May 31, 2015

She is so alert today. She is trying to hard to communicate something to us, but none of us can seem to get it right. I don't know how she can even form sentences with that tube down her throat. First she pointed to her eyes. "Do you want your glasses?" she nods. After I …

May 30, 2015

Today they tell us they are providing "supportive care." It means there is nothing they can do except hope and pray that her body can fight hard enough to survive. The dialysis should be working by now. They have filled her with so much fluid these past four days, but none of it is coming …

May 29, 2015

Today I signed off on a dialysis catheter. They come into her room and stick a needle into her neck. They say this is the safest way to get her what she needs, least risk of infection. I stand outside her room and hold my fingers in my ears. She screams so loud I can …

May 28, 2015

This is the morning we find out nobody knows anything. They know they have no reversal because they call down to the pharmacy and are told one doesn't exist. It never has. The cardiologist writes in his notes, "research anecdote for pradaxa." The cardiologist who prescribed it to her four years earlier doesn't know there …

May 27, 2015

It's 1:30am on Wednesday. We've been sitting in the waiting room for hours now, waiting for them to get her settled into her new room. The ICU is like a culdesack of the most critically ill. My grandma's neighbors are loud, their machines beeping and humming for hours on end. Finally, the doctor comes in …

May 26, 2015

It's 6:30pm on Tuesday.   I've just hung up the phone with my grandma. She called to ask if I wanted to pick up my groceries from her house, asked about my day, told me about her's. "Tomorrow"  I said, because there is always tomorrow. She asked me if she should call me back to …