Sean Brennan's Portal Page

Rachel LAST update (by Rachel)

December 28, 2009

My dear friends,

As promised, here at last is the final entry of the mega-saga-blog of Rachel’s journey to

near-death and back! I’m sorry if some of you have been waiting for this for too long,

but it’s taken me a while to get it all together (physically and mentally) and figure out

what I wanted to say.

As you will see below, I did write several entries over the summer, but everything I wrote

seemed to rehash the past, and I wasn’t sure that anyone would want to read about THAT

again!  I really wanted to end on a very positive note, like to report that all the doctors

had released me and that I was officially “cured”! Unfortunately, that STILL has not

happened. But the year is ending, and I continue to receive the occasional worried email

or phone call inquiring about my health. It is so sweet that many of you have continued

to keep me in your thoughts all this time. It sounds corny, but it still makes me cry just

thinking about the outpouring of love that I felt during my recovery. It was truly

overwhelming! So, please know that I am really OK now, and that your thoughts,

prayers, messages, and phone calls meant SO much to me, and continue to give me

inspiration for the future.

First, let me start by saying that I am doing really, really well now, and have returned to

living a normal life. It has been 10 long months since the whole mess happened, and in

some ways it seems like a lifetime ago. I wish I could say that I felt like it never

happened, but the memory of the hospital and the intense fear that I felt is still very fresh

in my mind. Although the scars on my body are fading (yay!), I still have a few sore

spots in my lungs that remind me daily to be thankful for every moment. Every night as I

fall asleep I give thanks that I have lived another day, and every morning when I wake up

I feel so happy to see my family around me. Again, it’s corny and cliché, but life really is

sweeter now. I don’t feel the restlessness that I used to, and I’m quite happy just to be

alive!

Here’s our Christmas photo for this year, so you can see that we are all healthy again!

(You can see that Coral’s going through an “I’m not sure how to smile in front of the

camera” phase, and that Ethan is still our sweet little snuggly guy!)

If that’s enough for you, you can close this link now and surf away! But if you still want

to read on, you will see a timeline of the important milestones that happened during my

recovery. Also included are some of my memories of the whole near-death experience,

the struggles of recovery, and the mental challenges of returning to a normal life. I

conclude with some of the bizarre experiences (good and bad) that I had in the hospital.

Please be warned that not all of what you about to read is “happiness and rainbows”.

Sean’s blog, while an excellent and accurate account of events, also painted me to be a

very sweet person, which is not at all how I felt during the ordeal. I was frustrated,

angry, incredibly uncomfortable, and deeply frightened. My memories of the experience

are therefore mostly negative. It was the most terrifying, horrible, nasty experience I’ve

ever had. I don’t want to ever, ever, ever repeat what happened in February. Ever.

As terrible as it was, however, I am constantly reminded that I owe my life to the doctors

and nurses who got me through. I am so grateful for the excellent care that they gave me,

and I could never even come close to thanking them enough for everything they did. At

the same time, the unwavering and unconditional love I felt from my husband was

incredible and overwhelming in and of itself (don’t ask me how I was lucky enough to

catch him!). Sean was absolutely amazing through everything. He was always by my

side, loving and attentive, while rapidly learning the science of medicine so that he could

communicate with the doctors and safeguard my health, and at the same time still

attempting to be a strong father to our two small children. His mom, Barb, was also a

godsend through this whole thing, and was the glue that kept our family together. She

dropped everything in her life to take care of us and our kids for over a month. Without

her, Sean wouldn’t have been able to spend as much time with me in the hospital, and I

probably wouldn’t have recovered as quickly as I did. It gave me such comfort to know

that she was taking care of our kids and giving some comfort to Sean when he managed

to straggle home. So, I hope that you can understand that it’s a wild and complicated set

of emotions that I felt (and still feel) about the whole mess. Please keep that in mind as

you read my entries…

So, if you are sufficiently prepared, here we go!

Recovery timeline (keep in mind this is mostly just a list of dates & major events

– the juicy hospital stuff comes later):

March 19, 2009 – Sean’s last blog entry, 5 days after I had returned from the

hospital.

March 20, 2009 – Barb goes back to New Mexico, after taking care of us for 5

weeks!!! Thanks SOOOOO much for everything, Barb!!!

March 27, 2009 – Starting to wean off oxygen during the day. I still need it

when I’m exercising, going up and down stairs, and showering though.

March 31, 2009 – Discharged from physical therapy! The therapist took me

for a walk around the block (with my portable oxygen tank), and then as we got

back to my driveway, he said, “Well, there’s not much more that I can do for you

now.” J

April 5, 2009 – I walked all the way to the playground (with Sean carrying my

oxygen tank), which is about 2 blocks away and up a small hill. Even though I

just sat on a bench and watched, the kids were SOOOO excited to have mommy

there with them. Other than feeling a bit self conscious with everyone gawking at

me, I really enjoyed it.

April 14, 2009 – First dinner out with the family (Outback Steak House).

Walking to our booth, I teared up, because it was so sweet to see my husband and

our kids being happy and normal again. It was surreal to me, like I shouldn’t be

seeing out of my eyes anymore. I was also paranoid the whole time that my

oxygen levels would drop and that I would need to use my oxygen tank in the

restaurant, but I didn’t need to!

April 15, 2009 – Out to lunch with grad students at Champs. They had to

come pick me up, because I was still on low-level narcotics for pain and couldn’t

drive. It was so great seeing them again!

April 23, 2009 – Discharged from home health care (3 weeks early)! Around

this time I stopped using oxygen at night, too.

May 4, 2009 – No more pain meds! It was a long process weaning myself off of

oxycodone. Even though I was on the lowest dosage, I could tell it was affecting

my balance and my appetite, so I tried to get off of it earlier in March, but I was

having too much pain. So, I started weaning again on April 21, slowly increasing

the time between doses until finally, after a 30 hour interval from May 3 to May

4, I took my last dose. Before the last dose I was still very achy and

uncomfortable (kind of like I had fallen out of a truck onto hard pavement), but I

figured this was just how my body feels now. When I curled up on the floor into

a fetal position complaining about how I felt, Sean started laughing and told me

that I was clearly having withdrawal. He said, “This is it, ok? You HAVE to get

off these things!” And he was right: two days later I felt great! All my body

aches and irritability were gone. Even at low dosages, narcotics are very

powerful (and dangerous) things!!!

May 8, 2009 – First time driving on my own again! First I met Sean for an

appointment with my family doctor, who cleared me to return to work for a

maximum of 4 hrs/day, with the number of days per week to be determined by

how well I’m feeling. So that was great news! Then we went to Gamble Mill (a

VERY nice local restaurant) for lunch and then stopped at a few shops before

going to Ethan’s Mother’s Day celebration at his preschool. This was my first

time back at his preschool, and it was nice because I got to say hi to all the

teachers and parents. I held it together pretty well until Ethan’s teacher said, “It’s

so good to see you here again!” I guess it was the way she said “here”, because I

started crying. There was a time in the hospital when I thought I’d never see that

place again. Needless to say, that night I was really, really tired from my 6 hours

of adventures around town.

May 10, 2009 – Mother’s Day Hike! Ever since Coral was 1 ½, we’ve gone on

hikes for every Mother’s Day and Father’s Day; it’s a family tradition. This year,

Sean asked me what I want to do for the day. Go out to eat? Go see a movie?

None of these things seemed right to me, but I couldn’t remember what we used

to do (a weird side-effect of the near-death experience: I have difficulty initially

recalling some things that happened before I was sick). I asked Sean what is it

that we always do? And then I remembered: we HIKE. I got sad, because I

wasn’t sure if I could do it (and Sean intentionally did not bring it up for that

reason). But when he saw how sad I was, he said, “Let’s try it!” So, we decided

to go on a very flat trail that follows a river through the forest, and planned that if

I got tired after only 30 feet, then we’d just stop and have a little picnic! So, we

packed up the car and went. Amazingly, I was able to walk at a normal, kid-pace

for ~50 minutes!!! I was so happy! To be back in nature again, after being in the

confines of a hospital and my house for so long, was unbelievably refreshing and

uplifting. The forest and the river were so beautiful, as was my family around me.

I just tried to soak it all in. Here’s a picture that Sean took of me and the kids to

prove to everyone that I was actually alive and starting to return to my former self

(two months after being discharged from the hospital):

May 11, 2009 – First day back at work (part time), armed with my handheld

oxygen monitor! The doctors specifically told me wait until after the semester

ended to return to campus so that I wouldn’t be exposed to as many people/germs.

I had to stop three times on the walk from my car to my office because my

oxygen levels kept dropping. My prescribed 4 hours of work was whittled away

to just 1 ½ hours after being stopped by EVERYONE who saw me. I later told

one of my friends that I felt like the departmental mascot. Like a little lost puppy

dog, everyone stopped and “awww”ed at me. People who I didn’t even think

particularly liked me gave me these HUGE, absolutely genuine hugs. It was so

sweet and so weird at the same time! I feel so lucky to work with such a nice

group of people!

I was still pretty fragile, though, and my oxygen monitor was constantly with me.

I found that I had to take frequent deep breathing breaks (even just sitting at my

desk!) to bring my oxygen levels back above 94%.

Going back to work was hard not only because it was physically challenging, but

also because it was emotionally draining. In my job, everything is done with long

term vision (write a proposal to secure future funding, do research to get future

results, write a paper for future publication, etc.). But it’s really hard to plan for

the future and be upbeat and optimistic when you’re worried that you may not

even be alive tomorrow. I tried to push those thoughts out of my head, but every

day I felt like I was living on borrowed time. It was really hard, and I went

through a period of feeling pretty scared and depressed.

May 23, 2009 – Ethan’s robot birthday party at our house! With a house full

of 20 preschoolers and their parents, it was challenging, but Ethan was so happy

that it was worth it. Afterwards, I was really, really tired, though.

June 3, 2009 – Stopped taking iron supplements. For the last month or so, my

hair has been falling out in mass quantities. I felt like a chemo patient. Every

morning, hair was all over my pillow, and when I showered, it was like small

animals were falling out of my head. I was losing so much hair, my scalp showed

through in some places. I started researching all the vitamins I was taking, and

found that although hair loss can be a sign of anemia (which I had in the hospital),

too much iron can also cause hair loss! So, I did some calculations and

determined that I was taking 240 mg Fe per day, when a Centrum vitamin

contains only 18 mg Fe (that’s 13X less than what I was taking!). So, I performed

a little experiment on myself (which really worried Sean) where I reduced my

iron intake by half, and observed that my hair loss actually slowed a little bit. So,

I called my family doctor, explained what was going on, and asked the nurse to

check the results of my blood work that was done in May. She checked with the

doctor and called back to tell me to stop taking the iron immediately. It would

have been nice if they had caught this before I was almost bald! Like I said in one

of the entries below, you really have to be vigilant with your own health care!

After I stopped taking the iron, my appetite went through the roof! I finally

started gaining my weight back after this point.

June 4, 2009 – My dad arrives from New Zealand! Sean had cancelled all his

travel while I was sick, but since he’s going up for tenure this fall, it’s important

that he maintains some minimum visibility at conferences. So, my dad came to

stay with us for 10 days so that Sean could go to back-to-back conferences in

Detroit and St. Louis. I was feeling pretty strong at this point, but it was still great

having him around to help with the kids and with cooking, etc. Thanks Dad!

June 25, 2009 – The oxygen generator and back-up oxygen tanks are finally

removed from our house!!! Even though I was off of oxygen completely by the

end of April, I wanted to hold on to the generator and tanks for a while, just in

case my condition worsened. Then at the end of May, when I was feeling pretty

stable, I requested that everything be picked up, only it wasn’t that easy. The

rental company had to get an order from my pulmonologist to conduct a nighttime

oxygen assessment, but the batteries on their oxygen meter went dead during the

night, and I had to repeat it. And then they had to process the results, send them

to my pulmonologist, and await his approval, and then schedule the pickup. But

finally they took everything away! I was overjoyed, but Sean became strangely

grumpy about the whole thing. I realized later that he was just worried about me,

and this lack of oxygen in the house made him nervous.

July 4, 2009 – First day back at the gym (Jazzercise 1X/week: combination of

aerobics & strength training). I took it really, really easy, and was still amazed at

how difficult things were. I kept having to force myself to inhale. After drinking

water (and I’m sorry this is gross), I would have to swallow repeatedly to get all

the mucus to clear out of my throat. My pulmonologist later explained that this

was just one of the stages of recovery from pneumonia, when your lungs are

basically “cleaning house”. It lasted for about 2 months, every time I exercised.

July 6, 2009 – My mom comes out for her second visit. This time we’re able to

actually go out and do a few fun things, like walk around the Arts Festival a little

bit and go to a bunch of restaurants. Thanks Mom!

August 14, 2009 – Drive to Outer Banks, NC, for a vacation with Sean’s

family! When we got the bill for my hospital stay ($387k), we thought we were

going to have to sell our house. But when we got the news that the insurance paid

for all but $100, we got so excited that we decided to fly all of Sean’s New

Mexico family out to the beach for a vacation! We all stayed in a huge house

right on the beach for a week. It was awesome, and one of the best vacations

we’ve ever had!

Aug. 24, 2009 – CAT scan of lungs (without contrast = less radiation).

Aug. 25, 2009 – First day back in the classroom! I was excited and strangely

nervous. I didn’t want to mention my illness to the class, but a few of the students

had been in my class last semester, so I mentioned it in the context of Penn State’s

policy on H1N1: “If you get sick, I don’t want to see you. Stay home until you’re

better.” Then a bit jokingly, “Really, I mean it!” After class, some of the students

stuck around to chat with me, and several of them told me that they thought I

looked like just I did before any of this happened. So that was nice!

But the start of the semester hit me a bit harder than I was expecting. I guess I

wasn’t quite prepared for the physical and emotional strain of working full time

around a bunch of people constantly asking about my condition. I was really tired

for the first month or so, and slept ~10 hours every night just to have enough

energy to make it through the day. I was really zonked.

Sept. 14, 2009 – Pulmonary function test

This is basically a lot of breathing into a machine for an hour, with and without

the effects of albuterol (an inhaler). After using the inhaler, I did feel some

increase in my lung capacity, which I really wasn’t expecting at this point,

because with all my exercising I thought my lungs were really better now.

Sept. 24, 2009 – Increase exercise to 2X/week. I really started feeling stronger

after this point.

Dec. 3, 2009 – Follow-up with family doctor

Got the H1N1 shot (despite my age, I was still on the priority list due to my

medical history). For the first time, the doctor wrote “pneumonia resolved” in

my chart and did NOT request a follow-up! J

Dec. 7, 2009 – Follow-up with pulmonologist.

He went over the results from my lung function test that I took in September and

the CAT scan that I had in August. My lung function test came back really good

– I even exceeded the standard for lung capacity for average people my age!

My CAT scan images looked almost entirely clear. There was just a very slight

haziness in one section of the lung, which he was reluctant to even call scarring.

At that point I started to become hopeful that he was going to completely release

me for good, but then he pointed out several “nodules” in my lungs – small little

round areas of scaring. Two are obviously where the chest tubes hit my lungs in

my lower back, but 2 or 3 others are scattered, mostly in the front of the lungs.

He said that for someone like me with no other risk factors, these nodules will

probably remain innocuous. But, in some rare cases they can become malignant,

so he wants to scan them once a year for the next two years. If they go away or

remain the same, then he will release me. If not…. then it’s a whole new battle.

L

Dec. 21, 2009 – Sean is diagnosed with strep throat. Although I was only feeling

a bit under the weather (and was not even at the appointment!) the doctor

prescribed antibiotics for me, too, “just in case”. I was irritated that they didn’t

even want to examine me, but Sean insisted that I take them, so I did. As he put

it, we continuously put all of our livestock in this country on antibiotics, so what’s

the harm in putting someone with my “history” on them as a preventative measure

for just a week? It still bugs me, but I guess I see his point. I’d much rather be

cautious than possibly end up back where I was (or worse!), but I just don’t like

being treated like I’m so fragile. This is humorous to some of you, I know.

