… but for now I can say that Mark has had a hard couple days. His surgery on Monday lasted almost 13 hours. They did what they intended to do. By Tuesday at 4pm, they determined that he was getting air that did not belong there into his brain. The ENT and neurosurgeon opened him back up last night to fix the problem, which was a gap in the graft that allowed air in.
Mark’s currently in the neuro ICU, vented, on 100% O2. In the surgery, the docs used some belly fat (I know, where did he even have that?!) to seal up the leak. The O2 is to allow his brain tissue to reabsorb the excess air in the cranium. He is sedated. I walked into the ICU, saw the drip, and thought, “isn’t that what killed Michael Jackson?” Because it looked like milk, and I remembered that being something MJ asked for, his milk. I looked up the med and yes, indeed, it is. Which I don’t mind, persay. Mark needs to rest, in a regulated environment.
Today, the nurses reduced Mark’s sedation to check on him every two hours. When he’s not asleep, he spends his time with his eyes closed, not quite conscious, working to figure out the restraints and mitts. He hates the vent, hates being in bed, hates the restraints. I hate watching him move so slowly, sloth-like, trying in his semi-consciousness to problem-solve his restrictions. He is at risk for infection, at risk for spinal fluid leaks, at risk for the graft not taking. He needs to stay in bed, he needs to not fuss with the equipment, he needs to be still. He does not understand that. He just wants out.
We are in a bad way.
I’m trying my best.