair of scissors from the nurse from one of the kits and cut into it.  There was no way to comb it out otherwise.  Long clumps of hair came out.  It could always grow back.  It took nearly an hour to get it completely done.  I then combed it free and put in in a mess bun at the top of her head.

    "No, I want a ponytail," she says.

    "Ok."
                                                         -------------------

    Violet, the red-tailed hawk is still sitting on her three eggs.  She is patient and quiet.  What a mother....  The mother fox was sighted too....she ran across the back of our garage, but no one has seen her pups for days.

                                                       --------------------

    Judith, Mordechai's mother,  is 73 and suffered two cardiac arrests over a three day period.  She is located in the CCU - Cardiac Care Unit, which is right next to Kayla's unit.  Mordechai walks through Kayla's unit as he makes his way to see his mother.  This is the only way he can go because there is no mechanical device to get into the unit.  He can just open a door.  No fire power there so he is obeying his religious rules...

    He walks by Kayla's bed each time he walks through the unit.  Now that he knows where she is located, he can glance into her room to see how she is.  She is awake a lot of the time but she does not know him yet, even though he knows her.

    His mother is completely off the sedation but she is not responsive still, but where there is life, there is hope.

    "Can I come and meet your mother?

    "Sure....."

    Saturday, April 23, 2011

    "The Kayla" - Tuesday, April 19, 2011 - "The Soul Is In the Body"

    Kayla Quote:  "The world would never be the same without her smile...she is one of the most kind and genuine people I have ever met...and it saddens me to the fullest that she has to go through this again.  I pray for strength..."  Margarita and Aidan, her son Aiden  in an email 4/19/11 (Aiden is turning 2 on April 20)

    Short Synopsis:   The central line came out this morning.  Last night the nurse got a new board with new valves and transferred over all the medicine lines from the central neck line to the PICC in her right arm.  More progress.  Everything is in slow motion in this intensive care unit.  One has to be patient.  They are feeding her through a tube that goes from her nose directly into her stomach.  She is being nourished.  Her muscles in her legs are definitely atrophying.  This is the future plan - to get her moving again.

    Kayla has a lot of physical pain in her stomach area.  The one inch tubes go directly into her body, four of them.  They are sutured in and the sites are painful.  She is moved up in the bed by two nurses and even sliding her with the blanket that is underneath her  causes her tremendous pain.  I wonder if time will lessen this particular pain site.  They put little towels between her stomach skin and the canisters to help.

    The Long Story:  Mordechai and I have formed a weird sort of family here in our intense state of watching our loved ones going through hell.  He's a third grade Hebrew teacher in Atlanta, Georgia.  He has five children and a wife.  His two oldest sons are 18 and 16, then a daughter, who is 12 and then two more sons, who are 10 and 6.

    "The Jews and the Catholics, Mordechai - they have the biggest families.  I am the eldest of seven.  My family is Catholic but I left it.  I am now Protestant."

    "My wife and I are liberal.  We did not have children every year.  We wanted to give more to our children and with too many, you can't do that.  She is the oldest of 11.  Her mother had one last child and that one has Down's Syndrome.  They now all live in Israel," he tells me.

    We are finding out about how the other one lives.  I watch how he conducts his daily life but it is very special these days because it is Passover.  He cannot use anything that is electric or comes from fire.  He cannot push the elevator button.  He cannot turn on a light.  He cannot even use the microwave here in the waiting room.  His special candle lights are plug in but he was able to plug it in during a particular time and just leave it plugged in day and night.  

    Upstairs on the sixth floor is a special Hebrew room where volunteers bring kosher food that is prepared properly for him to eat.  There is a key pad and he knows the code.  He brought me up when he found out that I am allergic to wheat.  All the special passover foods are prepared without wheat.

    We go up and he tells me to tell  no one that "I am not Jewish."  He does not want to get into trouble.  There are loads of wonderful cookies and cakes in little packages and I pick up one for a late afternoon snack.  There are large plastic bags with meals for families whose loved one are here in the hospital.  Many are not picked up or forgotten.

    A woman comes in and sees me.  I just pretend that I belong there.  Maybe I look like a reformed Jew.  I tell her that perhaps it would be better to bring these big bags directly to the families, that maybe they are just too stressed to come and pick them up.  I have seen some of the volunteers bring these around - it seems to work well that way.  She agrees and then says that these bags have been there too long now.  They need to be thrown away.