(Sean’s comment: They worked and she felt much better after about 3 days.)

Dec. 25, 2009 – First Christmas in PA. Early on, the doctors had said that it

would be best for me not to fly at all for the rest of the year, just to avoid picking

up germs in airplanes, etc. (Apparently my immune system will not be fully

recovered for 9 – 12 months after the event.) So, to play it safe, we decided to

stay in PA for Christmas, rather than going home to New Mexico like we’ve done

every year since 1997! At first, we were all happy about getting to stay home,

especially Coral who said, “Maybe Santa never visits us because we’re never

home for Christmas!” Ouch! So, Sean and I were happily planning a great

Christmas with just us and the kiddos, but then as it got closer we both got a little

depressed. We miss our family and the southwest so much! But the kid’s

happiness on Christmas morning was unbelievable, so that made it all worth it.

Dec. 29, 2009 – Finish the blog!!! J

….

Here’s some older entries that I wrote over the summer:

April 23, 2009

I got released from home health care today, three weeks ahead of schedule! Now it’s

just periodic doctors’ visits until I’m really better.

When will that be? Well, I finally got in to see the pulmonologist last week, and he

showed us my most recent chest x-rays on the computer (everything’s digitized here, it’s

awesome!). We could see that there’s still some fluid at the bottom of my lungs, and my

left-lung still looks pretty cloudy (i.e., full of inflammation). Sean was anxious to know

the time-line for my recovery, but the doctor said that it’s still too early to say for sure.

Typically with cases as bad as mine, it’s at least 6 – 12 months for full recovery. But he

seemed very happy with my progress so far, and rattled off this long list of scary-

sounding things that he said I’m very lucky I didn’t have happen to me! He doesn’t even

want to check my lung capacity or run any more tests until I’m more fully recovered. At

that time, he’ll do a full evaluation, and even check if I have any baseline asthma or

allergies. These are things that I never thought I had growing up in the desert of New

Mexico. But my mom reminded me that when I was a baby and we lived on the coast of

southern California, my breathing always sounded congested and raspy. When we

moved to New Mexico, it all cleared up. But ever since we’ve lived in Pennsylvania

(almost 6 years now), I feel like I’ve been almost continuously sick with some kind of

upper respiratory thing. I thought it was just one of the joys of having young kids and a

stressful job, but now I’m wondering if there’s more to it.

…

Which brings me to my first comment on extraordinary things that might shed some light

on my whole illness (and this is something I think everyone should be careful of in their

own lives)…

When I was in the hospital, everyone kept asking me where I got it. How did I get sick?

Was I sick a long time before I went to the hospital? “I don’t know. I don’t know. No.” I

always said. I thought I had only had a bad cold for a couple weeks leading up to the

now infamous February 14. But after I got home and had some time to think about

things, I realized I had actually been sick for quite some time. I remember being sick

back in December. In fact, I remember coughing so hard during my class’ final

presentations, that one of the students jokingly said, “You’re going to lose a lung!”

Haha. But the semester was almost over, and I knew I’d be able to rest up over

Christmas vacation. But I didn’t feel better. In fact, I went to the doctor during our visit

to New Mexico, and I felt so bad that I laid down in the waiting room (something I never

do). When the doctor finally got to me, she looked at me, felt my neck, listened to my

lungs, and said everything seemed fine, it was probably just a virus. Then she stepped

back and asked,

“Do you think you need antibiotics?”

What a strange question. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think I need something. I feel

terrible.” And it’s true, I never go to the doctor unless I’m really sick.

But she proceeded to talk me out of it, and sent me home with nothing but an order to get

lots of rest and drink plenty of fluids. My fever did finally subside, and I started feeling a

little better, but my cough never quite went away, and it got worse when we got back to

Pennsylvania in January. By the beginning of February my fever was back (off and on),

and my cough was almost irritatingly continuous.

Then, on Friday, February 13 (the day before I was admitted to the hospital with full

pneumonia), I had to stay home with Ethan because his preschool was closed. We were

running errands around town, and I had some extra time, so I made an appointment to see

the doctor, because I wasn’t kicking this cough. Once again, he looked at me, felt my

neck, listened to my lungs, and said everything seemed fine, it was probably just a virus.

I guess he could tell I looked irritated, because he went ahead and wrote a prescription for

antibiotics, but told me not to fill it unless I felt worse over the weekend. Haha.

So, I left, and took Ethan to do some last minute shopping for Sean’s birthday (which was

on the infamous 14th). After we got home, I put Ethan down for his nap, and I laid down

on the couch (again, something I hardly ever do). When Ethan came downstairs two

hours later, I felt so bad I didn’t want to move. I asked him to just play quietly so

Mommy could rest a little bit more. A few hours passed in a haze, and when Sean got

home I asked him to fill the prescription. “Now?” he asked, somewhat miffed since he

had just walked in the door. “Yes, please. I feel terrible.”

When he got back home the second time, I took one pill and went to bed without eating

dinner. I tossed and turned, and started throwing up a few hours later. My fever climbed

to 105 oF, despite taking ibuprofen. I could feel myself getting dangerously dehydrated

(something I was hospitalized for once as an undergrad back in New Mexico after food

poisoning), so I kept trying to drink water and eat a few crackers. But my mouth was so

dry, I could barely swallow.

When morning finally came, Sean and the kids let me sleep in (I could tell they were

doing “secret” Valentine’s preparations). But when Sean came to check on me an hour or

so later, he knew something was wrong. He gave me two more ibuprofen, and said if my

fever didn’t come down in 30 minutes, we were going to the hospital. After only 20

minutes, I stumbled weakly out of bed and called him from the top of the stairs. “Let’s

go now,” my voice creaked. I took off my wedding ring and put it on the dresser. I knew

something was really wrong and that I was going to be admitted. I was so weak and

dizzy, Sean had to help me down the stairs and put on my shoes.

Sean started bundling up the kids to take them with us. He knew things were bad, but he

didn’t realize how bad. “No,” I said. “Take them across the street to Mike’s.” Half an

hour later we were at the hospital and you already know the rest.

So, the point of all this is, after relaying this chain of events to the doctors, they now

think I may have had walking pneumonia since December. But since nobody caught it

and they told me it was just a virus, I continued to push forward, even though I felt so

bad. Then, when I caught the strep (we still don’t know from where – probably from one

of the kids), it just went nuts in my already weakened body.

The moral of the story is: if you feel really bad, demand that the doctors look

further. I will never be complacent in a doctor’s office again! (I also want to note that I

have since read that pneumonia is often very difficult to diagnose, so I really can’t

“blame” anyone for not finding it earlier. In fact, when I was first admitted to our local

hospital, the doctor ordered some routine blood work, and when he saw that my white

blood cell count was almost zero, he started hypothesizing that maybe I had leukemia

or AIDS. It wasn’t until three hours later when my oxygen levels started dropping that

they finally decided to do a chest X-ray. When it came back, and they saw that my lungs

were almost completely filled with pneumonia, the doctors and nurses went into hyper-

speed. They pushed my bed into the brightly lit ambulance prep-room and one of the

doctors quickly said, “We’re going to give you some medicine to fall asleep so that we

can put you on a ventilator to help you breathe, ok?” But it wasn’t really a question,

because right as he was asking it, the anesthesiologist was injecting the paralysis

medicine into my IV. It was crazy how suddenly everyone realized I was really ill, and

they just couldn’t move fast enough, when an hour earlier it seemed like they had all the

time in the world to figure things out.) The point of this whole story is that you have to

insist on care if you know something is not right with your body. For months I had

trusted the doctors’ assessments that I just had a virus, when I should have continued to

complain that I really didn’t feel right. The difficult thing I realized though, is that

feeling really sick doesn’t feel that much different from feeling almost dead!

The doctor that admitted me here in State College and transferred me to Geisinger

actually called me a few weeks ago to follow-up and see what happened with me. When

I told him that I had pneumonia with Strep A septic shock, he was shocked. “Are you all

in one piece?” he asked.

What a strange question. “Uh, yeah…” I said. “What do you mean?”

“You are so lucky! Most people that get Strep A like that end up getting something

amputated.” Apparently Strep A releases all these toxic proteins that rapidly destroy

living tissue. “It’s a flesh eating bacteria,” he told me. “It replicates every 20 minutes.”

When I told him that they found the bacteria in my blood stream but it was dead, and that

it was found with residual antibiotics from the night before, he said, “You are so lucky.

That one pill probably saved you.”

Wow. It’s hard to believe that things got so bad so quickly, and that they could have

been much, much worse. I’ve been trying to piece the timeline together since I got home,

since I don’t have any memory of things when they were really bad. It turns out it was

only 16 hours from the time I checked into the hospital on February 14, to the time the

resident doctor at Geisinger called Sean to tell him to come say good-bye to me. I know

this because Vonage nicely left a copy of that doctor’s voicemail in my email account, so

I have the time stamp. What a nice thing to come home to! When I heard the message, I

felt sick to my stomach. I listened to it again and again, trying to gauge from the doctor’s

voice what he was thinking. He was all so professional. Like a vet calling to tell you that

your pet it ready to be picked up. I guess that is how doctors learn to cope with all the

emotional side of patients and family on the edge….

…

But here I am, writing this blog. For a normally intensely private person, this is a big

deal. But after everything I’ve been through, it seems like a relief to be able to share it.

Even if it only helps one person to seek (and pursue!) medical attention when they need

it, it will be worth it.

A lot of people have asked to hear my new “take on life”, my new “perspective”, after

everything that has happened. In other words, they want to hear what the near-death

experience left me with. What is my new philosophy on life? Well, I don’t know that I

have that yet. It’s not like I remember almost dying. I was in a medically-induced coma.

When I woke up, I felt like I had only been asleep for a few days. The first thing I

remember in the darkness was Sean screaming my name, and me seeing his worried face

for a fraction of a second in front of my eyes. But then everything quickly went black

again. Then I remember voices. Apparently my brain perked up when Sean was talking,

because I have memories of certain conversations he had with different nurses when I

was starting to come out of it. I remember him holding my hand. I remember trying to

look around my room at night and seeing all these indistinct shapes of equipment all

around me. And then when I was finally really awake, I remember being mentally all

there, just tired. I hated the tubes in my mouth. I hated the gunk they put in my eyes that

made everything blurry. I felt so hungry. Really really hungry. I was worried about the

kids. I was worried about Sean. I was worried about Barb. I was worried about my

students. I wasn’t really worried about myself until Sean read part of the blog to me and

told me that I almost died. He waited to do this until after I was transferred out of the

ICU, when he thought my condition was relatively safe. But then, a few days later, when

I started relapsing, I finally started worrying about myself. When they put the second

chest-tube in my right lung, and I felt the LITERS of warm fluid gush from my body, I

got worried. After that, when they sat me up and I still couldn’t breathe, and they bagged

my face, I got scared. When they rushed me back to the ICU and told me that what they

were doing wasn’t working and that they were going to put me under again, I got really,

incredibly scared. I thought this might be it. I might never wake up again. Tears filled

my eyes and I asked if they could take the bag off my face so I could talk to Sean. They

reluctantly agreed, and told me it would only be for a moment. I reached for his hand and

told him that I loved him. Then I looked hard at the two doctors bending over me and

thanked them again and again. I felt like they were holding my life in their hands, and

everyone there seemed to know it, too. They tried to smile reassuringly at me, but the

worry in their eyes was unmistakable. After only a few seconds, they bagged me again,

and I heard a voice behind me asking for confirmation from the doctors of the volume of

anesthesia before they injected it into my IV. I saw Sean leave the room. And then

everything went black.

When I woke up this time, I could tell only a short amount of time had passed. For one

thing, I was in the same room, and I could still see (so I hadn’t been under long enough

for them to put that junk in my eyes). Another comforting thing was that I had the same

nurse that was there when they put me under, and she was still in my room busily doing

things around me. I was relieved when I looked up at the clock and saw that it was only

2am (they had put me under at ~8pm). I started to become a little nervous when I

realized that the tubes were in my mouth again. I was still relatively calm from the

anesthesia, but that quickly wore off. By the morning, I was feeling panicky. I couldn’t

keep my breathing steady. I couldn’t feel the ventilator. I didn’t know when to breathe

in and out. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate. I asked for something to help me

calm down. It was hard for me to admit that I was losing it, but I was. I felt like I did the

first time I went snorkeling: that panicked feeling that you’re going to drown and the

irresistible urge to breathe in faster despite all the water around your face. My anxiety

was overwhelming. So, for a few days, I requested sedatives. This was a hard thing for

me to do, but everyone seemed to think that it was perfectly fine to “take the edge off”.

Anything to help me rest and recover seemed acceptable to everyone. It wasn’t until 4 or

5 days later when they started talking about taking the tubes out of my mouth again, that I

finally started to relax.

…

More bizarre experiences in the hospital…

One of the first things I remember after waking up in the CICU, was a “treat” that one of

the nurses gave me. It was a simple, small green sponge on a stick that they use to swab

out patients’ mouths. Before swabbing out my mouth one day, he said, “This one’s to

clean…”, and then wiped out mouth as usual. But moments later he picked up another

sponge that he had soaked it in ice water, and said, “This one is to enjoy.” He put it in

my mouth, and I was in heaven! Whoever thought ice water would taste so good! I

signed for “more! more!”, but he could only give me a little so that I wouldn’t aspirate

water into my lungs. Later, when I was sent to the ICU, I asked for “green ice” again, but

the nurses were reluctant to give it to me. When the doctor said it was ok, they marked in

my chart that I liked it, and from then on, I always had little cups of “green ice” near my

bed. One of the perks of almost dying, I guess. J

Another really nice thing that stands out in my mind is the box of donuts that one of the

ICU nurses brought to me when I was on an increased “calorie count” toward the end of

my stay. After learning that donuts are my favorite food, she used her break to sneak out

and buy them on her own – it was so sweet and very unexpected.

One component of the recovery process that not many people got to witness, though, was

my progression through different emotions. After getting over the initial shock (no pun

intended) of what had happened to me, and being amazed at all the tubes sticking out of

my body, I quickly proceeded to become annoyed and then actually angry. I was so

pissed off at everything. I was mad that the doctors never caught what was happening

until it was too late. I was mad when some guy in the CICU injected some type medicine

into me, which made my stomach burn like fire, only I couldn’t tell anyone because I had

all these tubes in my mouth. Luckily, the main nurse came in right at that time, and

quickly figured out that something was wrong and how to fix it. I remember the panic in

the first nurse’s voice when he said, “Oh man!” as he scrambled to figure out what had

happened.

Then there was the time in the ICU right after they had removed the catheter, and I was

having a lot of trouble peeing. I tried and tried, but I just couldn’t do it. At the same

time, they were giving me medicine to force the excess fluids out of body (remember the

37 liters they injected into my veins when I was admitted?), while still giving me a

constant IV drip. Despite all these facts, my attending doctor in the ICU didn’t want to

cath me, and left orders in my chart for none of the nurses to either. She actually said to

me, “People can die of having a catheter in for too long. Do you want to die?” Nice.

She actually bargained with me, that if I peed, she wouldn’t order as many chest X-rays.

What??? So there I was, in total agony, with my knees curled up to my chest and my

whole body shaking because my bladder feels like it’s going to explode and I can’t pee.

Finally, one of the nurses finally relents and straight caths me, despite the doctor’s orders.

The nurse collected over a liter of urine out of my bladder at that time. Crazy!

Meanwhile, this same catheter-obsessed doctor had not ordered a chest x-ray for that day,

and the nurses were so busy that they were not listening to my lungs very often, despite

my coughing throughout the night. And that’s when, fortunately, the infectious disease

doctor came in to check on me. With just one look, he said, “You don’t look so good.”

