It’s been a few days since my last update. There is a scene in the movie, Top Gun, when Maverick, played by Tom Cruise, freezes in a dogfight. He has just lost his co-pilot, Goose, and now he is losing control. He tries to catch his breath and calls out to his recently departed friend, “Talk to me, Goose.”
That was our Wednesday. They had changed Nikki’s pain and anti-nausea medications over the previous 36 hours. Once again, she wasn’t sleeping, she wasn’t eating and she wasn’t exercising. She was miserable. Her recovery efforts were frozen. She was in a dogfight. Nobody knew what to do, but we knew something needed to be done. She was scared and she needed help.
Nikki couldn’t afford any setbacks. They were controlling the pain at the expense of making her nauseous. Eventually, the doctors made the decision to return to a regimen similar to what had been working the prior few days. They had originally switched meds with a long term goal of removing all of the drain tubes, IV lines and oxygen tubes as soon as is reasonably possible.
Early Thursday morning, they made a few more modifications and she soon began to feel better. She was able to sleep. She started eating again. Well, she started eating pudding, anyway. In Top Gun, Maverick eventually re-engaged in his fight. Nikki did this on Thursday.
That afternoon, she was back in action. She’s did her best to keep the folks at Conagra in business by eating 5 vanilla Snack Packs that day. She had a revolving door of nutritionists, pulmonologists, surgeons, residents, med students, occupational therapists, physical therapists, edema specialists, social workers, respiratory therapists, maintenance techs, nurses, nurse’s aids, transport people, cleaners, lab techs and even a Davanni’s delivery driver. The last guy was looking for me, but Nikki still found time to sleep and do a few laps around the floor. This evening we had a friend bring up some food and he couldn’t believe that she had not turned on the television in the nearly two weeks she’s been here. With all of these people, there’s simply no time.
Friday was a better day as well. She even hit the PT Room for the first time. This is as close to a gym that you’ll find at the hospital. The 3 step station was her next exercise to check off the list. She surprised her therapist on this one too by pushing out 15 round trips up and down those 3 steps.
With all of the time spent in bed trying to figure out the nausea and pain in the last 10 days, her new lungs were starting to retain carbon dioxide. While this is common in transplant patients, it needed to be addressed. They wheeled in a BiPap machine on Friday afternoon. Remember, I’m not a doctor, so the best way for me to describe it is a pressurized mask that fits tightly around her nose and mouth. When she breathes in or out, the BiPap forces the lungs to take deeper breathes and fully exhale. This helps to expel the excess CO2. Though I don’t have any fighter pilot training either, this picture reminded me of the oxygen masks the Top Gun pilots wear.
The first technician who came in and tried to explain it, just shoved the mask on her face and it scared her. She felt like the suction could harm those pretty pink lungs. At 10 PM, another person took some more time with her and by 5 AM she was comfortable with the apparatus. We hope that the machine will help reduce those CO2 levels in a few days.
Saturday was more of the same. She wanted to see if she could possibly walk on the treadmill. The therapist was skeptical, but of course she surprised them again. The people who really know Nikki, know that she’ll attack her rehab.
In the movie, Maverick eventually re-engaged. Nikki has re-engaged on her mission of healing. But let’s continue to remember the donor family who has lost their co-pilot, their Goose. We’ll be keeping them in our thoughts and prayers in hopes they can get through their loss and re-engage in their lives.
On a side note, I would like to wish my buddy, the Regginator, good luck in the Madison Ironman event on Sunday. When his then 2 year old daughter was diagnosed with cancer a few years back, I don’t think he could spell Ironman. Their lives were turned upside down, and he made some drastic changes. We had a nice talk today about how blessed we are to have such amazing girls in our lives. Just a few hours from now, he’s going to begin his mission to swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles and then run a marathon! His daughter will be waiting for him at the finish line. She will be his “Goose” when he loses his direction and his mind wants to tell his body to quit. I know he will re-engage.



