The good news of the day is that, within minutes of Mary’s two chest tubes being removed, her heart rhythm suddenly converted from atrial fibrillation (afib). However, it converted to another form of arrhythmia — possibly atrial flutter, according to her nurse, although sinus tachycardia was also mentioned as a possibility at one point. But we’re generally pleased that, for now at least, the afib is gone. And with the help of medication (amiodarone) there is greater reason to believe that she’s going to end up back in good old sinus rhythm before long.
She continues to sit up and walk (with assistance), evidence more strength and better color, and her appetite is slowly returning (a half sandwich for lunch). She even asked for a book to read (one that she had brought along).
Mary’s surgeon today actually voiced the possibility of a discharge on Tuesday, although that’s still not certain, there’s criteria to meet, and any discharge would be contingent on no significant setbacks between now and then. Besides, we don’t wish to rush things. Going home will involve a host of other challenges. Mary will probably need daily help in some very practical ways (we’re not sure from whom yet), and if a major issue was to to develop, Monson is a long way from Bangor, especially this time of the year with snow and ice soon coming our way.
There have been some low moments. We are both more conscious than ever of our physical limitations and vulnerability to forces beyond our control. That usually also presents an opportunity for greater faith in the One who controls all things. So please pray with us for faith to pass such tests.
This is Sunday, so we had our own special devotional time together this morning, and later Vin Upham (the retired minister from NY who is my caregiver) briefly stopped by to pray with us and for us.
Thanks once again to you for your love and interest in our lives. I’m not able to personally reply to most comments or emails at this point, but I read them all and try to pass most all of them along to Mary.
Until next time.
Daryl E. Witmer