He took out his stethoscope, listened to my lungs for just a moment, then quickly turned

and shouted for the nurse. She rushed into the room, he shoved his stethoscope at her,

and angrily said, “What do you hear?” She bent over to listen to my lungs, and her face

went pale. Immediately she rushed out of the room, and then moments later a whole

group of doctors and nurses came in, laid me down, and cut me open to insert another

chest tube. Right there without any other preparation. When the chest tube went in, I

coughed, and I felt warm fluid gush from my body. It sprayed all over the doctor and all

over the floor. I already described what happened after that (above), but the ironic thing

is, when they readmitted me to the ICU, they reinserted the catheter.

Hallucinations….

There was a day or so when whatever pain medication they were giving me was way too

strong. Since I had almost had multiple organ failure at the beginning of the illness, they

didn’t want to give me over-the-counter pain medication like ibuprofen that might

damage my liver further. So the next alternative is: narcotics! One night I vividly

remember that the nurses outside my room were trying to catch a cat. It got away from

them, and it crept into my room and started circling the chair where Sean was sleeping.

Since he’s allergic to cats I tried to wake him up, but with the ventilator in my mouth, I

couldn’t speak. So I started banging on the side rail of my bed. Eventually he stirred, but

the banging had already scared away the cat. He looked up at me and could tell I was

frightened. “What is it?” he asked. I tried to use sign language to spell C-A-T, but my

hands were so swollen that he couldn’t make out the letters. So, he had me point to the

letter chart. I slowly spelled out C-A-T, but he thought I was worried about the CAT

scan, and proceeded to explain the results to me again. No, no, no, I shook my head. C-

A-T. “What?” he said. I nodded my head up and down and pointed to the floor.

“What???” he said again. I was getting really frustrated by this point. But I kept at it,

and somehow I managed to convey to him that there was a cat in the room, but he clearly

didn’t believe me. When the nurse walked in a few minutes later, I nudged at him to tell

her. He just looked at me like I was crazy, and barely shook his head “no” at me, so she

couldn’t see. After the nurse was done checking me, she asked if she could do anything

else to help. I nodded, and nudged at Sean again. Reluctantly he told the nurse how I

thought I had seen a cat in the room. The nurse obviously didn’t believe this either, and

very calmly proceeded to ask me if I was missing a cat at home? Did I mean CAT scan?

No, I shook my head, and gave up. I realized that they both thought it was all in my

head, and suddenly I had flashbacks to how people treated my grandmother when she

was getting into the worst of her hallucinations with Parkinson’s disease. I suddenly

knew exactly how she felt. It seemed SO real, and it felt like everyone thought I was

crazy.

Later that night I also hallucinated that the mirror in my room was a two-way mirror, and

that there were med students on the other side observing me (after all, it was a teaching

hospital!). I also hallucinated that one of my grad students came to visit me to ask for

help on her Masters thesis (which she actually was working on at the time). Although the

dosage of narcotics was lowered the next day and I stopped having hallucinations, I still

wasn’t convinced that the “dreams” I had had weren’t real until they transferred me out

of the room several days later and I could see that there was only a patient room adjacent

to mine – no “hidden” classroom. And it wasn’t until I got an email from my grad

student that I finally became convinced that she hadn’t visited me that night.

….

Moving the whale…

Shortly after the hallucination experience, the physical therapy nurses in the hospital tried

to get me to stand up so they could transfer me to a chair (this is one of the things they do

to start encouraging you to regain mobility). At that time, I was too weak to even sit up

in the bed, so two of them came in and slowly lifted up my back. But even the muscles in

my neck were weak, so my head kind of flopped forward as they sat me up. It was then

that I saw my belly for the first time since entering the hospital. I swear, I looked like I

was 8 months pregnant. “I’m so fat!” I remember telling the nurses, and they laughed.

Then, they tried to stand me up. Of course, my legs were like jello, and my legs were so

swollen that I couldn’t even flex my ankles enough to stand normally. I don’t think the

nurses were prepared for how heavy and how weak I was, because they lost their grip and

I sloughed back into the bed. They had to try several times, but finally with some

coordination they managed to stand me up and then sit me down in a chair immediately

adjacent to my bed.

The next day, there were no physical therapy nurses available, but the regular nurses were

very motivated and helpful and still wanted to get me back into the chair again. So they

got this huge lifting machine to help. It’s like a forklift with a canvas harness attached to

it. First, they had to get the harness on my body, which was not easy, again because I

was so fat and weak. It took 6 of them, 3 on each side, to maneuver my hugeness into the

harness. Then they attached the harness to the machine and started lifting me into the air.

But I don’t know if they had had much experience operating the thing, because I went up

really really high, and almost touched the ceiling. It was like a circus, with the 6 nurses

watching me from below, some of them holding my various tubes and tanks, others

moving furniture, others guiding my body into the chair. I swear, I felt like a beached

whale being rescued by the coast guard. It was hilarious, but I couldn’t laugh with all the

tubes in my mouth. Once they finally got me seated, removed the machine, and all the

nurses left, I just sat there astounded at the whole process. My main nurse came back in,

looked at me, and asked, “Are you ok? You have a really strange look on your face.” Of

course, I couldn’t explain to her how I felt, but she finally guessed. “You’re like, ‘what

the *@$! is going on’, right?” Yeah, that about sums it up.

….

I think that about covers most of the bizarre experiences that weren’t mentioned in Sean’s

original blog. Hopefully you will benefit from this retelling in some way, whether it is

being careful and vigilant with your own health, or helping others to be. Again, I can’t

thank all of you enough who have given your support this year. It has meant so much to

all of us, and I only hope that I can repay you somehow in the future.

In closing, I feel like I really need to thank some people by name, so that they know how

much their help meant to us. There are, of course, many many others who helped as well,

but these are the few that stand out in my mind as being particularly extraordinary in their

efforts:

Dr. Patrick Walsh & Dr. Joseph Smith – these guys literally saved my life that first

week in the hospital. I would not be alive today if it wasn’t for their excellent care.

Dr. Mary Francis Koester & Dr. Svetolik Kjurkovic – the critical care physicans that

helped me through my second stay in the ICU. Again, amazing doctors!

Nurse Joe Costa – the first person I saw when I came out of the coma in the CICU. A

former special ops guy who attacks germs now, not terrorists! He was really top-notch.

Nurses Amy Gearhart & Amy Shurock – the AICU nurses who helped me

tremendously during recovery. They actually made my stay “enjoyable”, if it’s possible

to say that about a hospital!

Dr. John VanKirk & Dr. Michael Flanagan – my pulmonologist and our family

doctor, respectively, who have been so careful and thorough with caring for me after

being discharged from the hospital. They are both fantastic doctors!

Mike & Becky Wittrig – our wonderful neighbors who took care of Coral & Ethan

before Barb arrived from New Mexico. They also provided many, many meals and

support throughout the whole process, and organized the neighborhood to help with the

same. We are so lucky to have them as friends!!!

….

I hope I never have to write a blog like this again. But thanks very much for taking the

time to read it, and again, for all your support.

Thank goodness we made it through 2009. Here’s to a HEALTHY and happy 2010!!!

Love,

Rachel

P.S. If you want more proof of my full recovery, check out this brief news article that

includes pictures of me and my students in action this past semester:

http://www.rps.psu.edu/pennsylvania/crustacean_cleanup.html

It’s pretty cool, and definitely not as traumatic! J

Old Rachel updates (by Sean)

10am, Mar 19

Hi everyone,

Sorry it has been so long since a blog update, and I feel a bit guilty knowing many of you

check this daily. The entries will be in longer intervals now that Rachel is home and

needs our care. Also, I’m teaching again, Rachel’s mom is back in NM, and my mom is

leaving tomorrow, so I’m doing all the pick-up/drop-offs, baths, etc. It’s pretty much

non-stop from when I get home at night to when everyone goes down for bed.

Rachel is doing very well. Yesterday she went on a walk outside and made it to the TWO

houses down! The physical therapist says she doesn’t need her walker anymore based on

how well she did without it, so that’s a HUGE step toward recovery (no pun intended).

She is getting stronger every day, but she is still tires very easily and needs the oxygen

turned up for physical activity. She is also still a bit unsteady when walking, so the

therapist taught her some exercises to try to get her balance back. The doctors don’t really

know how long Rachel will need oxygen, but they estimate it will be June, July, or

August before we can stop it. She is doing her breathing exercises religiously, and lately

says that it feels like her lower lungs are opening up finally. There’s quite a bit of

“popping” and “twinges”, sometimes painful, but the doctors said that this would be

normal as different passages unclog or drain out.

The kids are VERY happy to have mommy around again, and have learned to keep clear

of her breathing tubes and not jump on her. Coral is obsessed with mommy’s breathing

inspirometer, a device that measures intake of air and reports each breath in liters. The

goal is to breathe in as hard as possible, and thereby exercise the lungs. There’s a little

bar on the side that sets a “goal”, and when mommy hit the “1 liter” goal for the first time

yesterday night (she was at 500 mL a week ago), Coral was very happy! Of course, Coral

immediately moved the bar up to 1500 mL! (wonder where she gets her drive from?)

Ethan loves to run on/off mommy’s nebulizer and fan, and also loves playing again with

mommy’s hair. He has the sniffles lately, so we are being very firm with him washing

hands.

Mom has been the greatest, and is especially pampering us lately as she gets ready to go

tomorrow morning. She’s been a tremendous help and definitely the rock of the family

the past month, but at the same time I can see that this has been hard on her, especially

since she thought the trip would only be a week or so when she first came out. I’m sure

she is looking forward to seeing all her friends back home, and finally get to a new set of

clothes that she hasn’t worn a dozen times in the last month. (she says she plans to burn

her wardrobe upon return!)

As for me, I’m doing better. Being in front of the class is definitely helping, and it

reminds me of how much I really missed my “kids”. Yesterday was a big day since it was

the first day that I did the whole routine of lecture prep, etc that takes up so much time

outside of the class. And last night, I came home and mom/Rachel had made a birthday

cake and wrapped my presents from the missed, horrible day on Valentines when this all

started. The presents were SO sweet, and reminded me of how Rachel pampered me so

much before all this happened. I can only hope that I can do the same for her over this

next year.

The schedule so far is MWF are teaching days for me, so Rachel will be on her own then.

Tuesdays and Thursdays I will be at home at least one of those days, if only so I can get

some of the house stuff done such as shopping etc. At this point, I’m starting to set up

help for around the house, and thanks to everyone who has been sending suggestions for

house cleaners, lawn mowers, etc.

If I need some help in the next few weeks, I may be reaching out to some of you. I’m

normally VERY reluctant to accept help – a pretty normal attitude for someone from the

southwest – but I promised mom that I’d do my best to keep from getting buried.

I’ll try to provide weekly updates, but they may quickly turn into monthly updates since

Rachel is becoming stable. And Rachel promises to provide the last blog entry!

Thank you everyone for your support and care,

- Sean

9pm, Mar 13

Hi everyone,

I have the most wonderful news! They are releasing Rachel from the hospital!! And not

to rehab, but to HOME! She’s free at last, free at last, thank god almighty, she’s free at

last!

OK, the back story: We visited Rachel today, and as a surprise, we brought the kids

along. At least, it was a surprise until Rachel asked to talk to Coral this morning before

we left, and in 10 seconds figured out what we were doing (Coral was strong, but Rachel

is THAT good).

We got there at about noon, and at the start of our visit, Rachel told us the same story as

before: that she may not be released to rehab until Monday. But that, as of this morning,

the doctors weren’t sure what the rehab facility could do for her. Apparently, the normal

rehab patient works on developing a level of proficiency in day-to-day tasks that allow a

return to normal life: brushing teeth, combing hair, walking, etc. The thing is, Rachel has

been doing all that at the hospital. Her only problem is that she can’t breathe very well

without oxygen! And the rehab facility can’t change this fact much other than exercise.

Since this exercise can be done at home, the only thing keeping her in hospital care is 1)

someone needs to be with her for two or three days after release from the main hospital,

and 2) she has to be able to do stairs.

Hearing this, my mom mentioned that her return flight could be scheduled at the end of

the week, allowing me and her to provide the round-the-clock help Rachel might need.

And shortly thereafter, the occupational therapist came by, watched Rachel walk down

the hall – she was amazingly solid this time – and then led her to the stairwell. She was

slow and careful, but she climbed a flight of stairs with no problem at all. The therapist

said right after this new level of performance that she could go home, that all her rehab

could be done there, and that we didn’t even need to have the bed downstairs – it would

be good for her to climb up/down to the 2nd floor bedroom anyway!

So she’s coming home!!

To celebrate, we took the kids tonight to get pizza let each pick out a rental movie.

Hopefully we’ll be decorating the house tomorrow for her return! The only hold-ups are

that we have to have oxygen systems installed upstairs and downstairs, and we have to

have an official discharge from the hospital.

We know everyone is anxious to see her and to talk to her, but she will need all the rest

she can get once she gets back. Although she will be home, she is still very fragile and

won’t be bouncing around the house for quite a while. I’m also sure she will want to limit

contact with folks for a few days while she heals from all the TLC the hospital gave to

her! (they did a great job, but her skin is a bit beaten up)

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers for her speedy recovery, and we are in the home

stretch! (no pun intended)

- Sean

7pm, Mar 11

Hi everyone,

We had a great visit with Rachel today, and she surprised us by walking completely to

the end of the hall and back to her room! She didn’t even seem winded! They will be

stopping her antibiotics tonight or tomorrow, then need to observe her for one day

afterwards. If she checks out OK, they will take out her central line, at which point she

can leave for rehab! So again, they say this move to rehab (or at least “normal” care)

MIGHT be as soon as Friday, but most likely Monday or thereafter. Rachel is also in

good spirits, and loved the recent messages I read to her today that everyone is sending to

me.

Mom did the driving both to and from the hospital, which was a huge relief. Even just

having someone to talk to was a welcome change, and we talked quite a bit about all that

had happened the past few weeks and how abruptly everything changed overnight… It

seems years ago that all this started. Even the sky was blue for the whole drive home, and

mom said the 50 mph winds reminded her so much of New Mexico!

When we arrived back at the house, Coral’s piano teacher Bekah showed up minutes later

and had a good lesson with Coral. I then took the kids to the playground and chased them

around for a while, until the cold drove us back inside to warm up again. The kids are

eating dinner now, and our hope is to get the kids down for bed a bit early tonight as they

still aren’t quite adjusted to daylight savings. This reminds me: thanks again to all the

neighbors who are still feeding us so well!

Sorry that there’s not much more to tell, but today has been wonderfully normal!

- Sean

11pm, Mar 10

Great news! The doctors are talking today about rehab!! This is the first time they have

even hinted at LEAVING THE HOSPITAL! They haven’t told us anything firm, but they

are saying that she might be able to get out of the care facility in the next week, and then

would spend one to two more weeks at the rehab facility at Pleasant Gap (~15 miles from

our house!). We’re so excited!!

The CAT scan today looked good, at least for someone whose lungs were completely

devastated not too long ago: no fluid, no collapsed lung portions, no air trapped between

the lung and chest wall, and no obvious secondary infection. Of course, the residues from

the pneumonia are still there, and will likely be there for several months. But the doctor

today hinted that they think that all the microbes are dead, and that they are just being

very cautious now about keeping Rachel on antibiotics. And of course, they are worried

about moving her because she doesn’t last very long without supplemental oxygen.

They did mention that this will probably be the last CAT scan, unless things get worse

again. The docs at this point don’t want to give her any further high-doses of radiation, as

they let Rachel know today that each CAT scan has roughly 1000 times the radiation of

one chest x-ray. Glad they waited to tell her after she was better, especially since she was

reluctant to let them keep doing chest x-rays daily. I can’t imagine the fight they would

have had trying to get a CAT scan if Rachel knew the dosage ratios! I joked that, since

she had four CAT scans so far (at least), she has the next 12 years of daily x-rays

covered!

