Chapter 9
It has been quite a while since I’ve written about our journey “through the valley”. My intention was to complete it on December 15th of 2022. That would have marked the one year anniversary that Joey came home. Sadly, the day before, on December 14th, my father would go home to Heaven. Needless to say, facing the loss of my father, I was not in a place to write.
So here we are again, welcome back. If you’ve forgotten where we left off, click here to link to the last chapter. If you’re new here and want to start at the beginning, then here’s the link for you.
November 20
Post-Joey’s tracheostomy procedure, the respiratory team made necessary modifications to the ventilator and carried out breathing exercises to aid his recovery. Some exercises proved effective, while others caused a decline in Joey’s oxygen levels in the absence of the ventilator. However, he showed progress, for which we were thankful.
After what seemed like an eternity, the speech pathology and respiratory team successfully connected a speaking valve to Joey’s trach. For the first time in a long while, we heard Joey’s voice. Though he sounded a little different due to his weakened state, Joey surprised us all by breaking into song, much to the delight of his care team.
He tried singing a line of Mary, Did You Know and some other song, one I had never heard him sing before. Something about a man whose wife had apparently left but then came back to him. We all laughed and I couldn’t help shedding tears of happiness.
It was quite entertaining. He talked about being Irish, liking comedy, and asked Nurse Brenda if she was the girlfriend of our son, Cameron. He even teased one of our male nurses, Graham, with the line, “My eyes are up here, pal”. It was obvious he wasn’t able to think clearly, but it beat trying to read his lips.
Joey could only tolerate the speaking valve for a few minutes before tiring out, but it was a step in the right direction. We were grateful for those moments.
Joey was making progress, but he was still experiencing hallucinations as he slowly tapered off the meds. While entertaining at times, other times it was very difficult. There were times when he thought the hospital was a part of our house. I would leave to go to the restroom and he’d ask if I could get him some clothes from downstairs.
There was also a time that Joey believed that we had lost our house. He had an elaborate story as to why. I explained we still had our house and everything was fine. We would repeat this song and dance over and over. One day he brought it up taking it even further, asking if I retrieved his guitars from the house. I finally decided to go along since convincing him was unsuccessful. I assured him I took care of his guitars and everything else. He seemed satisfied and left it alone.
I’m curious as to why Joey hallucinated some of the things that he did. During his stay in the ICU, he became convinced that the team had mistreated him. He was under the impression that they had strapped him to an ambulance in his hospital gown and left him outside, ignoring his pleas for assistance. I believe that was partially due to the fact that for a period of time, his hands had to remain strapped to the hospital bed so as not to pull out the tube that was going down his throat. It took some time, but eventually I was able to persuade Joey that the team had not treated him poorly.
Some of the hallucinations were quite humorous. He told me how his Aunt Rhea, who had a pool in her backyard, had a monkey caged up along with other exotic animals that were able to swim in her pool. To this day, we still laugh about that one.
He hallucinated about cockroaches crawling all over his bed and spiders on the walls. Sometimes he hallucinated about family members being at the hospital and ignoring him as he hollered for them. Other times he would be looking at an object in his room thinking it was something else until I would clarify what he was actually looking at.
Another time included Joey arguing with one of his male nurses. He insisted he was capable of getting up and walking out of the hospital because in his mind, his parents were coming to take him to a football game.
He attempted to plead his case to the nurse, who I’m not even sure pieced together all that Joey thought he was going to do since without the speaking valve, he really had no voice and we were left to lip reading.
Nonetheless, Joey insisted on getting up despite the nurse’s warning that he was unable to even hold himself up. The nurse allowed Joey to try, but as expected, he was unsuccessful, and ultimately gave up telling the nurse to let his parents know he wasn’t able to go.
Joey’s parents actually did come to visit him while he was in the ICU, but he has no recollection of their visit. Instead, he vividly remembers experiencing this hallucination where he saw his parents walk by his room, with his mother appearing much younger. When Joey’s parents actually came to visit, his mother was in a wheelchair and unable to walk.
My heart went out to him as I watched him struggle daily with reality and his hallucinations. Not only was it sad to see, but also tiring as I constantly tried to clarify and convince him that none of what he believed happened, had ever happened.
The evenings particularly, were heartbreaking. Every night as I got ready to leave, he thought he could come home with me. He’d ask if we had to load up his hospital bed and all his stuff in the car. Again, I had to explain to him that he had to stay there and I watched as his countenance dropped.
I felt horrible, almost like I was leaving a small child behind. I would hold back tears until I rounded the corner and he couldn’t see me. I’d cry all the way down the elevator and outside to my car.
Moments like those would wreck me. I desperately tried carrying my cross with humility and submission, but most days it felt like I had ten piled on top. I was well aware of our steps of progress but I was weary from the journey. Though he was making strides, I couldn’t help but wonder how much longer we had to go.
… to be continued.
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