SICU

            I arrived by Amtrak and Metro Red Line around 8:15 p.m. last night. It’s strangely comforting to be far away from home, and on a Red Line. I was grateful that Jim had prepared me for the change in David. Looking into a brightly lit hospital room I saw a pale, other-worldly face with impossibly smooth skin and prominent jaw. Although David stirred and even spoke during the evening, he was incredulous this morning when Matt told him that I had visited.

            Today David was alert, with color in his cheeks. We had a constant stream of medical visitors at the SICU (surgical intensive care unit): the huge surgery team doing rounds, the GI team, the infectious disease team, an oncology fellow, a neurology resident, nurses and students.

            Matt had warned me not to come right into the room. In the hallway is a large plastic cabinet full of yellow paper gowns, grey gloves, and stiff blue face masks with thin metal strips to bend against the bridge of the nose.

            The protection is for us: as David announces, “I’m a bio-hazard.” C-diff is a serious infection; everyone suits up to guard against catching it and spreading it. The foaming hand sanitizer, de rigueur on the 5 West hematology/oncology ward, isn’t effective against C-diff; thorough hand washing is the best defense.

            David’s heart rate has returned to 120, but his respiration rate is high, so he will spend a second night in the SICU, where they monitor him carefully and treat him with extra fluids easily.

            Dr. Mo plans to do another bone marrow biopsy Wednesday or Thursday. If the results aren’t good, he will start more therapy immediately.