Rachel was also happy to see her mom today, so happy she did a little performance for

us. Today’s show featured my wonderful ballet dancer stepping onto the stage (out of her

room) for the first time and leaping through the air (plodding in a walker) in front of a

packed house (she made it to two other rooms down the hall!) She said that her feet felt

like golden butterflies (logs made out of lead) and that they could have fluttered all night

(she needed to sit down quickly)! We were so proud of her that we filled her dressing

room (her hospital chair) with wonderful presents worthy of such a grand performance

(more high-protein dessert drinks that she had to drink… today’s special was orange

sherbet mixed with milk protein powder, yum!).

Rachel’s mom Alice is staying at the hospice bed that I’ve been occupying the past few

weeks, and before leaving her, I did my best to get her oriented to the strange hospital

layout. At least, good enough that WHEN my mother-in-law gets lost, she won’t say that

it was intentional! I’ll be doing the back-forth drive for a while, probably until we get

Rachel moved closer. Once we have a firm date for Rachel’s move to the rehab facility,

we’ll probably let mom return to New Mexico since the folks there miss her too; she’s

apparently mommy-the-world-saver for many more people than just her kids! We’ll also

post an address for the rehab to those of you who want to send something. We are

moving hospital beds every few days now, so everything sent to us now is one more thing

for the nurses to carry.

Tomorrow we’re planning on taking the kids in to see mommy for the second time since

this all started. Hopefully the experience won’t send her back to the ICU (like last time).

Before leaving today I warned Rachel to get lots of sleep and to stay on her pain meds.

Tonight I also told my 3-year-old about the upcoming visit, and though he loves his

mommy more than anything, I’m still not sure he understands. Our conversation went

like this:

“Ethan, tomorrow morning we are going to drive early to go see mommy at the hospital.”

“Will there be ice on the road?”

“No, it is cold outside, but it’s not that cold. There won’t be any ice on the road.”

“Will there be ice cream on the road?”

“No, that would make it very slippery, and then sticky…”

“Then I don’t want to go…”

“That’s too bad, since there may be ice cream at the hospital. We’ll have to eat it without

you…”

“How do they get ice cream at the HOSPITAL?!”

“They have people bring it, or they have machines that make it. The hospital has LOTS

of machines!”

“They have MACHINES that make ICE CREAM!?” (I think this is the first time

he realized that ice cream can be made on demand)

“They might.”

“Somebody should turn them off. I want to turn them off tomorrow so that

nobody gets the ice cream!” (he’s saying this because he knows ice cream is a treat that

you only get AFTER you eat healthy food first, and you go to a hospital to get healthy)

“But they might be making their ice cream tonight, so that it will be ready for tomorrow.”

“Then we should go tonight!”

“How about we go tomorrow, and after we see mommy, we can check on the ice cream.

Does that sound good?”

“OK! We should go early though. Can you carry me if I’m sleepy?”

“Yes, I’ll carry you… goodnight Ethan!”

As I’m sure you can tell by the last few blogs, we are all so happy about Rachel’s

improvement. I talked to her today, and our plan is to keep this blog going until Rachel is

out of the hospital and into rehab. There are so many of you who have written, called,

prayed, cooked, shoveled, babysat, and of course cried alongside us, that we can only say

how amazed we are at the outpouring of hope and kindness. We look forward to catching

up with you all soon. (On that note, after reading all the messages sent to me for her,

Rachel asked again today if I’m keeping them archived so that she can follow up one-by-

one when she’s better. I told her yes, but that everyone wants her to get better first!)

We love you all and thank you so much!

- Sean

10pm, Mar 9

Hi everyone,

We still have no news from the CAT scan that was supposed to be today but ended up

being just moments ago. The doctors, sensing my frustration, told me that we’d have to

wait until tonight to do the scan since outpatient services have priority during the day. I

just talked to Rachel moments ago, and she just came back from CAT machine, and was

a bit bummed since she couldn’t hold her breath as big as she wanted, since she wanted

her lungs to look as “big” as possible on the machine! I told her the last thing she needs is

for the doctors to see these wonderfully inflated lungs, think that this was “normal”

Rachel, and then send her immediately home!

She’s also being fed constantly, trying to get weight back on her. When I walked in, she

had three desserts and what looked like two full meals piled up in front of her. Poor

thing! The irony is that she loves to eat salad, but the nutritionist said that this isn’t

exactly the best thing to eat if you are trying to put on weight.

The fact that the doctors aren’t pressing so much for the CAT scan tells me they aren’t

that worried about fluid build-up. And Rachel’s outward appearance is also a bit better

today… I got to see her walk to the bathroom and she did really well! Of course, she’s

not going to try out for the Olympics or anything, but if you chose a small nursing home,

Rachel could probably hold her own!

Today was a rough one for me, with 7 hours on the road. I’m up to round-trip #16 to

Danville, and at 100+ miles one way, I’m at least up to 3200 miles the past three weeks!

We had our car serviced the week before this happened, and the “needs service” light just

came on again today. Even my iTunes list is really seeming old now.

I picked up Rachel’s mom at the Altoona airport, which turned out to be about 70 miles

in the opposite direction from the hospital! We though the airport would actually be in

Altoona (45 minutes away), but it should have been called the “halfway to DC” airport

since you drive WAY past Altoona proper to get to it. I planned to be there about 30

minutes early just in case the flight came in early. Good thing, since I just barely arrived

as she picked up her luggage. She had a good flight, and spent the long car ride back

catching up with this blog, which she hadn’t seen until today. There were quite a few

gasps and hands over mouth expressions during that hour and a half. We’ll be driving

back to Danville tomorrow (trip 17) so she can see Rachel for the first time since this all

began.

Mom and the kids are doing OK. Mom’s struggling to keep her sanity watching the same

kids shows over and over and over. If anyone is into “Barbie’s 12 Dancing Princesses” or

“Space Buds”, please inquire at the E-mail below! So much for all those Baby Einstein

videos we pushed on them earlier. But seriously, they are doing fine and hanging in there

as well as can be expected. Rachel asked to talk to mom tonight and thanked her

profusely, and how her help with the kids lets her get better and will let her visit with her

mom later this week.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow (not the driving) because I’m hoping the doctors will

show us an “end of the tunnel” view. Rachel is really starting to ask about long-term

planning at this point… when we can set up a bedroom on the first floor of the house,

long-term rehab, or even when my mom might be able to get her life back. Of course,

we’ll let you all know.

Thanks so much to those of you who recently found this blog and have been E-mailing

us… we are sorry we missed many of you in the initial, frantic flurry of E-mails. But I’m

still reading all your messages to Rachel every day, and hopefully soon her lungs will be

well enough that we can start taking calls and accepting flowers! Again, I’ll let you

know!

- Sean

10pm, Mar 8

Rachel is still doing fine… she got her right chest tube removed earlier this afternoon,

and was able to (for the first time) walk to the bathroom in her room. She’s a bit tired

from all the activity and because she wasn’t able to get her naps, but otherwise doing

well. We’re keeping our fingers crossed that the CAT scan tomorrow morning shows

little to no fluid build-up!

Mom and I went to the movies today with the kids, and it was also good to get mom out

of the house. Mom thinks that all the rain we are getting is nice, but she definitely misses

the New Mexico blue skies. After the movie, we drove around town and had a few funny

episodes where we couldn’t figure out why everything was closed, until we remembered

that we hadn’t set our vehicle clock or wristwatches forward!

- Sean

2pm, Mar 8

This is just a quick update that Rachel is still doing well.. We were able to talk to her

off/on all morning via the phone directly to her room. While it’s still hard for her to talk,

she says she feels fine and is still getting the 6 hours of sleep a night plus few hours

napping during the day. She was able to walk around the room a bit this morning due to

the nurse urging her to try to brush her teeth on her own at the room sink. The nurse only

realized that Rachel hadn’t walked much on her own after Rachel was halfway to the

sink, and only after Rachel told her! So she is doing good, but the short walk made her

very dizzy and tired.

The nurses at the Special Care are great, and keep trying to push food on Rachel

constantly. Rachel’s lost quite a bit of weight since losing all the fluid… she said she

weighed in this morning at about 120 lbs, and mentally I subtract from that because it

includes what must be another 10 to 15 lbs of fluid in her swollen belly area. So in my

estimation, she’s hovering around 100 lbs, and by my sight, she’s certainly the skinniest

I’ve ever seen her. While I wouldn’t say it’s in the danger zone, it’s skinny enough for a

5’9” person that she’s constantly being told to eat, sleep, eat, sleep, etc. Her muscles are

noticeably atrophied, and so I asked the nurse yesterday about it. Her reply was that they

are pushing lots of protein and calories to prevent any further deterioration. The nurse

yesterday even asked Rachel what her favorite food was, and I mentioned that Rachel

LOVES donuts! I told Rachel that I would bring some by every time I get out of the

hospital. Lo and behold, 30 minutes later, but the same nurse shows up with a box of

donuts from Dunkin Donuts! Though not protein, Rachel needs every calorie she can

eat… and the nurses will get every calorie into her however they can!

The only item of concern now is that, depending on which doctor you talk to, the x-rays

from this morning show that fluid is again building up in her left lung, the one where they

took the tube out four days ago. The radiologist sees fluid, but the respiratory doctor isn’t

sure. Personally, I can hear that Rachel is having a harder time talking today than

yesterday. Since the docs are arguing and both don’t want a repeat of the “crash and

burn” like the last time the fluid built up (the doctor’s words, not mine), Rachel will be

getting a CAT scan in the next 24 hours. Further, to head off any future confusion, her

attending physician ordered a meeting of representatives from radiology, respiratory

therapy, etc to make sure everyone agrees on the course of action hereafter.

So in summary, we’re in “wait and see” mode again. To me, the biggest indicator of

Rachel’s progress is how she feels. I asked her, and she said that she feels a bit worse

than yesterday, but she also said perhaps that was because when I called the pain meds

were wearing off. She said that the pain meds make a big difference, and that she

thought the reason she crashed last time was because she wasn’t careful about taking

them after the chest-tube was re-inserted. She said that when her chest is hurting, it’s

really hard to open up and get a big breath without having anxiety, which leads to faster

breathing, etc. I’ll call her again tonight to see how she is doing and will let you all

know!

- Sean

10am, Mar 7

Sean again, and I’m sitting next to Rachel and…. she is doing so much better! She is off

the ventilator, they removed her chest tube from her left side, and they moved her out of

the ICU and into the “Special Care” facility, all in the last few days! This is awesome

news! Rachel says I shouldn’t jinx it, but I’m so so happy for her that I have to share!

To give you an idea of how well she is doing, the nurses suggested that Rachel surprise

me yesterday by having me show up to discover her without the ventilator, so whenever I

would call, the nurses kept telling me that she was on the machine but doing well,

weaning slowly. After many times of me calling them and them fibbing to me, Rachel got

worried the surprise might make me frightened, especially since she was moving rooms.

So I got a wonderful call from her just before my drive to the hospital, which made the

drive so much easier.

Of course, I am watching her closely and emphasizing rest and food, and the nurses are

doing the same. She is doing so much better that we want to keep her this way!

Her mom is coming in a few days, and she is looking forward to that. For now, I am

enjoying helping her get cleaned up and feeling human again, and just holding her hand

while we sleep. She still has a long way to go, and it will likely be several weeks before

she comes home. But the last few days have been big steps in the right direction!

- Sean

10am, Mar 5

Sean here again, and Rachel is doing better. Her nurse yesterday said that she was

weaned from the ventilator (the vent set at lowest “assist” settings) for most of yesterday,

and if her progress continues, that she will most likely be removed from the ventilator

sometime in the next day or two. The nurse also said that they pulled the chest tube that

was draining Rachel’s left lung, which surprised me since that same side had a mucus

plug in it several days ago, and once the plug came out several cups of fluid drained

immediately afterwards. It seems to me a bit quick to pull the tube just days after a few

cups of fluid came out, but the doctors will of course be watching for any fluid build-up

in the daily chest x-rays to avoid the refill problem that happened earlier with her right

lung. And they have told me that it is better to take it out for short periods, even if it has

to go back in, in order to prevent infection around the entry site.

I’ve been home the last day with the kids and mom, and everyone is as well as can be

expected. Coral and Ethan are very snuggly, and mom and I were able to go out for lunch

together yesterday at the Waffle Shop. Mom really enjoyed it as there’s not anything like

that in Las Cruces.

Afterwards, we went to pick up a laptop computer for the road from Zoli and all the folks

at PTI. They’ve been wonderful in making sure everything is going well there – teaching

one of my classes, setting up this computer, watching my students and projects – and I

couldn’t ask for better friends. Thank you everyone! I confirmed that I’m able to update

from the road by updating the blog yesterday from Zoli’s office.

As for me, I’m starting to realize how dazed I am lately because my “quick recall”

memory is totally gone. The other day I forgot which month it was (February at the time)

and seriously had to count weeks backward in my head to realize that we were in the

Spring, not Fall semester. I forgot my grandmother’s name the other day talking with my

mom. When talking to the nurses at the hospital, I reverted to my brother’s old name

(Billy) which he hasn’t used in 12 years. I ran into Matt Mench at the Waffle Shop and

completely blanked on his name when trying to introduce him to my mom (please don’t

take it personally, Matt). I’ve lost my checkbook more times in the last three weeks than

the last five years. Driving around State College, I’ve completely forgotten two or three

times where I’m supposed to be going, making wrong turns, etc. Mom says she’s

watching out for me, but I’m going to schedule some time with a counselor as I’m

starting to scare myself. And mom says she’s going to stick around for at least another

week to make sure the family is OK before she leaves.

Many people have asked about our relationship together, so I wanted to put a few words

down on how we met. Rachel and I have known each other for 21 years, and have been

married for 12 (13 in May). She sat behind me in my freshman high-school physical

chemistry class, and always kicked my seat. In retaliation, I always secretly untied her

shoes or would tie them together from under my seat. We never dated during high-school

– she dated a good friend those four years and hence was off-limits – but we did become

very good friends. After senior year, when I was leaving for the Air Force Academy, she

pulled me aside at a party and told me that she was sorry that we never were able to start

a relationship and that she wanted to stay in touch. She wrote to me during basic training,

and after she broke up with my friend, we went out for a date upon my return that

Thanksgiving. We dated from a distance for a year and a half, at which point we realized

that we were most likely going to get married. Rachel told me that she didn’t want to be a

military wife, but she would for me. And I realized at the time that being a fighter pilot

wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, especially since automated flight seemed to be the

future (one big reason I study this area now). I got out of the Academy, moved back to

our hometown in Las Cruces and spent the next few years working part time to paying off

the big bills sent by the military for all the training and equipment I used. It was a hard

time since I didn’t qualify for any scholarships at NM State, having turned them all down

when I went to the Academy. But Rachel was by my side the whole time and we both

still have very happy memories of that time despite having to stretch the monthly

paycheck every way we could, and living in an apartment with barely any heat (not a big

issue in warm New Mexico, but still stunk for many weeks at a time). Later I’ll tell the

funny stories of my proposal to her and the birth of Coral!

We love her very much, and we are so proud of how she is improving. And again, thanks

everyone for your love and support!

- Sean

130pm, Mar 5

Sean here, posting an update for yesterday and today. Rachel is still in the ICU, basically

in the same condition as several days ago. There’s slight improvement, but at this point

she’s just trying to recover her energy. The post below is a little sad, but that was the

mood yesterday. Today she is doing a little better, and I’ll try to post another update this

afternoon.

(the following was written on the 4th)

At home: Initial outpouring of food is still coming… we finally sent a note out to the

neighborhood to ask that they collectively organize to limit meals to only 3 a week. Each

of the dinners have been football-team large and we honestly can’t eat the meals fast

enough! (II think everyone forgets that it’s just my mom and two kids at home). Even

only counting what other people have signed up to bring from Coral’s bus-stop, the

current back-log is 3 weeks, and we still have tons frozen in the freezer!!  We live in an

absolutely wonderful community, and so food is NOT a problem!

