This is our's crazy, it's hectic, but most of all it's fun!

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Part nine: While on the floor

We welcomed our new "home" with open arms. I guess we were so relieved to be out of the CCU because it only meant that we were getting better and were one step closer to going home. I was so happy that now I would be able to sleep in the same room as Ryan. I had a pretty sweet setup involving a 5'4" couch/cushion to sleep on. Thank goodness I'm 5'3".

As I was settling in our new room I slipped into the bathroom and did my thing. When I came out, Ryan had a grin and said, I haven't heard that in a long time. A toilet flush. One thing most of us take for granted. I guess I never thought of all those little necessities that Ryan missed out on. Wait. Yes, I did. Ryan had the typical hospital smell. I hated it. I still do. I would constantly tell him I couldn't wait until we were home and we could wash all of that off of him. It was a painful reminder of all those days I spent next to him while he lay there lifeless. It was the reminder that my husband, while right next to me, was still so far away. I even confessed to him that every time I left him I kissed him, but it wasn't without holding my breath.
Nonetheless, while on the floor Ryan was expected to be very independent. He was to do things on his own and he would occasionally see a nurse, mostly to give medicine. Otherwise we would see LPNs, aides, and housekeepers. I will spare you the details of the floor nurses, but lets just say that there is a vast difference in CCU nurses and floor nurses.
Independence for Ryan meant work for me. When you are 32 and 28 you never expect to be a "caretaker" for your significant other. Ryan and I took our relationship to an entirely new level. Simply put, I took care of my husband.
When we said I do, I vowed before God, my family, and friends to be there in sickness and health  and for better or worse. I did the unthinkable of cleaning up after my husband when he used the bathroom and bathed him from head to toe in the shower. He often apologized for not being able to do anything for himself and requiring so much assistance. I told him, this is my job Ryan. This is what I signed up for. And it was. Granted, you don't expect to do these things so young. When we are elderly sure. At our age now you have so much pride. You don't want to be helpless and have your spouse doing the unthinkable. What we did learn is that I could never be a dental hygienist. Ryan asked me one night to floss his teeth. No big deal, I mean I had already done all the potty business with him, how bad could helping with his dental stuff be. I nearly threw up. I finished, but it wasn't before asking Ryan to never, ever, under any circumstance to ask me to do that for him again. And I don't think he ever will. He say how much it physically hurt me. The point here is I could have turned away from my husband. Had the nurses who are paid to do this stuff help him, but I didn't. Ryan is my responsibility. I want him to always trust me and to know that I am always there for him, yucky teeth and all.
Nothing major happened while on the floor. We were there for one week and one day and all we saw Ryan do was get better. Two new doctors were brought in, the surgeon and the endocrinologist. They would be the ones handling the removal of the mass.
I was more comfortable going and seeing the kids every few days so it was nice feeling so "able".

Our kids came back to visit that Saturday again and they were much more comfortable being around Ryan. The loved on him and enjoyed playing with his bed. They only folded him up a couple times!

Ryan quickly began to look like his old self. His voice was slowly getting back to normal. He had dialysis every other day because they were still waiting for his kidney function to improve. His creatinine level were improving, but dialysis was still needed that often. We just prayed and prayed for his kidneys to pick up. He was producing urine, but the filtering just wasn't happening.

Before we knew it, they said that we would be moving to rehab. Our time in room 920 quickly came to an end.
In the early morning of August 6, we were up and ready to be moved to BRI (Baptist Rehabilitation Institute) by 6:00am. We were so ready. We knew that our next step after this was home and it was looking better every day.
Ryan was ready. We had been told that they were definitely going to push Ryan over there. Makes sense considering their main goal is to get you out of there.

On our way to the last chapter of our hospital stay!

We got to BRI and were welcomed by a big, private room. We were lucky enough to get a private room where I would be able to have my own hospital bed to stay in.
I know this part of our story is what you could call uneventful. Ryan's body was healing. We had nothing but good days. Ryan had a lot of visitors to pass the time and we are so thankful  for everyone who came and spent time with him and brought him food.
It's wild to me that we are so close to the end of the story already. Well, the end of  "the story". Ryan's story and the impact he had on people is what's still his story today. That's the fun part I can't wait to share.

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