Today was both good and bad.
Some of the good is that Steve got most of his tubes removed including his morphine drip. He got out of bed and walked the halls twice. The orthopedist came in and said he was progressing well and maybe if it continues, we can go home in a few days.
The bad is that while here and under the influence of morphine, he is personally unable to administer insulin from his pump. We are having to count carbs from his meals and enter them into the pump which will deliver the correct rate of insulin accordingly. This in and of itself is not bad. What is bad is that he is not hungry, therefore what little food he's eating does not allow us to give him any insulin from his pump, regardless of what we would normally do. Not eating and not getting insulin, we are slowly seeing his blood sugars creep up and that makes him nauseated. Which makes him not want to eat. See the pattern?
I stopped off at work today and was chatting with a co-worker about having my "breakdown". As of that time, I had remained strong and been able to control my emotions for Steve and Jenna's sake. But I told her I knew my time was coming and it was going to be a gusher when it came, but I was holding off right now.
Well. The time came this afternoon when I arrived back at the hospital from running some errands and picking JG up from camp. JG and I stopped at the cafeteria downstairs on our way up to get some lunch/dinner. When I arrived in the room, the endocrinologist was here (the one that was sent after I *fired* the internist yesterday). Apparently, while I was gone, they checked his blood sugar and it was a bit high, so he himself decided to give himself insulin. It wasn't alot, but it was enough that it kind of ticked off the doctor, so he told us that we could only allow the pump to deliver the continuous base rate and the nurses would do the rest. Well, I agree that would be best, but Steve didn't think so. Remember, he's on a LOT of pain medicine...so when I made me let ME put the pump back on him (rather than himself), he yelled at me that I was joining up with that doctor etc. Well, that was my breaking point. I left the room sobbing and ever since then, my emotions have been right at the surface.
I guess the main problem was that I had left the hospital earlier, and he was fine (albeit tired and in a little pain). When I came back, he was not himself at all. I did manage to gather myself and as the evening wore on, we found that his pump has come all undone, so no base rate was being delivered. His blood glucose level (BGL) was 388 (normal is in the low 100s), his heart rate was a little high and his temperature was 101.1. But once we figured out the pump was undone, I think we started figuring out what was going on.
My SIL made me leave and I'm home with Jenna ready to go to bed. SIL just called and said Steve was doing better. Fever was breaking. I even talked to him on the phone and he sounded way more coherent. Thank God he didn't have any visitors last night.
OK, more tomorrow.