    Mordechai is silent.  I can see that he feels guilty.  Not me....I can pull this off.  We leave and I have my special cookies for later.
                                                                     - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
    Kayla is very anxious a lot of the  time and is wearing out her nurses with demands.  Her newest thing that she wants is two bags of ice, which she puts under her hands.  She also has a bag of ice that she puts under her feet which are all the way up to the end of the bed. This comforts her greatly as she gets overheated.  The fan is on her all the time but she is still hot.  She likes to have her back rubbed.  She enjoys having her forehead petted gently, something that Michael started and it calms her down.  She gives requests constantly.  I tell her to stop.  I am finished with this.  She has to let me sit down and rest now.

    She has been through more than anyone can even imagine and her spirit is still strong.  She is still interested in all that is going on around her.  It is too bad that she cannot see the Hudson River outside of her window but her bed is facing the unit, not the river.  It is no wonder she wanted to go back to the other unit.  There her bed was sideways and she could watch the lazy barges roll by.  This is what she enjoyed the most.


                                                 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 


    I ask Mordechai about his mother.  How is she doing?  They have let her up out of her sedation but she is not responding.  She is in renal failure.  She is on a respirator.  They are putting medicines into her body.  The doctors are asking if the family wants to stop treatment.


    "Her soul is in her body," he tells me.  "We do not believe in stopping treatment.  She is not ready to go to God."  I am respectful of his beliefs.  He is strong in his convictions.  Maybe there is something left of his mother, his strong mother, who raised him and his brothers well....





    Thursday, April 21, 2011

    "The Kayla" - Monday, April 18, 2011 - "Waters Receding"

    Kayla Quote:  "I have a lot of bad nightmares!!! and some nights I barely sleep....why can't I go to the other ICU?...they have me on no transplant meds?...was in a 3 week coma, could barely write or move...I want Janelle to wear a mask, just in case as I have had a fever...just in case cuz I love you! and I don't want you to get sick...there is a ice machine Lil' Robertson...go get some ice...it helps...I had that pre-cancer surgery and my heart failed and I was asleep 3 weeks in coma, then woke up here a week ago..scared, pain and upset...."  Kayla beginning to communicate via pen on clipboard

    Short Synopsis:  Kayla is really progressing...at least in the ICU world of blipping machines, artificial devices, feeding tubes, catheters, tweaking of intravenous medicines....small steps forward.  She is still on the respirator and cannot get off.  She simply is not able to breathe on her own, yet but they feel positively that she will.  She just needs time.  Her lung injury which she sustained at the time of the cardiac arrest and the ensuing pneumonia has made this impossible.  Her lungs can fully recover - they also need time.

    The best part is that the P-VAD is working beautifully and fully sustaining her body.  Her brain is definitely all there and she is wanting to communicate at all times!  Her handwriting is shaky, but legible and each passing hour, it becomes more readable.

    Today they surgically implanted the PICC (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter) line in her right arm.

    Long Story:  My sister Cynthia and her daughter, Lauren, drove in from the Boston area for a quick 24 hour stay.  They wanted to see Kayla.  They came to the city with Grandma and visited Kayla early in the morning.  I was unable to see them as I arrived soon after they left.

    Am not sure I mentioned the Cohen family, who have been here as long as I have.  They are Orthodox Jews - three devoted brothers and their Aunt.  Their mom had two cardiac arrests over a 3 day period but she is very strong and still alive.  The first week they were all here together and sleeping in the waiting room, hardly leaving at all.  Their mom's arrests occurred around the same time as Kayla's.  Essentially, we are all here in this sad harbor together.

    I am often here alone as most of my relatives need to work.  The economy is very bad so they are all working even more than before.  I wish I could work too, but cannot at the moment, although I have set up two areas of short-term work.  I substitute teach swim lessons at the local rec center in order to keep my Water Safety Instructor's license current.  I also am signed up to do occasional nanny work, where I can go from home to home and work a day or two.  These will suit me for the time being as I care-take Kayla.

    We were extremely lucky that she was helped immediately with her cardiac arrest.  She really would have dropped down to the floor and would have died in only a few minutes time.  There is no quicker way to die than cardiac arrest.  It gives me the creeps thinking that her demise was only a few days away.  Her heart was a ticking bomb, ready to just flitter and flop with blood flow backing up and stopping.

