I will say this with the utmost conviction: Today has been a good day.
This morning Gavin was switched over once again from the conventional ventilator to CPAP settings. This means that he is still intubated but breathing on his own with the help of pressurized oxygen. This is similar to the support people with sleep apnea need. This is a huge step in the right direction, and our support team here are thrilled.
Of course, there remains the mystery of what is actually going on in Gavin’s lungs. We know that there is some sort of bleeding happening deep in the lungs. Last night the staff doctor ran a bronchoscope in again to have a look, and discovered nothing. Today all the teams met to discuss Gavin’s case, and to our great relief came to the conclusion that Entanercept is no longer in consideration. We were justifiably frightened about loading his system with an immune-suppressant when his own immune system is such a fledgling. Of course, we are being told that this might still be an option, but we are not considering it. We are instead choosing to focus on Gavin’s healing and his innate ability to get better.
My mental shift today has made me almost cheerful. I feel so certain of Gavin and know that he has rounded the corner.
Gavin is still heavily supported, and there is still the issue of bleeding in his lungs. The team made the wise decision to prop up his weakened immune system with twice daily platelet transfusions. I feel that this more than anything can kickstart his body into recovery mode and stop the bleeding once and for all.
The doctors put in a special request with blood services for Gavin to have these platelets. Under normal circumstances, they would not appreciate so many going to just one patient, when there are chronic shortages for all blood products. I, as a life-long wimp, have never once given blood. I have cited squeamishness and slight anemia as my reasons not to. Now I know the power of this gift. It is truly the gift of life.
Very soon, within the next couple of days, I plan on becoming a blood donor for the first time. In recognition of the many dozens of transfusions Gavin has received from these selfless strangers, I am also asking all of you to think about doing the same. You will never meet the person that your blood goes to, and will never know the impact it makes on them. Perhaps it will be a child with cancer, like Gavin, perhaps a young woman in childbirth, perhaps a grandfather in a horrible car accident. No matter what the circumstances, you can know that it means the difference between life and death.
Okay, Canadian Blood Services, I’ve done my bit for you today.
Gavin is sleeping peacefully, it will be a quiet night.