Yesterday’s updates: Rachel is still not out of the clear. Based on cultures from a few

days ago whose gram-stain results arrived today, her lungs were confirmed to be infected

still, but with little possibility of secondary infection because the antibiotics in the fluid

seemed to have killed the bacteria during the extraction. These gram-test results today are

useful: they show that the strep is still growing in the lung and that the antibiotics still

haven’t reached all portions of the lung due to the level of damage to the lung wall.

They think Rachel will pull through, but her lung function seems worse and slower to

recover than a week ago. Right now she can’t breathe on her own and requires about 60%

help from the machine for mechanical breathing, and about a 50% mix of O2. The rest of

her is doing much better though, other than needing fairly regular blood transfusions for

reasons which I don’t yet understand. But this morning during rounds, the doctor said that

hers were probably the worst pneumonia example that any of the students would see at

that hospital. He didn’t mention the obvious reason for such a statement: because most

people don’t survive this level of infection. He did say that she is very strong, and that

her health and youth have saved her. During rounds this morning, they went through her

chart again, and to me, her latest x-rays and CAT scans look the same as the first ones.

This could be my ignorance. I’m still no good at reading x-rays, but I’m getting the

basics: I can spot fluid in the lungs, chest tubes, etc quite easily now. And the

terminology is starting to make sense: neutrophils, necrosis, bicarbs, hemes at 8, shift to

left, heprin, PIC lines vs central lines, white count at 17k, reparatory at 12 over 5, etc.

Her doctor’s are awesome, and the longer I’m there, the more that I learn, and the less

they hide from me. They don’t seem to have any issues now with me listening in to

Rachel’s rounds, whereas a week ago they tended to keep me out of it and instead

summarized with a kindergarten version afterwards.

My biggest fear now? That the infection will continue spreading… I’ve learned enough

about pneumonia patients lately to know that she’s entering a very dangerous recovery

time because of secondary respiratory problems that often come up weeks and months

after the initial infection. My understanding of this delay is because the lung damage

continues long after the initial infection: portions of the lung may die off,  stiffen, or lose

permeability due to damage. These areas are great for bacteria to hide out because there is

little circulation to these areas, hence little antibiotics or immune system response in

these locations, at least not until the tissue starts to heal and blood can flow there again.

And it takes the body a long time to heal… weeks and months of weakened lung activity.

This can make even a small thing like a cold quite disastrous. The good news is that the

doctors say that her lungs should heal completely when this is all over.

Rachel clearly has some reserve still, but not much. Watching her crash so quickly a few

days ago when the fluid built up in her lungs, I got that cold lump in my stomach again

like when this all started. Rachel seems to be having a harder time getting off the

ventilator now than last time, and this is worrisome. The docs tell me she may be out of

the ICU in about a week, with minimum 3 weeks recovery after that. But of course, they

told me exactly the same thing when we got here two and a half weeks ago, so I’m less

confident now.

Rachel’s mom, Alice, is flying out in a few days… I think the recent downturn really

scared her and made her realize how sick Rachel really is. In case the situation turns for

the worse very quickly, Alice wants to be here. I completely understand, as I’m totally

worried about leaving Rachel alone.

I’m trying to keep Rachel’s hopes up by avoiding discussion of the obvious severity. But

inside I’m getting strangely raw with emotions that swing wildly between numb and

sensitized. I keep a good poker face most of the time, but the smallest things can set me

off …commercials with kids in them, for example.

And speaking of kids, I miss them more than ever. I see Rachel in everything they do and

I just want to hug them all the time. I’ll be back in SC on Thursday and will give

everyone big hugs!

- Sean

1240 pm, Mar 3

Sorry we didn’t post any updates, yesterday—there was nothing new to report, and

we were still both so sad from the setback she had Saturday that we both just

wanted to focus on the daily routine with the kids and getting her better. Rachel

wrote to Sean this morning that she feels more rested today than she’s felt since all

of this began, and we’re so hopeful that maybe sleep will help the healing process

progress. Today she’s also receiving two more units of blood to replace the red

blood cells she’s losing—not sure why that is happening, and they are trying to

figure it out. Sean found out this morning the results of the tests she had done

Saturday night. The first biopsy came back negative, and they didn’t trust that result

so they sent off another sample that came back positive, and they are culturing it as

well—I don’t know what they are specifically looking for. They told Sean that as a

precaution, they are adding another antibiotic to the penicillin in case whatever it is

might be penicillin resistant. Sean said it appears she still has a lot of strep infection

in her lungs. They are going to try to get her up a little today and will probably

remove the central line, a catheter that delivers meds directly through the chest into

her heart—and will replace it with a PICC line that feeds through her arm into her

heart, a method less prone to infection. They are going to start supplementing her

feeding with protein to try to build up her blood. We do know her lungs are very

damaged right now after all they’ve been through, and we’re hoping the meds plus

lots of rest will give her the strength to heal. Please continue to pray for her and

know we are grateful for your caring and concern.

- Barb

930 am, Mar 1

Hi everyone,

Sean went to visit Rachel yesterday afternoon, and her blood oxygen level had dropped to

79% (sets off alarms), her blood pressure was elevated, and she was taken back into the

Adult Intensive Care Unit (AICU). They determined that the right lung really had not

cleared as previously thought—it had just stopped draining because it had become

clogged. They sedated her, re-inserted the right drain tube, and drained off a lot of fluid.

They were worried they weren’t getting enough antibiotics to the bacteria because of

decreased blood flow in that area, and that her pneumonia was actually getting worse.

They inserted a scope and found the bronchial tubes were clear, and they biopsied a part

of the infected area of the lung to determine exactly what bacteria they are dealing with—

is it the same or different. They re-inserted her breathing tube, her lungs re-inflated and

seemed to be expanding and contracting OK, her blood oxygen and blood pressure

returned to more normal readings, and Sean said she looked much more relaxed. Sean

said they were planning to do some further tests this morning on her other systems to see

if there is still some secondary infection, and he stayed the night in Danville to be close in

case the staff called him. He said now that she’s sedated again, she’s finally resting

which she probably needs as much as medicine, although when she’s sedated, she doesn’t

cough out all the stuff from her lungs. She had only managed a couple hours of sleep

each day in the Special Care Unit, and just breathing, coughing and trying to talk was so

exhausting for her. The pneumonia is the challenge now, getting it controlled and

eliminated. I’m still very worried about her—she’s still so very sick, and I believe prayer

is powerful, so please keep her in yours.

- Barb

9 am, Feb 28

Hi everyone,

Rachel just called and said she sounds a bit better. She said she slept OK last night, but

her coughing is really keeping her up. Of course, the doctors WANT the coughing as this

is the best way to get her lungs cleared, even if it means little sleep. I didn’t get any

details on the fix of her lung collapse, but that was because we were going over what she

wanted to wear (which tells me that she’s doing better). Just the process of picking out

clothes she needs seemed to cheer her up, but it’s still mainly pajamas at this point. She

asked that I visit her this afternoon, so I am packing up for that now and making sure that

the kids/mom are ready to be left alone. I’m not sure if I’ll be staying with her again for a

while. As always, I’ll leave it to Rachel to decide.

The kids are a bit tired because last night we belatedly celebrated my birthday (which

was on the 14th). The neighbors across the street were so sweet: after they learned that we

skipped my birthday because of Rachel’s collapse that same day, they baked a cake so

that we might celebrate with Rachel in the hospital. But after getting to the hospital room,

we realized that it was not the most sanitary place to have a cake, that the kids were

having trouble not tripping over the tubes, that flames weren’t allowed, and that Rachel

isn’t allowed much off her planned diet. So we did the singing/candles at home last night

with mom and the kids. Of course, with all the chocolate, we couldn’t get the kids down

until around 11.

Not sure what to do with all the sweets! If anybody wants some, please come by what

seems to be the Brennan bakery: in addition to the cake, we have four trays of brownies,

dozens of cupcakes, boxes and boxes of cookies, and boxes of candies… these are all

courtesy of our WONDERFUL neighbors. And of course, the girl-scout cookies arrived

this week… Laugh! I’ve been giving small plates of treats to the nurses, and they seem to

really appreciate it. Rachel has a big sweet tooth, so we are saving some for her, filling

our freezer to the brim for when she gets back. Rachel has already asked to make another

cake for my birthday when she’s back at the house, as one of her favorite things is

cooking treats with the kids. Perhaps we can have a block party to celebrate her return!

Sorry there’s not much to report, but it’s mainly trying to keep Rachel sleeping and

coughing now, and I’m VERY happy with that!

- Sean

12 noon, Feb 27

We went to see Rachel last night with the kids, which was good for both the kids and

Rachel. Rachel was very tired because she only got a few hours of sleep (from 4 am

to 6 am), and was off her meds and sitting in a chair quite a while before we came,

just so she wouldn’t be groggy. So needless to say Rachel wasn’t feeling her best,

even compared to the day before. Though we weren’t able to see her that long since

the kids couldn’t keep still, I know it was very comforting for Coral and Ethan to

actually see mommy and know that she’s getting better. Coral even made a point of

staring at Rachel’s oxygen monitor and cheering every time mommy hit 100%!

Talking to Rachel, we learned that she had to get two units of blood transfused yesterday

morning due to very low red blood cell counts. The nurse says this is normal, but of

course I’m worried since the docs never mentioned this issue before. They put Rachel on

Albumen just moments before we arrived, and apparently it makes the fluids inside the

lungs clear out. The doctors told Rachel that she shouldn’t be transferred to State College

because, if something should turn for the worse, they won’t have the facilities to handle

it. They said it will probably be 2 more weeks in the Special Care unit, just learning how

to walk again and getting the pneumonia cleared up.

Rachel asked that I spend some good time with the kids to get them into their routine, so

I’m back in SC until this weekend. I left Rachel with Barb’s cell phone so she can call us

whenever she wants. So if you have Barb’s number, please do not call as it is very hard

for Rachel. She can barely reach the phone, can only hold the phone up to her ear for a

few minutes at a time, and has to struggle just to talk. We’ll be leaving another cell phone

with her when we visit again this weekend.

This morning Rachel called us for the first time (yea!) to let us know that she was able to

get quite a bit more sleep last night, sleeping from midnight to six this morning. She also

said that she is coughing quite a bit now due to the Albumen, which is a good thing.

She just called again just moments ago saying that they plan to take her for a walk this

afternoon into the hallway using a walker. She also said they are thinking of taking out

the chest-tube on the right side, which is wonderful since she can do her therapy once one

of the tubes is cleared. The docs also said that they observed a partial collapse of her left

lung in the x-rays from this morning, something they saw before on the CAT scan but

thought was due to her being off the negative pressure. Now they think it really is a

partial collapse, and once they confirm it again with tomorrow’s x-ray, they will insert

another tube on her left side to open up that lung. I noticed that Rachel seems to be

having a harder time talking and breathing today, and that’s probably why.

So she’s improving, but there are still minor setbacks here and there that we have to

watch for. I keep telling myself that this is going to be a long process, but sometimes that

is hard to reconcile with how fast she got sick originally. But she is definitely strong,

working hard to get stronger, and knows that we all love her dearly.

- Sean

800 am, Feb 26

Sean came home to see the kids last night. Ethan was still awake, ran to the top of

the stairs, and literally leaped into Daddy’s arms, he was so glad to see him!! Coral

didn’t see him until this morning, when, while she was quietly eating her breakfast,

he came up and said “good morning”! She, too, squealed with joy and jumped into

his arms, and I’m thrilled that we have two happy kids—they were getting so

stressed not seeing their parents.

Rachel is doing GREAT!!! She’s in a regular room, now, and can stand for a few

moments in a kind of shaky, little kid kind of way, and of course she wants to come

home! She still has the chest tubes in, but I imagine once it’s safe to remove those, she’ll

be able to recuperate at home, or at least in State College, maybe. We’re all going to

drive over this afternoon, and the kids are SO excited about it!!!! Please keep us in your

thoughts for a safe trip over—the weather seems warmer today, but it’s part of my job to

worry (I’m a professional, don’t try this at home), and I’ll add more (or Sean will) once

the kids are settled at school and we have a chance to catch up.

1130 am, Feb 25

I hadn’t heard from Sean this morning, so I gave them a call. He said Rachel stood up

for a moment and moved to a chair next to her bed, so she’s getting some strength

back in her legs. Her body is also going through auto-diuresis where it now

recognizes it has too much excess fluid and does its best to shed it, so she’s getting

rid of lots of fluid, which is great! Sean said the CAT scan showed that the lungs

have been draining well, and now they can really see what’s going on. Her lungs are

still very full of pneumonia, roughly 50%, so she will likely need to be on an

extended regimen of antibiotics. She was due to complete them in about 4 days, but

she’ll need to stay on them until she clears. It’s very important for her to do her

breathing and coughing exercises, too, to get rid of it. At that point, I could hear lots

of talking in the background, and Sean said the doctor had just arrived, and he

would call me back. I was going to wait to and post until after they called, but I’m

thinking some folks might be wondering (as I was), so I thought I’d let you know

everything I know at this point. I’ll add more as soon as I hear from them. We’ll all

see if this posts OK—I usually have the site up all the time, but for some reason it

was completely down, but I think everything is reestablished, and it should be OK,

now. Till later…

- Barb

945 pm, Feb 24

Sean and Rachel called and talked to the kids on the speaker phone, and it was the

first time Coral and Ethan have heard mommy’s voice in over a week! They both

had grins from ear to ear after talking with her and were a dream to put to bed

tonight—no mystery why. Rachel did have another CAT scan to check her lungs and

intestines scheduled for this evening, and it may be finished by now. She was

getting ready for it when they called, and since they are both exhausted, they just

wanted to go straight to sleep after, so we said our “goodnights” and “sweet dreams”

and will wait until tomorrow to talk again. Sweet dreams to everyone else, too—I

say a prayer every night for anyone who might be reading this both to thank you for

your thoughts and prayers and to keep you and yours safe, as well.

- Barb

730 pm, Feb 24

I drove over to visit Rachel this afternoon, and she’s doing SO much better. She’s in

a regular bed, now, and she’s able to control the amount of incline herself, so she’ll

be able to sit up when she wants or lie down and rest when she’s tired. She talked

very softly because her throat is still a little irritated from the tube, but she was very

alert despite the pain medication. Of course she asked about the kids, and she asked

how I was doing (too sweet!!), and I told her how great all her friends and neighbors

have been to all of us. We talked about how sick she had been, and she seemed to

want some idea of when she’d be out of there. She said she felt ready to go home,

and Sean asked her to pick up her breathing tube—a small, VERY light plastic device

that helps her make sure she’s breathing and working her lungs correctly. She very

slowly reached for it, very slowly raised it up, and could barely get it to her mouth.

Sean said, “are you sure you are ready to go home?”, and Rachel said that maybe she

needed just a little more rest, but THEN she was going home! She’s so determined,

and I’m so glad!!! She’s always focused on what CAN be, not what is, and I know it

won’t be long at all before she’s back, again, discovering more ways to clean up the

environment and make the world a better place. The drive over and back was so

beautiful! It reminded me of the Cloudcroft area of New Mexico with the highway

winding through the pine covered hills, and the ice “waterfalls” frozen onto the

rocks were amazing!! I must admit it was SO relaxing to plug in my ear buds and

listen to my tunes during the drive. We’ve watched Barbie and the 12 Dancing

Fairies more times than I can count, so Aretha, Christina, Fergie, Jason, Keney,

Will.I.Am and the rest provided some welcomed relief, and I can face the fairies,

again!!!

UPDATE – just talked to Sean, and he and Rachel had a real meal, together—chicken

and rice (real food!!!)—and some banana tapioca that Sean ate, and they might take her

down for another CAT scan of her lungs tonight to see how she’s doing.