    I am beginning to believe that God has a special plan for Kayla.  There is a reason she is still here.  I have had many discussions with her regarding this.

    "Kayla, I think God wants you to show the world that there should be more organ donors.  You have a special way with people and your face is a poster face. Let's get the word out there and not only would we be trying to save your life, we could be helping saves dozens more."

    Kayla is too sick and in too much pain to respond.  When she was stronger, she was interested in helping others but when you grow weak, you spend most of your time surviving.  Her body is too tired.

                                                  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    It's lonely in this big waiting room.  There are cubicle areas with brown plastic leather plush chairs.  Some open up as recliners for those who sleep here and many do.   I study the other families that come and go.  Every day new dramas are unfolding.  The people are grief stricken, hollow.  Only a few children who are dragged along seem able to laugh and play.

    I find those three Cohen brothers.  They have taken over the middle section.  There are in their clean pressed, white button up shirts, their black long pants,black socks,  black shoes.  Their hair is neat and cut short.   They have black yamacas perched smartly on their heads.

    They are laughing and having fun!  They are solicitous of the others around them, asking how each family is doing.

    I watch them for several days.  It is clear to me that this is the family I want to align myself with.    By the third day, I go over and begin to say hello.  They are incredibly friendly and jovial.  I want some of that.  Give me some of that!

    I am finally in.  I can sit in their spare chair and just be quiet.  I feel better now.  I have someone who can watch my stuff if I go and do things like get a soda or a meal...or even go to the bathroom.  I don't have to put on my small backpack, grab up my food bag, hoist up my heavy purse, throw my notebook computer strap over my shoulder, put on my sweater....and drag it all along with me.

    I have a ton of stuff with me now.  I am a walking house with all that I need.  I have become a vagabond....a person without a permanent home.  I stay in Tarrytown many nights a week.  I stay in Ridgfield the other nights.  I stay with cousin Daryl.  Everyone is feeding me and taking care of me.

    My car, once again, is a mess but I am living out of it with ease.  Perhaps this is the life I was meant to live.  I have added a big suitcase with a bunch of clothes and shoes and all.  I saw others roaming around the hospital with suitcases on wheels....what a good idea.   This could simplify it all...but no,  it has added one more large, cumbersome bag.  I leave it in the trunk of the car and never bring it into the hospital.

    For at least a week, I have hung out with my new orthodox family.  They live by strict religious rules and I like that.  They are polite and respectful along with their playfulness.

    One day I arrived and they are gone....

    I am desperately bereft!


    How stupid was I?  I never even got their emails, their telephone numbers, nothing.  They had scattered back to where they had come from....Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta, Phoenix....Brooklyn.

                                                        - - - - - - - - - - - - 

    This morning I stepped out of the elevator, dragged down by the weight of my daughter's situation and the weight of all my bags.  As I step out.....


    "Mordechai!  You're back!"  I couldn't believe it!  One of the brothers is standing before me.  He has a huge smile on his face.  He excuses himself and says he will be back later.

    I know what that means.  He is visiting his mother in the intensive care unit.  He rushes off, but I am satisfied.  I search for the best seating spot in the waiting area.  The corner is not occupied so I grab the chair against the wall.  Opposite me is another chair that I put a sweater on to reserve it for Mordechai.

    Sure enough, hours later, he comes and takes over the empty chair.  We settle into our new arrangement and the minute he arrives I thank him, jump up, with just one small purse and run out to the street.  I leave all my other stuff behind.....I want to purchase a chalk board for Kayla.  She is really beginning to write.....

    What an incredible day this has become!  Twelve people are seeing "the Kayla" today.....Me, Janice, Janelle, Missy, Adam, Erika, Emily, Debra Bel and Sarah, her daughter, Grandma, sister Cynthia, cousin Lauren.  Kayla absolutely thrives on loads of people.

    They did the surgery on her right arm to put in the PICC (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter) line.  Kayla was frightened.  She has been through so much pain.  It seems that many of the procedures they do involve much physical pain.  She wanted me there so I was allowed to put on a surgical mask as they began to get her ready.  I held her soft hand.  This procedure was to be done right at the bedside.  They just create a sterile environment.

    There was a sonogram machine that let the doctors know how her deep veins were doing and which one could be tapped into.  The woman doctor told me she originally worked as a surgeon for the Navy.  She asked a lot of questions about Kayla and noted that Kayla had very small veins and "cut down scars."

