It's lookin' up!

So, first - Ida is quite a lot better. Lots of recovery to get through, but recover she will. We are still amazed, and so thankful for every little prayer and abstract hope family and friends have made for her.

She may be out of ICU today. The nurses had her walking around her bed, and she is sitting up. When Leah and I left at 1:30 p.m., she was getting ready to tuck into her first meal(ish) since last Friday. And they're taking some of the IV lines out now, too. The nurse said her job now is to recover. No complications thus far.

On the daycare front, we're making headway and are cautiously optimistic about a few options we've found. Whatever hoping you have left to throw our way - we'd appreciate it. It's so overwhelming, to deal with this episode, and to face the prospect of leaving Leah at a daycare. I know, I know, lots of people do it and they're fine, but when you didn't have to entertain the prospect at all and are suddenly thrown into this whirlwind in the week-and-a-half before you go back to work... Well. It's difficult.

So. Chin up and all that... Things might just be turning around.

Breathing a shallow sigh of relief

We had a good day today.

Ida's breathing tube is out and she's doing well without it. David spent the afternoon with her (my dad kept him company).

She asked how Leah is - most important question first! - and joked a little bit with the nurses. She was able to tell them if she is uncomfortable, and she realizes what happened - and that it's been a close call.

We might be able to leave the ICU behind tomorrow, or maybe Wednesday.

David's step was much lighter when he came in the door this evening. We're still cautiously optimistic, but so far, things are continuing on a positive note. We've made it through another day, and tomorrow's looking good too.

Thanks so much for the kind thoughts and prayers... Every one of them has helped tremendously.

ICU

We spent the weekend in the Civic ICU. We almost lost Dave's mom yesterday.

She was feeling nauseous on Friday night, late, and was sick in the night. And then she got more sick. Ida called us around 9:30 Saturday morning, and asked David to bring her some gingerale, to settle her stomach. We thought it was food poisoning, maybe.

David arrived to chaos. She was very sick, very weak and her speech was slurring. She didn't want to go to the hospital at first, but when she told David she couldn't breathe, he called the paramedics. They whisked her to the hospital. David tried to follow, but some DB blocked his way out of the driveway after the ambulance got out onto the street, so he was a bit delayed. Moron. Would you not think that a car coming from the same house as the ambulance just pulled out of, might have somewhere more important to go than where you're heading?

He got to the ER - thankfully only about three minutes away - and no one could tell him anything. He was worried that they didn't have her name, or her information, so after a few minutes - fifteen, twenty? - he found a nurse that helped. She took the info, and then brought him to a room where the doctor would come and see him.

I was at home with Leah, with no way to get to him... Thinking he'd only be gone a few minutes, he took the car with the carseat in it. I stayed on the phone with him as long as possible, until the surgeon finally arrived. And told him that the odds of his mother making it through surgery alone were slim, very slim. And that at some point, she'd not had a heartbeat, pulse or oxygen...

She's had an aneurism that caused the aorta in the abdominal cavity to burst.

Thankfully, our neighbours are very kind and have a baby... So Juliet gave us a lift to the hospital so we could wait it out with Dave. The ICU waiting room is an interesting place... Somewhere outside of reality, sort of, but where reality is very harsh at the same time. Forced jollity, constant chatter... Anything to break up the silence, that inevitably brings the thinkings and worryings. Leah was the most fabulous distraction, and she made the afternoon so much easier.

So we waited, and we chatted, and we played, and tried to buoy Dave through the hours. We bonded with a family there for their aunt. David's cousin Stephen came and spent time with us, because he knew David would need him. And we did, so much.

Ida pulled through the surgery, shocking her surgeons. She has a tenuous hold on life at the moment - seeing someone so vital and feisty with a heart monitor that involves a catheter (sort of like an epidural catheter), multiple IV lines, blood transfusions, breathing tube... The breathing tube is the worst. But if things continue as they are now, she will recover.

They brought her out of her induced coma this morning, just for a few minutes to check her response to stimuli. The nurse, Sarah, is very kind... Ida wasn't very happy with her this morning. She responded to requests to squeeze hands, wiggle toes, and made very purposeful movement to try and get that breathing tube out (a common response to the apparatus, apparently, and positive because there is clear intention behind the movement - which means brain damage may not be a factor). Her heart and kidneys are functioning. She is fighting through this. She has Leah to fight for - there's far too much Ida needs to see her do.

Ida lost a brother to this same factor. The surgeon advised David to be screened for this, as it can be hereditary. He's so worried, always, especially since losing his Dad when David was sixteen to a massive heart attack.

The shock settled in last night. We just can't believe it. I don't know how we're all going to get through this... We're surrounded by family and friends, and have had lots of prayers from the praying types and strong hopes for recovery from others. All we are able to do is live hour by hour, and be thankful that we've made it through another half day.