Things seemed to be stabilizing the past week, with little progress – no fever, still on 2L of O2, breathless upon sitting up. This lasted till yesterday, 14 Mar, 8.17pm, when my husband dashed out of the study to pass me my phone.
The doctor said dad passed out blood in his diapers four times in the afternoon, and his heart rate has risen to above 130 bpm. There’s a possibility that he’ll need to return to the ICU if his heart rate continues to be high and his blood pressure decreases. And yes, there’s also the possibility of dad being re-intubated.. and the whole process starts again…
As I listened to the doctor’s update, my palms turned cold and a sense of despair started to creep in. These co-existed with an increased resilience, after having gone through all that had happened the past few weeks. Yet the familiar feeling of dread, anxiety, helplessness started to return. God, are we going for a second round?
The doctor then mentioned that they will be adopting “active management” in case of life-threatening situations, and asked if we had the chance to talk with dad regarding this before. Active management meant that they are going to try to sustain dad’s life using drastic interventions if the situation calls for it, such as CPR. Unknown to many, according to the doctor, there is a high likelihood that patients can’t return to their normal living after active management because during those times, the blood doesn’t get to the brain and this causes neurological damage. Also, patients would likely not be able to breathe on their own thereafter, and would require long-term 24-hour nursing care.
Given that dad’s functional and cognitive status are fine, they would be adopting active management should the situation calls for it as dad “has a higher chance to return to his baseline”.
In response to the doctor’s question, I said, “Coincidentally, my dad and I talked about this on the very last day I saw him before the whole saga began – the second day of Chinese New Year. His response was inclined towards not receiving ‘active management’ if the prognosis is bad with poor quality of life… However, it was a very brief conversation. It would be good if you could help explain the possible scenarios to my dad and check with him his preference. I will then call him thereafter to ascertain as well.”
After putting down the phone, I turned to my husband, with tears rolling down my cheek. “Let’s pray,” I muttered. We prayed. My heart continues to hang on to the promise God gave – He will heal dad, completely.
I then texted some friends who have been praying for dad and our family since this whole series of events began.
I believe it was not a coincidence that a friend sent me this song at 6am yesterday morning, before the call from the doctor came in the night. It was a busy day yesterday and I was planning to listen to the song in the night, but the call from the doctor came first. The lyrics of the song Alive and Breathing:
Joy still comes in the morning Hope still walks with the hurting If you’re still alive and breathing Praise the Lord Don’t stop dancing and dreaming There’s still Good News worth repeating So lift your head and keep singing Praise the Lord Let everything praise the Lord In the working, in the waiting Praise the Lord In the blessing, in the breaking, Praise the Lord In the dying, in the rising Let it praise the Lord
Yes, I’ll continue to trust and to hope, in the uncertainty, in the waiting, I will continue to praise the Lord.
Then I saw an unread message that was sent at 8.06pm, 11 minutes before the doctor called. The message reads:
March 14 Remember the things you worried about that never happened Remember the needs you had that God provided Remember the nice things that took you by surprise Remember the difficult situations God used for good Remember the ways God showed you He hadn't forgotten you and remember He never will March 15 Isaiah 49:15 NASB Can a woman forget her nursing child, and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.
Yes, I remember how God had mercy on my dad, my mum, and my sis’ family; how God had provided all our needs in the recent past difficult weeks. God has been good and He is good. He is the faithful God Who never changes.
The song and the message above seemed to be God’s way of reassuring me that He has all things in control and I have no need for fear. He will do what He has promised to do. He will heal dad, in a way that puzzles the doctors.
One of my friends whom I texted for prayer earlier then shared two songs with me.
Heal Me, O Lord
I Am the God That Healeth Thee
“LORD, have mercy on dad,” I prayed.
At 10.04pm, dad called. The doctors have seen him. Dad said, “I’d rather have tracheostomy than intubation. Also, I do not want CPR but I want to rely on God totally. After all, I’ve already been here for 37 days. If I were meant to die, I’d have been long gone!”
I do not want CPR but I want to rely on God totally.
After putting down the phone, I thought to myself, “Dad’s demonstrating a lot of faith in God here. After having witnessed how God saved dad again and again the past few weeks, with the reassurance through the songs and messages above, why should I think otherwise?”
On a lighter note, I was impressed by Dad’s current level of clearheadedness. He wasn’t like this when my sis first sent him to the hospital for suspected pneumonia on that fateful day. Then, he couldn’t even unlock his own phone and told us his test result was negative when it was not even out yet. After almost a week of heavy sedation being intubated in ICU, he was still in a semi-confused state. But now, having been out of ICU for two weeks, he has caught up with his own condition as well as the state of the entire Covid-19 situation. He has been counting the days since he was admitted. I checked against the daily record that I’ve been keeping. Yes, yesterday was the 37th day of dad’s hospitalization. Dad, I salute you.
I was about to wash up and retire for the night when at 11.25pm, the doctor called again, saying the consultant decided to send dad for a CT scan of his abdomen to find out the cause and position of his bleeding. They’ll also be giving dad blood transfusion because of low blood count.
I updated dad via text what’s going to happen next, and told him to call me or text me anytime. I’m here, 24/7. I decided to wait for the results of the scan before updating my mum and sis. It is useless to cause them undue worry.
At 4.28am, dad sent an audio message saying he has just finished the CT scan and is now in ICU.
I updated mum and sis around 8 plus in the morning about dad’s latest development, leaving aside the talk about active management. Naturally, they were worried. Neither the doctors from the previous ward nor the ICU called.
At 2.40pm, I decided to give dad’s previous ward a call to inform them that we had not received any notification from the ward that my dad has been transferred to ICU early this morning. The nurse was very apologetic about it and said she would try to find out what happened, and that she would inform the ICU doctors to give us an update about dad.
At 3.21pm, a doctor from ICU called. “The patient is able to breathe on room air, and the last PR bleeding was 1pm today. The two CTMAs showed no active bleeding. . . . the blood transfusion occurred at 4.30am, 10.48am, and 1.30pm. His blood count was low, at 6. We need to make sure the blood count is at least above 7. We’ll be repeating the blood test again in four hours’ time.”
Although the cause of bleeding is unknown and the doctors couldn’t capture anything with the two CT mesenteric angiograms taken, and although dad is currently on his third bag of blood transfusion since the morning, my heart is still beaming with joy and hope – the hope that God will be turning things around real soon while the cause of the bleed may remain a mystery.
My heart leapt with joy when the nurse shared that dad has been off O2 support since 12 noon today and seems to be doing fine. Dad had been on O2 support for the past five weeks. Today, at 4pm, it has been four hours and his SpO2 is 100%.
What a turnaround!
(While the logical side of me says, “Don’t rejoice too early,” I choose to continue to hold fast to what I think God has promised.)
WEH PSALMS 