    "Yes, those cut downs were from when she was 5-weeks-old.  She was in Yale New Haven Hospital with her first heart failure and they needed to get access to her veins.  She has cut-down scars on both arms."

    "Yes, I see them."

    When Kayla was finally out completely from propofol, I was able to leave the room.  I would have stayed except it was extremely hot under the mask, with all the equipment generating loads of heat.  The sun was coming in the window adding additional degrees.

    About an hour later, they informed me that the PICC implant was successful.  This line can last up to a year if it is taken care of.  It has to be kept clean and clear of infection and it's a great line for intravenous access to her veins.

    They would come back in a few hours to check the placement with the sonogram machine.  If everything was in a good place, they would pull the central line out of her neck and her neck would be free!

    Unfortunately, there was no room in the OR (operating room) for taking out the respirator tube from her mouth and throat.  It seems that we always need to wait a few days for time in the OR.  When you hear the word "Ad on" - it's not good.  It means you have to wait and you still could get bumped.   Emergency and trauma operations take over valuable time in the operating rooms but even more importantly, there are simply not enough surgeons.  They get booked up quickly.

    Also brewing was a huge mat of hair in the back of her head.  Something melted her rubber band that was holding a ponytail there and after several weeks had passed, I noticed it when I felt back there, a big un-comb-able mat.  With so much going on with her health and more important issues to tend to....well, this would have to wait.  It would be hard to access it with the central line in her neck obstructing everything.  As soon as that was out, I would tackle the mat with scissors and comb.

    Kayla is on high doses of all kinds of narcotics which causes problems.  She now has a high tolerance for these drugs and they do not work as well.  It all started with Danbury Hospital giving her intravenous dilaudid for migraine pain.  Then she needed more and more.  Many patients have this problem.  For the past week, I was surprised to find that they were decreasing her dosing for several different narcotics as they were giving her methadone for withdrawal.  This was working well.  Kayla has pain all over her body, especially at sites where there are big tubes and devices implanted into her.  Her courage is astounding. 

    No one has any idea how she is able to live through all of this intense pain and still look forward to seeing her many friends and family.  Courage should be her middle name.

                                                - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    Violet and Bobby, the red-tailed hawks are doing really well.  I like to get on the internet and click on the Livestream to see how they are (nytimes/cityroom red-tailed hawks - livestream). 

    The winds were very high today from the intense storm activity and there was Violet, sitting just like a chicken on her perfect nest.  Little bitty feathers were floating all over the top of the nest.  Violet's feathers were fluffing up too.  She was calm and looking around.  Watching the counter is as much fun as watching her.   It goes up and down by many numbers.  When I first clicked in, it said 1,090....then in 10 seconds, it was 1,079....then 1,100....

    Can you imagine that many people watching this calm scene where basically nothing is happening?  Over the next few days, this number will rise dramatically.  The three eggs are due to hatch soon.  Everyone is waiting for the baby birds to peck their way up out of their eggs.  I am.  New life excites me.

                                                               - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    Kayla would laugh.  The cats would not let me sleep all night.  They want to go out when they want to go out.  Rheuy is the worst.  He climbs all over the bedside tables and up on the window ledge high above me.  I am afraid he will jump down on my face.

    He knocks things over off the table and makes me mad.  I yell out at him.  The other two cats are just watching.  I have strung up the lines that are used to pull up the shades.  They have clawed that to get my attention too, but now they cannot reach it.

    It is 2:38 a.m. and I am not going to let them out.  Coyotes....the fox...whatever.  We have our new policy.  They must stay in.  I get the water spritzer and am ready.  I slam closed the bedroom door.

    Clawing at the door.....I jump up, open the door and SPRITZ!!!

    It's Babee....he is not the culprit.  Poor Babeeeeee!!!!



    Tuesday, April 19, 2011

    "The Kayla" - Sunday, April 17, 2011 - "Waters Still High"

    Kayla Quote:  "mom comr gaickkkkkk pleqwe"

    Short Synopsis:  The plan is to get the central line out of Kayla's neck, get a PICC line into her arm and get her off the respirator.  Get all the stuff out of her head, get her mouth and throat free and move forward, forward, forward!  Future is getting her sitting up and out of bed, talking, eating.