And before too much time passes, I owe a HUGE thank you for the support, nourishment

and sanity they’ve provided to all of us to Mike and Becky Wittrig, Cari Gustafson and

her family, Maura and John McConnell, Todd and Tara Baney, Lisa and Bill Groves,

Carol Ewton, Michelle and Steve Siegfried, Dawn Russell and her family, Robin Walter

and her family, Michelle and Bill Steudler, the CEE Faculty and Staff, Sean’s Research

Group and co-workers as well as Coral and Ethan’s teachers and classroom helpers and

probably many, many others. If I’ve spelled a name wrong (or had the name completely

wrong!) or left someone out, please forgive me and accept my thanks for everything

everyone has done for us—we SO appreciate it, and I personally couldn’t have made it

this far without you!!! I know Sean and Rachel share my feelings and will thank

everyone personally once things are “normal” again.

- Barb

940 am, Feb 24

MORE GREAT NEWS!!!! Rachel’s feeding tube was removed, as well, and they’ll start

her on liquids, today. She’s doing so great!! She’s getting her back pounded on

(percussion) to clear her lungs, and it left her a little breathless, but it’s another step

closer to “all better”! Ethan was so happy to be back at school and see his friends,

and we all made it with Coral to her bus without any drama, today—whew!!! It’s a

beautiful day!!

750 am, Feb 24

GREAT NEWS!!!! Rachel got her breathing tube removed, and she’s breathing on her

own, now!! WHOO-HOO!!! She also got to listen to all of us on the speaker phone

last night, and I think that made her very happy!! Will post more after the kids get

off to school and things settle down, but we are SO happy!!!!

- Barb

500 pm, Feb 23

Just talked to Sean a while ago, and Rachel has been resting, taking little cat naps all

day long. The big event for today was that they used a lift to get her seated in a

recliner, and she was able to sit up for while. Sean said the doctor poked his head in

this morning to tell her that she was very lucky. The doctor told her that she had the

same thing—her blood going thru toxic shock—that caused the death of Jim Henson,

the Muppet guy, and she’s doing remarkably well coming through it. She’s so strong,

and we’re so proud of her!! Sean said all of her doctors have been amazing, and he’s

so grateful. Sean also sounds much more relaxed, too, now that he can be with her,

and he’s even allowed to use his phone in the room so he doesn’t have to leave her

to update me. He said the goal for the next two days is to build up her core strength.

I know everyone wonders what the timeline is, and we really don’t know, but we do

know she’s getting better every day. I personally try to make myself be patient by

remembering it can take up to two weeks for a simple bruise to fade away. I’m sure

this toxic shock must have “bruised” her entire body, and it will take a little time and

a lot of prayers to be good as new, but I’m sure she will get there.

Robin Walter just came by with a wonderful dinner and got to see Ethan’s raspberry

from this morning, when he wasn’t running around with a blanket over his head!!

Thanks so much, and thanks, too, for the laughs about raising kids. Ethan really IS

just like Sean was at that age!! And Mike called to see how the kids were doing and

see if he could help with them while I visit Rachel—I appreciate that so much, and

I’ll talk to Sean. I told Mike the kids were running all over the place laughing, so I’m

guessing they’re OK, but I’m not so sure about me—just kidding!! Thanks so much

to everyone in the neighborhood for all your help—we SO appreciate it!!!!

- Barb

1030 am, Feb 23

Sean called to say that although Rachel still is has the ventilator tube, she was

breathing on her own for another three hours earlier this morning. She’s focused on

trying to get off the ventilator so she can talk, but she was a little more tired this

morning because of all the work she did yesterday, and that’s to be expected. They

corrected a slight kink in her right chest tube, re-stitched it, then drained off another

liter of fluid, and have been getting her to cough in order to help clear her lungs.

Sean says coughing is a little difficult and tiring for her, but necessary. She’s passing

LOTS of fluids, now, which is terrific news!! She’s asked to see me (it made me cry!),

so probably I’ll drive over this week sometime to visit with her. Sean is able to stay

with her as long as he likes, now, which is wonderful! She still has limits on

visitors, so be sure to email Sean and check if you plan to go over.

Coral is back to school, today, and seemed very excited about it! She carefully

explained to me everything about her routine last night, from what kind of lunch she

usually takes to exactly what goes into her red folder. And this morning before she

left, she inspected her lunch to make sure it was OK, and said, “Grandma, I only need

one cookie, two is too many—they’re a treat, you know—so you can put this one

back.” She’s so cute!! I met some of the phenomenal neighbors on the way to bus

stop, and Ethan and I took a little tumble when we tripped on a raised part of the

sidewalk, but we’re OK—just some little scrapes. We both cried just a little—we get

so emotional over the littlest things anymore. Everything seems more important

and everyone more special since just a week ago, and I’m sure I studied something

about that side effect of traumatic events at some point, but reading about it and

living it are worlds apart. I’m sure our “normal” will always be slightly altered from

what it was before, I’m sure there are many caring and wonderful people around us,

and I’m sure beyond doubt that prayer works (I thank you from my heart).

I just want to give a quick “shout out” to my friends and co-workers at White Sands

Missile Range—I miss you all, I worry about the work you might have to take on

because I’m not there to help, and I hope (no, I know) you understand. I talked with

Donna for awhile last night, and it was good to get caught up on the news—thanks

so much for calling, and thanks for understanding when I had to call you back

because it was bath time. I’m learning to be patient (is that a big whoo-hoo! I hear?),

and I’m learning to be humble while I’m reminded every day that there is nothing I

can do to “hurry” or “fix” this. And I’m reliving my past—30 years ago when I was,

for a brief time, a single mom with three boys aged 6, 4 and 2. It’s much harder,

now, and I couldn’t possibly do it without the fantastic support and help from all of

Sean and Rachel’s wonderful friends, co-workers and neighbors here in

Pennsylvania! I sure miss my New Mexico friends, too, and please know I’m

thinking of you and hope all is well with you!

- Barb

900 pm, Feb 22

Sean called and said Rachel has been moved to another room—she’s now in the

AICU, the Adult Intensive Care Unit at Geisinger. She’s being fed mostly through the

tube in her stomach, now, and she is steady enough to point to a chart and spell

what she wants to say. Sean senses a lot of frustration in her—she wants to be up

and about right now—and we both agreed we wouldn’t expect her to be any other

way. He’s been reading everyone’s emails to her, and she enjoys them immensely

and wants them read to her over and over! Until later, happy dreams!

- Barb

800 pm, Feb 22

I talked to Sean earlier this evening, and he said Rachel was able to stay off the ventilator

for about 3 hours today breathing on her own, and she did some limb exercises, too! This

afternoon, she motioned to Sean by moving her arms up and down, and Sean and the

nurse finally figured out that she wanted to exercise, again. She’s absolutely determined

to get stronger and get off the ventilator and out of the bed, so probably the next

challenge will be to make sure she also gets enough rest to allow her body to heal. The

kids are doing fine—Coral had fun over at Mike and Becky’s today (that was so sweet—

thanks so much!). I was waiting until maybe Sean called back to see if there is more

news, but not sure if he will—he wants to spend as much time with Rachel as he can, and

he has to step outside the CICU to call. I’ll close for now to put the kids to bed, and will

add more if he calls back. Thank you all so much for your prayers!

- Barb

9 am, Feb 22

Sean here again, back home for a few hours after just returning from the hospital where I

was visiting Rachel this morning. She is doing absolutely great, and followed me with her

eyes right as I walked in at 4:30 am this morning. We “talked” via her head nods, and she

let me know that she was not feeling much pain, that she was comfortable other than her

feet being a bit cold, which we fixed. Her improvement is awesome the past 24 hours,

and the nurses/docs are all elated at how well she is doing lately.

Now that she’s waking up, she’s started to ask questions, first about her mom and my

mom - whether they know about her, their plans, etc. I gave her all the details I could, and

she seemed relieved that I talk to both probably a half dozen times a day. She told me late

last night that she remembered everything I told her when we were just using “blinks”,

but this morning she was very curious about what had happened to her body this past

week, and what was next in store for her. And so I summarized everything that had

happened. There were multiple times that she seemed very shocked, probably most so

when I told her how the docs weren’t sure she was going to make it, and that roughly

60% to 80% of people who get this type of pneumonia combined with sepsis don’t make

it. (In fact, yesterday’s nurse mentioned that the list times she saw this was in a close

friend, and that he succumbed to this as well). Rachel was also shocked to hear about the

70 lbs of fluids they put into her, and I teased her for weighing more than me. Of course,

she didn’t think that was funny! She was also a bit worried about her stomach as she said

it feels sore, and I told her that right now there are no plans to operate and that the doctors

think her intestines will recover soon on their own.

Of course, she asked again about her class, whether her research group was doing OK, if

Peggy Johnson (her department head) knew everything, etc. I told her everything I knew,

that everyone knows what is going on, that everyone is helping out, that I have this blog,

etc. Rachel wanted even more detail than I could give (like which person was covering

which lecture, etc), but I told her I didn’t know and that she shouldn’t be worrying about

that now. Peggy just dropped by and said she would be visiting soon, so that should put

Rachel’s mind to rest.

As far as medical updates go: Her lungs had a bit more fluid drained this morning when

they were moving her, which is normal as her body is starting to shift over to secreting all

the fluids built up thus far. Some more good news: she’s on the minimum ventilator

settings possible, they are switching her over (slowly) from intravenous nutrition to

stomach-tube, and there’s talk that she may be allowed to breathe on her own in the next

few days. And actually, when I was there this morning and they were shifting her, her

tube came off (and HUGE alarms went on), and she just kept breathing like normal. That

made me so proud… she’s definitely getting stronger.

Since there’s at least a half-dozen MDs reading this blog, here’s some more detail: here

white blood cell count is now at 41, up from 37 yesterday pm and 34 yesterday am. This

is high, but her bands (neutrophils) are down to 3 from 4 yesterday, and so the blood

response is considered normal for the level of infection she went through. Her lactic acid

is still at 2, and her blood pressure is steady around 120/80 despite no meds, steroids, or

non-maintenance fluids. Oxygen levels are steady despite turning down the respiratory

machine to minimum levels, and she is at 40% O2 (the minimum setting for the

machine). Her liver enzymes are decreasing and almost at normal, and her kidney

function is good based on creatine levels. Bowel sounds are good. And digestion is good

based on tests of what comes out. So again, good news all around!

As for me and the kids, the kids are doing great under my mom’s loving care, and they

will be at school again tomorrow. That’s good, because they are literally bouncing with

energy from being confined this past week. I’m still having a bit of trouble sleeping,

despite getting some exercise yesterday. The hospital sent down a counselor to see me the

other day and she asked how I was coping, and I told her how this week reminding me of

swimming in the ocean. Whenever we visit a beach, I like to swim WAY out to sea,

several miles in fact until the waves rise around me and block the view of land. When I’m

so far out, alone, I often get that gut-level fear that I can’t make it back. And even when I

start swimming back, there’s a long time of swimming where it seems like all the effort is

leading to no visible progress… that land will forever be too far away, with only waves

trying to push me under. That’s what it felt like this past week emotionally: swimming

toward land, but with view of the beach appearing only briefly. Fortunately, I felt my foot

touch land this past day.

Even so, I still worry that she is not out of the clear, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be

completely “over” this. Last night’s 5 hours of sleep were filled with dreams of Rachel

reaching out for me. And I must have checked the clock 100 times during the night, not

wanting to miss seeing Rachel this morning at 4:30 am before they made me leave at 7

am. When I arrived finally at her bed-side, I could tell Rachel was also worried about

something. With only yes/no responses from her, I couldn’t answer her question for the

longest time. She kept pointing at the wall and finally held up 7 fingers with great effort,

and I realized suddenly that she was talking about 7 am. I asked if she was confirming I

had to leave at 7 am? She nodded a vigorous “yes.” I told her the rules of the hospital: no

cell phones in the ICU, no visitors other than immediate family/friends, no kids under 12,

no sleeping in the patient rooms, and no visitors from 7 to 11 am. She was sad, but then I

told her I was driving back today to check on the kids for at least an hour. She was quite

happy for a second, blinked, and then looked mad. I then asked her: do you want me to

stay longer with the kids? She nodded yes. Or spend more time with her? No. I told her

that I wouldn’t be able to be there for her, to read her slight signals that the nurses often

don’t see about her pain, etc… was she OK with this? Yes. I asked if I could come back

during the kid’s nap this afternoon, is that what she wanted? Yes. I finally asked if she

would promise to try to rest, and she nodded yes. I gave her a kiss, and then she held up

her hand pointing at me, and I asked if she had a question about me? No… and this time

with more pointing at me again. Are you trying to tell me you love me? A vigorous

“yes”!

What a wonderful day this has been! Though I’m sure she’ll be upset I spend this little

time typing, I had to share with everyone and the kids are eating a snack anyway. Also, if

you want to E-mail me messages to read to Rachel, please do so (I’m starting to read past

messages to her lately). She’s anxious to hear from each of you, and sends her thanks for

all the prayers, messages, and help so far. Thank you so much!

- Sean

845 pm, Feb 21

Sean just called to say Rachel is still awake and alert, can move her arms and legs a

little, and now nods her head up and down or back and forth or shrugs to indicate

her answers. She even put her arms down to try to lift herself a little, but

understandably can’t quite do that, yet. She really wants the ventilator removed,

but she’s not quite ready. The nurse told Sean that Rachel is now being assisted at

the lowest possible settings on everything, so that’s REALLY good news. So much

progress in one day!! He’ll stay with her for a little while longer, but said he won’t

call back again tonight because he wants us to rest, too. More good news tomorrow,

I’m hoping, and happy dreams to everyone!

- Barb

700 pm, Feb 21

I just spoke briefly with Sean. I called him for an update, and he didn’t answer so I

assumed he was with Rachel. I admit it still gives my heart a little pause not

knowing what’s going on when he doesn’t pick up right away. Anyway, he called

back, and yes, they were “talking”—she was awake—WHOO-HOO!! He said the

simplest (and most wonderful!) conversations take awhile because he does the

talking and she blinks, but she’s alert. He asked if she wanted to talk about

something in the room, and she said no. Did she want to talk about her illness or

treatment, and she said no. Did she want to talk about her students, and she said

yes. That made me smile—it’s so like her, so I know she’s really alert. Sean assured

her that he personally checked, and her classes and students are being covered, and

she relaxed. He said “here she is nearly on her deathbed and she’s asking about her

students, can you believe it?”, and I told him, yes, because he’d be exactly the same

way if it was him! He asked her if she was in any pain, and she said no. Then he

asked if she wanted the pain medicine decreased, and she said no. Did she want the

pain medicine increased? No. Did she want him to stay by her bed? Yes. Did she

want him to rub her back? Yes, so he did. She heard and knew Sean had gotten a

call, and Sean told her it was me, and she wanted to know that the kids were OK, and

that’s why he called me back. I told him they were fine, watching a movie and eating

a wonderful dinner that Dawn fixed and brought over along with Mike, and that I

saved some for him, too, for when he comes home. I told him that after the kids

found out this afternoon that mommy had opened her eyes, they were literally

bouncing off the walls in their play area downstairs. They just jumped and ran

around the basement for about a half hour, they were so excited. He said Rachel

would be so happy to hear that, and he was going back into the CICU to tell her. I’m

not sure I’ll hear from him again, tonight, but I’ll post an update if he calls. Your

prayers ARE working, and we are all so grateful!!!

