Yesterday worst ever. I give it an F. In fact, I might refuse to participate in March 9th ever again.


Honestly, the day is a blur, with more tests, no improvement, more weakening, much more phlegm coagulating. A tired Ian was losing interest in using his suction thing. His feeding tube finally got installed but then no food was administered. He had several xrays and whatnot.

He had another MRI; this one is the latest spiffy good picture kind. The surgeon ordered it. He checked in after looking over the results and said at this point (whereas he had been extremely tentative), since he wasn't happy with Ian's condition (worsening) and the picture made it seem like surgery might not necessitate much travel through healthy tissue, he was leaning toward surgery. Shock and nausea - the surgery is not a pretty picture. Very risky. Then again, it's forward motion ... and so far we're rolling backward.
 
Move on a bit later (timeline fuzzy, but evening ish): his breath was shallow and the phlegm interfered.  He was getting more lethargic.  The breathing specialist came up and said he had to get his oxygen levels up or he was headed elsewhere to get that done.  They did some big suction - through the nose and all that.  That helped allow him to breathe but his body was still not doing what they wanted.  His BP was up and his O2 was down.  They did the 100% oxygen to no avail.  They cleared us out of the hall and pushed the button: they "coded" him.  The cart and the mass of people came.  They wheeled him to ICU.  They did a different mask, worked on his BP ... not much of a change.  He started to become delirious.  He wanted to see me, but when I got there he asked where we met, and had much confusion in his eyes.  He became rather belligerent about pulling his mask off, moving around on his bed like a drunk person. 
 
Again, time line fuzzy, but the ICU part is middle of the night stuff.  Then they ended up putting in the breathing tube, sedating him, restraining him (he's very strong; when I was there, his hands were tied down but he was using his good leg to kick us).
 
After the tube and the sedation, he had rest.  He hasn't had it mostly since we got here, so it was welcome to see, even though it means his face is barely visible under all the tubes and tape and wires. 
 
He is now getting an angiogram; more clear pictures.  We are expecting to hear from the doctor within a few hours, and I expect that he will tell us he plans to go ahead with surgery Saturday.
 
What this means, quite bluntly: He could not improve, he could have new symptoms, he could pass away from surgery.  He could RECOVER.  These symptoms could dissipate and disappear. 
 
We're circling the wagons.  Family headed into town from out.  I've done the all-day waiting for brain surgery thing before, but this one carries much more trepidation.  The kids haven't seen Ian since Sunday.  I haven't seen MY IAN since Sunday, either.  Our last sort-of conversation was a fight about how he wasn't allowed to not breathe, so he had to listen to what the specialists had to say.  At that point, though, the oxygen deprivation or more brain trouble was causing him confusion and ...
 
So now we're here, waiting.  That's about all I can say right now.  Except, naturally: pray.  The next two days ... then Saturday ... all powerless, except for prayer.  Dr. Wecht's hands, the surgical team. To God be the Glory; great things He has done and continues to do in our lives.