    Everything seems to be on hold here because there is no room in the operating room and not enough surgeons.  Too many patients and not enough personnel.

    Am not going to complain too hard....Kayla is getting excellent care and they haven't guided us wrong yet.

    Long Story:  After sleeping in Tarrytown, I couldn't wait to get back to Kayla's bedside.  I tried to drive down only to discover that the Saw Mill was still flooded.  They closed portions of the highway for two days!

    When I got to the hospital, it wasn't exactly fruitful.  Not much going on.  Nurse giving me a report was more like a non-report - same old, same old.
    In the afternoon, my sisters, Valerie and Deirdre, visited and with Kayla for two hours.  I pre-warned them about the watery highway.  Sarah Bel came back also and arrived just as they were leaving, so "the Kayla" had company.   She is communicating more and more by writing on white pieces of paper on a clipboard....at first the messages made no sense but we could figure them out.  She does not give up!

    I left by 11 a.m. when Kayla was sleeping.  I had an important chorale practice from 1 - 5 p.m. at the Recreation Center.  We were going to cover movement, dialogue...run through the first act....then, maybe the second act, after that.  I was excited to go.
    The Saw Mill Parkway should be renamed the Swamp Parkway.  Police were stopping traffic and to my horror, about a dozen cars began to back up desperately trying to get off a previous exit.  It was weird to see them rushing backwards.  I wish I had known what they apparently knew.

    Closed highway!

    For the next hour, the traffic inched over one small mile.  I  took out my music sheets, set them open on the steering wheel, put in the accompanying practice CD and began to sing.  Since it was beautiful and sunny out, I opened up the windows and sun roof.  I sang loud, looking to see if anyone noticed.  Boredom makes one create fun games and  I was getting rolling.

    To my right was a hispanic man talking non-stop even louder than my singing on his cell phone, 
     "TRAFFICO!  TRAFFICO!"

    His chatter diminished my song and he did not notice the sweet songs sounds from my show practice.  Umm.... 

    Next!

    The car aheadof his  had a senior citizen couple, but they too  also did not notice.

     A young teen was blasting rap and no dent there either.

    Ok, my game was getting boring.
    I got a ton of practice accomplished but was then was dumped into Yonkers, off Exit 7A.  

    Got to head to the river.  Always head to that blessed Hudson River.  When you hit it, you can just turn right and drive north.

    Yonkers is full of large factories and old brick buildings.  No river just a dead end!  Now how can you hit a dead end when you are  looking for the river?  I would think that you could just drive directly into the water.  Dead end was truly a dead end.  In front of me was a big factory building, to the right another one, to the left one more.  No one can see a river through an old structure. Really strange....no people anywhere.

    Had to turn around....

    Had to turn left and head north again.    Found 9A and then Route 9 North.  Up through Hastings, Dobbs Ferry, Irvington and then into the southern edge of Tarrytown....right turn to get to Route 684.
    Three hours later I am finally in Ridgefield!

                                                                  - - - - - - - - - - -

    Our sweet little red foxes are nowhere in sight.  We look for them all the time now.  The red fox likes to take over woodchuck burrows and there used to be one beneath the shed.  Every summer, woodchucks are in and out of there, but they have been gone for a while now.  Coyotes probably finished them off.  Foxes usually improve these abandoned dens and take over them as their own.

    The "sly fox" will have more than one den and will  move their pups from one to the next to keep ahead of their predators.  These foxes eat mice, rabbits, chipmunks, fruits, insects, birds and eggs, carrion, garbage and yes, they might even go after our cats, but at least it's a fair fight.   Our cats are locked in at night for sure now until these pups are gone.  They leave after a few months and scatter.

    In the early 1700s, the indigenous red foxes were found in mixed forests and open areas while the native gray fox liked more dense woods.  In the 1750s, the European red fox was brought into the eastern part of the United States and very likely interbred with the native red fox.  This produced a hybrid mix from both these types of foxes.  This "hybrid" is the only red fox found in Connecticut.

    Since our Stonecrest neighborhood is full of coyotes up top near the woods, these foxes are much safer down at the bottom of the streetRed fox dens are occurring in between the territories of the coyotes.

    "Steph, Alice saw the foxes," reports Mike.


    "She did?"
       
    "But it's not good news.  There was only the mother and one cub and she was limping.  Her leg was injured."


    Oh no........