- Barb

130 pm, Feb 21

Sean just called, and it’s the BEST NEWS!!!!!! Rachel opened her eyes!!! She was

very bleary and disoriented, seemed shocked by all the news of her illness, and Sean

explained she still had a lot of meds in her body that made it too hard for her to

move. With the tubes, she cannot speak, and she clearly was fighting them, but Sean

explained why she needed them and she settled down. He established a means to

communicate by having her blink once for yes and twice for no. He asked if she

could hear, and she blinked yes. She became very agitated when she found out that

Coral and Ethan had been sick, but Sean reassured her that they are fine, now,

jumping around and playing, and that grandma is home with them, and she

appeared very relieved. He asked her whether she had a lot of pain, and she blinked

a hard “yes” and started crying, so Sean asked the nurse to get her some more meds.

He explained to Rachel that when she’s on the pain meds, she’ll be asleep, and she

seemed torn as to whether or not she wanted them, but she clearly was in a lot of

pain. She seemed confused as to why she hurt so much, so Sean told her about

everything that happened, and he said she seemed to understand perfectly and calm

down a little. He explained most of her pain right now might be because of the

tubes draining the fluid from around her lungs, and that they will help her heal

faster.

A couple days ago, Coral sang Sean a song, and Sean said “why don’t we record you

singing it for your mom?”, which they did. Sean played it for Rachel, and the words

go, “I love you a hundred, a hundred and one, a hundred and two, a hundred and

three...I love you, I love and oh I know you love me, too, more than the stars that

twinkle in the sky, more than the grains of sand in the shimmering sea…I love you a

million, a million and one, a million and two, and million and three, oh I love you, I

love you and oh I know you love me too. ” and after the song ended, Sean said

everyone, including the nurse, was in tears it was so sweet. The nurse told Sean to

warn her when he was going to play it again. Sean said Rachel’s eyes followed him

whenever he walked around the room, and he is sure she fully comprehends what

she hears and sees. Then Sean sat with Rachel while the pain meds were

administered, and she immediately drifted off to sleep, again. Sean sounded SO

happy, and I’m so happy, too!!!!!

We just finished lunch, and the soup was outstanding! All the dishes we’ve received

have been big hits with the kids, and I personally think this neighborhood has some

of the best cooks around! Coral and Ethan loved the cupcakes, too—thank you Todd

and Tara, that was so sweet of you!! I know Rachel will want to thank everyone who

has helped us out, too!!

- Barb

11 am, Feb 21

Just want to update this so folks don’t start to get nervous. I haven’t heard from

Sean, so I called him, and he’s working out right now so I told him to go ahead and

keep exercising and I’d talk to him later. I’m glad he’s working off some of the

tension he’s had—I know he needs to just so he can relax, and I know, too, that the

CICU is basically closed to everyone between 7 and 11 each morning, so I didn’t

expect any real news until after 11 am. Andy, Sean’s stepdad, and Rachel’s friend

Debbie Apodaca both called this morning, so it dawned on me that normally I’ve

posted by now with the “overnight” news from Sean. As I told Andy, I was very

encouraged by the procedures they did yesterday—it’s a big step forward, in my

opinion. Anyway, I’m taking the kids over to Target and to gas up—want to take

advantage of the beautiful, sunny morning and clear streets we are currently

enjoying and just get the kids out a little. Thank you, Debbie, for your kind

encouragement and prayers, and thanks to everyone else as well—I know they

make a difference—and I’ll check in with Sean as soon as I return, probably in an

hour or so. Mike brought over some soup from the Siegfried’s that we’ll enjoy for

lunch—thanks so much!!

- Barb

630 pm, Feb 20

Sean just called with some updates about Rachel. The tubes were inserted, they

successfully drained off about ¾ liter of fluid near each lung, and it appears she is

breathing much better. Her respiration rate went from 44 breaths per minute to

roughly 22, likely due to the lungs being able to expand more. They’ll continue

pumping out fluid as long as the tissues are “weeping”—releasing the excess fluid—

and have taken her back into xray to determine if any large pockets remain. That’s

the last of what they plan to do today, so when the xray is finished, she’ll be able to

rest. Also of note is that when she was under the short acting anesthetic, she

exhibited a pain response during the procedures. They of course upped the

medication to give her relief, but they told Sean her reaction surprised them. They

didn’t anticipate she would be that alert, and it’s a good sign. You know, we hold

onto the little signs like a child holds onto an ice cream cone—so precious, so

wonderful, such a happy dance celebration!

Will post more tomorrow—wishing a safe and warm evening to anyone reading, and

we thank you so much for your prayers.

- Barb

400 pm, Feb 20

Sean is back at Geisinger after a quick run home to see the kids and get fresh clothes.

He called to say Rachel had a full CAT scan this morning—head, chest, abdomen—to

see what’s going on. She was groping around as they moved her, but is still not

responding to her name. Her head looked normal, but her chest and abdomen have

huge pockets of fluid, particularly under both lungs. They gave her a short acting

anesthetic to insert 2 drain tubes next to her lungs, a procedure not so much

surgery, more analogous to inserting tubes for collapsed lungs. She’ll have another

scan after the procedure to ensure the tubes are placed correctly. Her oxygen levels

were still OK, but not at a level where they can remove the ventilator. They are still

very gradually switching her from the nutrition tube to a regular feeding tube. Her

white blood cell count was 32 this morning, but up to 37 this afternoon, so they will

be giving her different antibiotics thinking the mixture she had before may have

upset the microbe balance in her intestines, and that may be causing her white

blood cell count to escalate. He said she is still carrying about 40 extra pounds of

fluid, and they found a little blood and protein in her urine, so they’ll be watching

her kidney function as well. They told Sean that all of this is not abnormal for

someone who was as sick as she was. She’s also been moved into a bed than gently

rocks her from side to side every 20 minutes to improve her circulation and prevent

sores. Sean will go back in and see her once they finish inserting the tubes, and

possibly he’ll provide another update later this evening—if so, I’ll be sure to post it.

Need to get back to the kids right now—I think Ethan is awake from his nap.

- Barb

930 am, Feb 20

Just a quick THANK YOU to Maura for shoveling us out this morning! Boy, the snow

is so beautiful, but I’m thinking it’s enough, now. Wouldn’t want too much of a good

thing! She and all the other neighbors (Mike, Lisa, Cari, Carol, Leslye and probably

others I don’t even know about) have been absolute godsends to us, and we

appreciate it SO much!! The kids and I went to the doctor yesterday for checkups,

and they switched Ethan’s meds to the same as the rest of us are taking. He now has

an ear infection, but otherwise everyone seems to be doing OK—just normal stuff—

and they should be good to go back to school on Monday. Sean called and is on his

way home to see the kids. I know he misses them so much, and it’s been so hard on

his emotions splitting his time between the ones he loves so much. He’ll be so

surprised to see the driveway all cleared for him—thanks, again! I’m sure he’ll do

another post, and as of last night, Rachel was still resting, which is good. I apologize

for not posting before I went to bed, but it was an emotional time for me—I had a

good cry after the kids went to sleep which I’m sure I needed—and I just couldn’t

write. We are all so impatient and hopeful she’ll come around and awake, soon, but

we understand it takes time after being through so much. Keep up the prayers, and

please accept our love and thanks for your caring and concern.

- Barb (grandma)

1230 pm, Feb 19th

Sean called with another update. Not much change in her response, but her

intestinal tract is kicking in, which is a good sign. First movement had some blood in

it, but the second did not, so they figure the first was just her system flushing itself.

They’re going to try her on a regular feeding tube instead of the nourishment

supplement they’ve been giving her, so they’ll be switching those out this afternoon.

Sean said a GI specialist will be checking her to make sure everything is OK. I asked

him if she was still intebated, as I couldn’t remember what had been removed, and

he said yes, she will be until she’s completed awake. That’s all the news at this time,

and I’ll update the post when Sean calls again.

- Barb (AKA grandma)

11 am, Feb 19th

The posting is a little late this morning because we all slept in a little, finally. Sean called

about 30 minutes ago and said as of last night, Rachel is more responsive and moves her

head toward him, but she’s not squeezing his hand nor responding to other simple

commands. He stayed with her till 1:00 am, and then returned to his room and slept

really well. He’s excited to see her today and understands she probably won’t be able to

talk or respond to commands for some time since it will take time to come out of the

effects of all the meds. He said the first order is to get her awake enough to be able to

evaluate any pain she might have as that would be an indicator of anything else that

might be wrong. He’ll give me a call once he’s able to see her this morning. Normal

visiting hours are from 11 am to 9 pm, and the staff doesn’t want anyone around between

7 and 11 am so they can accomplish their patient care.

The kids seem to be doing OK today—playing and not fussing as much—so I think they

are feeling better. Ethan had a tough time going down last night because he was just so

tired, and Coral crawled into my bed in the early morning hours asking if it was OK since

she didn’t have her alarm set to get up in the morning. She has another day home with

Grandma just to be sure we have 24 hours covered on the current antibiotic. Coral and I

(grandma) have appointments this afternoon for another checkup, so we’ll get

confirmation, then, that she’s good to go. I know Coral misses school and her friends,

but I feel better being too safe than sorry.

I heard an odd scraping sound this morning, and when I looked outside, Mora (forgive

me if the spelling is incorrect) was shoveling the driveway—thank you SO much. She

said she figured I wouldn’t know what to do with the snow, being from New Mexico, and

I told that her to me, snow is something we just look at and say, “gee, isn’t that pretty!”.

We don’t normally try to do anything but play in it unless we absolutely have to go

somewhere, and then we’d just wait a couple hours until it melted. For my co-workers at

White Sands Missile Range, we had enough “weather” here yesterday to have closed the

post and sent everyone home. I need to add for those in PA that I travel over the 5,700

foot San Augustin Pass through the Organ mountains every day to go to work, so a little

snow on the ground at home or work usually means unbearable conditions in the pass and

fills anyone who has to travel it with dread. It’s snowing again, today, but so far, no

accumulation. I’ve already seen more snow in the last two days than I’ve seen in the past

two years. And so you know, I so appreciate everything everyone has done for us.

Everyone has made it so much easier for all of the family to give our best to Rachel.

7 pm, Feb 18th

Just got back from the family doc… Coral is fine, but they switched her to the same meds

as Rachel just in case (since we know they work). Roads are fairly good, so I’m leaving

soon to see Rachel. Thanks to all who E-mailed me about the vehicles, it’s overwhelming

how many people are reading this. More news as we find out more.

- Sean

3 pm, Feb 18th

This is Sean again, unexpectedly back from the hospital. I rushed back after getting the

test results on Coral’s strep test from a few days ago – Coral is positive for the same

strep, same group that Rachel has. Freaking out, I asked mom to re-check Coral’s temp

again immediately, and she’s sitting and holding at 101.3. Though she’s acting normal,

her cheeks are definitely flushed. Worse, my mom who is watching the kids also has a

fever too, 101.2 an hour ago, 100.3 now even with ibuprofen taken an hour ago. We are

all going in again in a few minutes to see the family doc. Ethan and I tested negative, and

neither of us has a fever either. Mom is convinced it’s a girl thing. And despite being sick

herself now, she is trying to keep my hopes up. She jokes that perhaps we can inaugurate

a Brennan family wing at the CICU! I’m so glad she keeps me smiling despite this

horrible emotional roller coaster (and perhaps you all see where I get my perverse sense

of humor).

The good news is that they are trying to bring Rachel out. This may take hours, it may be

a day. It’s hard to tell as her liver function is way down, and based on how slow it’s been

so far, the nurse thinks it may be tomorrow before she’s responsive and can talk. I’m

hoping I can be there for her. I’m feeling really stretched now trying to be a good daddy

and husband. Between the two, I think any preventative measures with Coral are better

than me simply sitting there with Rachel, watching the wonderful care she’s already

getting. But still, it breaks my heart that she may come out this soon alone, looking for

me, with only the news that her daughter is also sick.

If I can be confident Coral is OK after this next visit, then at least the doctor can reassure

Rachel with the same news. And perhaps I can even make it back to Rachel’s bed-side to

help.

I may be looking for someone with a good 4WD vehicle to drive me there early evening,

since I want to leave our 4WD vehicle with my mom, just in case. If you are reading this

and can help, just shoot me an E-mail and phone number. I’m not sure what will be

involved with Coral, but if it involves the ER this may take a few hours and we’d be

leaving at 7 at the earliest. If the roads really stink, then I’ll most likely stay home (and

safe).

We love you all, and let’s hope this blog soon stops being a nail-biter...

- Sean

9 am, Feb 18th

I just heard from Sean with three updates. Rachel has been taken off the sedation

medicine at least for awhile. She’s exhibiting low response right now which is probably

normal since it will take several hours of wearing off to determine how she’s really

doing. She’s also been off the blood pressure meds for awhile, and her blood pressure is

completely stable now—great news!! Also, her lactic acid level is dropping. It was 2.2

today which they say is normal for sick people. As a reference, it was at 3.5 during the

day yesterday after dropping from 3.7 yesterday morning. I’ll post again when I have

more news, but what we have heard this morning is so encouraging!

11 pm, Feb 17th

This is Sean’s mom providing the latest update since Sean stayed in Danville tonight.

We all drove down earlier today in two cars so I could bring the kids back home, and it

was my first time to see Rachel. I understand from Sean that she looks amazingly better

—her color is coming back, and she’s not as swollen as before—but it was still such a

shock to see her so ill. It literally took my breath away, and it’s difficult to write about it

even now, but I’ll try because Sean asked me to. I talked to her briefly while Sean

watched the kids in the waiting room and told her how much everyone was praying for

her, how happy I am that she has such a strong will and to please keep being strong. I

think it helped the kids, too, to see the place where their mom is staying and hopefully

before too long they will get to visit with her. Sean called back just awhile ago to say he

fell asleep in the chair next to her bed holding her hand the way they often fall asleep,

and it’s the happiest he’s felt since she became ill. He said when he stroked her hair she

seemed to understand and have some expression in her face, and her hands and feet feel

warm, now. She’s completely off the blood pressure meds and is doing a lot of the

breathing on her own. The staff inserted a tube in her vein this evening to provide

nutrition and bypass the intestines in an effort to “starve” the bacteria causing the

infection there. As of today, she’s expected to be in the CICU for a week, and then two

to three weeks of recovery if all goes well and no surgery is needed. The kids are fine,

comparatively speaking. They are both coughing and on antibiotics, just to be safe, but

they seem sick in a refreshingly normal way. Sean mentions again and again how much

he appreciates everything everyone has offered and done for all of them. And from my

perspective, Sean and Rachel are truly blessed with amazing neighbors, friends,

coworkers and associates who have generous and loving hearts, and your prayers and

help have made a difference that this mom appreciates more than you could ever know.

Thank you to all of you and please keep praying for Rachel’s continued improvement.

12 noon, Feb 17th

We just returned from the Centre Medical, and though it’s just preliminary, Coral’s lungs

look pretty good to my untrained eye (especially since I’m comparing to recent

experiences with Rachel’s x-rays). Her blood work is getting done now, so we’ll have a

second route of confirmation too. Coral was so brave giving blood, and said she wants to

stay healthy for mommy. Based on my daughter’s active behavior, I think she will be

fine. If all this hadn’t just happened with Rachel, we wouldn’t be worried about her now.

Literally seconds before the needle went into Coral’s arm, we got a call from Dr. Walsh,

Rachel’s doctor at Geisinger. He relayed some wonderful news: They’ve been able to

wean Rachel off almost all her blood pressure medicines to where she’s down from three

different medications to just one, and even this is at relatively low dosages. Her kidneys

have kicked in quite well this morning and she’s now starting to really put out fluids, a

good thing because she’s gained 25 kg, roughly 40% of her original weight just in fluids

and meds they have had to put into her. He said it will be several days, but that her body

is already starting the process of flushing everything out.

The other great news is that, via recent blood work cultures that came back, they’ve

nailed the cause of all this in the first place: Group A streptococcus. This was the going

theory from near the beginning, and so the doctors did a great job figuring this out so

early and treating accordingly. If you jump online and read more, you’ll see that Rachel

was very, very lucky to have done so well fighting this.

Final bit of good news: the anaerobic infection was confirmed with the experts this

morning to be in large intestine, and the lactic acid release of this into the blood stream

seems to be slowing down. This might be because her circulatory system is kicking in

more normally now, that her body is trying to fight it, etc. The doctors are confident they

can beat that, and even have as a last resort the possibility that they can remove the

portion of infected intestine, if necessary. At this point, they don’t think that this will be

needed, and think that the “wait and see” approach is best.

So good news all around! Mom will be driving me over there permanently this afternoon,

as she wants to see Rachel too and needs to learn the route to the hospital anyway. Even

the weather lately is helping us out as the roads are perfectly clear, and we are getting

blue skies for the first time in quite a while. Rachel will be kept under sedation in the

ICU for at least another day, and I’m guessing at least until they are sure they don’t have

to operate. It would be awful to bring her out for a few hours, only to put her under again

for intestinal surgery. And they assure me it’s better for her pain and recovery that she

stay under during this hard time.

But the slope is very positive as is our spirits. This is the best “blog” I’ve yet been able to

post! Keep sending her your good thoughts and wishes!

– Sean

9 am, Feb 17th

Coral’s fever came back the past few hours, 100.3 steady temp. Normally would ignore

this, but on doctor’s advice scheduling chest x-rays for her now. – Sean

7 am, Feb 17th

Quick update since there isn’t much change: Rachel was stable last night, and based on

her body response, they say that physiologically she seems to have been sleeping the

whole night. I was able to finally get some sleep too (8 hours), and I think it’s sweet in a

way that she and I are still on the same sleep/wake cycle. They were able to reduce her

blood pressure medicines just slightly, again giving her more reserve and allowing her

body to transition just a bit more toward natural function. They gave no hint that she’ll be

out of this soon, which is telling me that we have a few more days of watching and

holding where we are.

They still aren’t sure about the source of the infection, but think that it might be in her

bowel area. This may be just speculation… they are bringing in a GI expert this morning

to consult. They were hoping to ID for sure last night, but didn’t find this until pretty late

last (around 9 pm) and everyone had gone home. The nurse said that they are most

concerned with identifying this right the first time rather than getting it out fast, if only so

they aren’t doing unnecessary procedures or meds when she’s so vulnerable. I wasn’t

able to talk with a doctor, so I’m sure I’ll find out more once he calls me back.

I’ve noticed that the night crew is noticeably reduced in manpower versus the day crew,

so it’s harder on the nurses that I’m constantly calling. They much more often tell me to

call back later. After the fourth “call back later” this morning, I think they could tell that I

was starting to freak out and told me that they were just busy giving her a bath earlier,

and so couldn’t leave her alone. The doc at the ICU last night said I could visit tonight

with some rules: 1) if I didn’t have a fever today and 2) strictly wore a face-mask. He

said I’d be fine since I’m only going to be sitting next to Rachel anyway, not going from

room to room. They reminded me again that they would prefer not to have visitors

coming through if given the choice, and that kids younger than 12 are strictly forbidden.

I’m really looking forward to seeing her, if only so that I can see what’s going on and

avoid the “everything is OK” filter that seems to naturally happen when I call in. The last

two times that I was briefly home and called back, I learned later that I wasn’t exactly

getting the straight news, or that they were telling me the status at that very moment. I

don’t fault them, as I’m sure it’s easy for them to forget that I may not be aware of crises

that may have happened just a few hours earlier.

The priority today is the kids, making sure they are OK and settled. Ethan had a very

rough time yesterday… this is the longest he’s been without his mommy since he was

born, and he’s definitely getting emotional about it, just collapsing in tantrums every now

and then. I completely understand and wish I too could just collapse when that feeling

hits, as it often does. Coral is doing better… she’s naturally more withdrawn than Ethan,

but I notice that she is snuggling me more often and hugging harder than she used to. On

the health front, she has no sign of the slight fever from yesterday. I’ll keep checking on

her. My sinus pressure went away, and I think the credit for that goes more to getting

some sleep than the antibiotics. So things are looking better on the home front too, no

doubt due to my mom being here and mothering us (she said she would send me to my

room if I didn’t listen to her!)

Of course, I’m going to be cautious today about making a decision to visit her, if I do.

I’m so torn about being near her if I could have any chance of causing her harm. But I

miss Rachel so much and want to know what is happening to her. I hope we know more

soon, but no news now is very good news for now. Keep sending her your love,

- Sean

6 pm, Feb 16th

Good news first: Rachel is still stable and for some time now they haven’t had to tweak

meds to compensate for fluctuations in O2, blood pressure, etc. So she’s now officially

listed as “critically stable”, which seems an improvement from whatever she was

classified earlier.

The bad news: there’s something new showing up in her blood that’s indicative of lactic

acid. They’ve been compensating for it, but they notice a steady increase in the

compensation required, which means that bacteria are growing somewhere that they

haven’t found yet. Talking with the nurse, the type of bacteria that do this are anaerobic,

so the only way they can survive in the body is that there’s some pocket of infection

somewhere walled off from the oxygen supply. If they find that pocket, and drain it /

surgically remove it / whatever, then the problem goes away. So they are hunting now.

Fortunately, anaerobic bacteria grow relatively slowly, so they think they can find it

quickly relative to the speed at which this can become a problem. The latest course of

action was a full body CT, looking for possible sites of infection. They pretty much know

it’s in the core somewhere since the blood supply from the extremities is so small, and so

the doctors are scanning primarily shoulder to hip looking for what might be causing the

blood chemistry changes. So she’s stable, they know what they are looking for, and are

taking steps to find it. This is all very good news, and I’m hesitantly optimistic at this

point.

As far as the original infection in her lungs and blood, the docs are almost sure at this

point that it’s some type of strep. I still haven’t heard any official news yet on the blood

cultures (they take a few days), but that’s the working hypothesis right now and explains

the rapid downfall, the devastation of the immune system, the lungs, etc. Related to this,

they asked that the whole family go in to check for pneumonia, strep, etc so that we don’t

get hit with the same thing she did. The kids and I spent the afternoon getting checked

with the family doctor, and we all came back negative for pneumonia and the quick strep

swipe test – which apparently only catches major cases. They are doing a culture now.

They did mention that my throat looks noticeably red, and hence asked that the kids and I

avoid school for the next 48 hours. We are all on antibiotic regimen now just in case.

Talking with Rachel’s nurses, they asked that I get some rest and not visit the ICU with

the possibility of strep, at least not until the antibiotics kick in, which will take at least a

day to day and a half. This is so depressing: the emotional part of me misses my soul-

mate and feels somehow that my being there can help, but the rational part of me

understands. They are not only worried about the other patients in the ward fending off

whatever is going around, but they said there’s undoubtedly other nasty bugs in the CICU

that I could very easily get if I’m up there with a compromised immune system myself.

They said they do not want two patients to care for instead of just one. It will be at least a

day until I can see her again. I plan to use this to catch up on rest.

Of course, I’m watching the kids like a hawk, checking their temperatures constantly.

Ethan and I have temps that look fine, but Coral is a bit elevated at 100.3, so I’ll be

watching her closely. Funny thing: when picking up antibiotics at Target, the pharmacist

recognized me from when I picked up meds for Rachel last Friday, and was surprised to

see the rest of the family getting antibiotics as well. I gave her the story, and she said that

they are going through antibiotics like crazy the past several days, that something bad is

sweeping through town. So if any of you out there are reading this and are “getting by”

with a chronic cold, watch your temps closely and see a doc if you have elevated temps,

even if briefly.

Again, thanks everyone for the outpouring of generosity. Our refrigerator is full, and

we’re starting to ship food over to the neighbors to borrow their freezer capacity.

Everyone has been so great with their well-wishes and offers of help, we couldn’t ask for

more. I’ll know more soon on the CT, and as always will share just as soon as I find

out…

- Sean

11 am, Feb 16th

Good news: Rachel’s condition is improving steadily. They were able to take her off a

very aggressive respirator system to something more natural (to avoid damaging her

lungs), and her vitals are still stable. They were also able to take her off the paralysis

medicine so she’s just under the equivalent of anesthesia, which is also a wonderful

improvement. She’s still completely unconscious and not able to communicate, but as

they were transitioning medicines, they were able to bring her out enough (temporarily)

that they confirmed that she’s responsive to her name, and can voluntarily move her arms

and legs. I can’t tell you all how happy I am even at this news.

I’m at home getting my mom ready to handle the kids on her own, but may be calling on

friends to help her with basics like finding the grocery store, etc.

This afternoon I’m taking myself and kids into the acute care center to get checked out.

Rachel tested positive this AM for strep and pneumonia microbes, so it seems the strep

knocked out the immune system which allowed the pneumonia to take over. The docs are

concerned that me/kids could be under the same teeter/totter situation and not know it, so

we’re getting tested. Immediately afterwards I’ll be heading back to Geisinger, most

likely to stay until Rachel comes out. (future posts may be from my mom).

Your prayers are working… thank you all!

- Sean

4 am, Feb 16th

I’m just getting back from spending the entire day at the CICU at Geisinger. Rachel had a

rough night last night (the 15th), with a team of doctors working on keeping her going.

Found out from one of the doctors later that they didn’t think that she would make it last

night, but that she is remarkably strong. Her blood pressure kept dropping down to 60/40

despite all the meds they could give her, and the trouble that they are having is that every

time they get the blood pressure stabilized, the oxygen levels go down and vice versa.

Apparently, the meds that help one hurt the other, so they were walking a tightrope for

quite a while. To make things more challenging, they can’t keep her at the level of meds

they have her on now, as they don’t have any reserve for when other stuff comes up.

Further, they can’t measure her oxygen well since all her limb circulation is so low, so

they are taking blood constantly to check for blood-gas.

As a systems guy, I keep thinking of competing feedback loops on a minimally

observable system, and just wish there were some optimal control algorithm that would

give the best balance as quickly as possible.

The docs are absolutely incredible, and I find it amazing how they have a network of

knowledge – constantly picking up the phone calling their colleagues around the country

to get details on the latest research (literally days old) on interactions between various

drugs. We faculty have a lot to learn from them!... Folks around here say that this is one

of the best CICU facilities in the country, and I can see why.

Right now Rachel is actually doing much better. Her vitals are stable, pulse is good,

oxygen levels OK, and they’ve even been able to back off a few of the critical meds to

give some reserve. So the day ended on a good note. The biggest indicator that she is

doing better is that I’m allowed to touch her again… up until around 2 pm today (the

15th), her vitals would all collapse every time anyone would move her. For a while last

night, one of the ways that they were stabilizing her was finding spots on her body and

torso to touch and lift to keep her going… it was almost mystic how they were hovering

over her and watching how every little move would affect the vital readings moments

later. Of course, she had a standing order not to be touched for unnecessary reasons. Now

that she’s doing a bit better, we were able to get her hair braided and cleaned up. The

doctors say that she’s away from the brink, at least for now. So that’s very good news. If

this trend continues, the docs say 3 or 4 more days in the CICU and she should pull out of

this.

The other GREAT news is that they are now able to detect an immune response, so her

system is finally starting to recognize the infection and is starting to make white blood

cells to attack. Go Rachel!

We also had a few visitors today – Aman and his family drove all the way out here to see

us. That was so sweet! I’m not sure they were ready for what they saw, as they seemed

very shocked at her state. The doctors were very nice and let them in see her briefly,

although right now no visitors are actually allowed (especially children) due to her

immune system being down and the fact that the room is almost wall-to-wall equipment

and tubes. For a while today they had her room sealed with a positive-pressure system,

but thankfully that was lifted by the time Aman and Cameron arrived. It was really good

for me to see some recognizable faces for a while.

As for me, I think the only way I’m handling it is remembering how she would want me

to be strong for the kids, and so I’ve been tucking away all the emotion. It’s really hard

sitting next to her, seeing that she is struggling so much, and being unable to help her.

I’m trying to be strong for her, but I can’t help just breaking down every now and then,

and I’m completely unable to sleep anymore. Since this all started 3 days ago, I think I

have had 8 hours, and each time I’ve been waking up sobbing in my sleep and of course

more tired than when I went down. The most relaxing thing has been the 100+ mile drive

each way, which reminds me of all the cross-country trips Rachel and I did together (one

of our favorite things when we were younger). The kids don’t really understand… I think

Coral might, but Ethan just thinks she’s on a trip. The neighbors across the street have

been amazing, helping out watching the kids, keeping the house going, etc. Of course,

Coral and Ethan love playing with their two kids (and toys! And cats!). The other

neighbors keep sending food, so the funny thing is that our refrigerator is completely

packed yet I keep forgetting to bring food with me on the trips there. Also, my mom

arrived from New Mexico just a few hours ago to help the rest of the week.

Finally, thanks for everyone out there who has sent such an outpouring of good wishes

and offers of help! We love you all so much, and I’ll try to keep this page updated

whenever I can.

- Sean

10 am, Feb 15th(first posting)

It’s with profound sadness that I’m sharing the news that my wife Rachel is quite sick.

The good news is that she is still alive.

We brought her to the hospital yesterday morning (Saturday) as she was running a fever

from Friday night, and had difficulty standing up without getting dizzy. They quickly

diagnosed a massive case of pneumonia, that her immune system had shut down due to

the level of infection, and that the infection was spreading quickly to remainder of her

lungs and surrounding tissue. Throughout the day yesterday her blood pressure and

oxygen levels kept dropping, despite massive infusions of fluids, antibiotics, and pure

oxygen. At about 3 pm, she was unable to continue breathing on her own, so they

induced paralysis and put her on a ventilator. Despite that, her oxygen levels continued

dropping, so they put her on a different type of ventilator with both positive and negative

pressure, and this was able to temporarily bring her oxygen levels back up to where they

could rush her to Geisinger in Danville. Throughout the night, they had trouble keeping

her blood pressure and oxygen levels, and around 10 pm her body had shut down

circulation to her limbs to the point where they had significant trouble getting blood

samples. But finally about 1 am they were able to stabilize her in the sense that nothing

seems to be getting worse.

Currently, she is still barely hanging on. The doctors still don’t know the cause, but hope

that we are past the low point. They say that, if nothing more comes up in the next 4 to 5

days, she will make it. They tell me she will most likely be kept paralyzed and sedated

for a week on the ventilator in intensive care, with possibly a few more weeks of

recovery after that. They said that, given her age and strength, she may pull out of this

quickly. But they also warned that, with her immune system shut down, she’s very

vulnerable. They told me to be ready for worse news, but that this was unlikely.

We have family flying in now from New Mexico to help with the kids, arriving this

evening.

I’ll be in the next week in the mornings, but will probably be in zombie mode and

focused only on keeping my classes going. Please accept my apologies that I’ll be

missing our meetings for some indefinite time from now. I’m also unable to reply to E-

mails when I’m away at the ICU.

Please keep her in your thoughts,

- Sean

Old page follows

 NOTE: this is truly a “portal” page. For more information about my group, please see the

research website below.

Website for research:

Research Lab website

 

My Department Page (Bio, Summaries, etc):

Brennan

Classes I teach or assist with:

ME415, Senior Design Projects (project advisor Spring 2006, Spring 2007)

ME450 , Modeling of Dynamic Systems (formerly ME440) (Fall 2004, Fall 2005, Spring

2006, Fall 2007, Fall 2008)

ME452 , Vehicle Dynamics (Spring 2004, Spring 2005, Spring 2006, Spring 2007,

Spring 2008)

ME456 , Robotics (Final projects in Fall 2004, Fall 2005, Fall 2006)

ME597D Advanced Mechatronics (Fall 2004, Fall 2005, Spring 2007, Spring 2009)

ME597F Advanced Vehicle Hardware-in-the-Loop Methods (Spring 2007, Spring 2008)

 

 

Conferences and Service Activity Websites I maintain:

The International Forum for Road Transport Technology

Archived Presentations from the 9th International Heavy Vehicles Weights and

Dimensions Symposium