The morning after Josh’s back ripped open, the wound vac was alerting us that it was clogged. By this point, we had been in the hospital almost two months, and I had passed my crash course in nursing. I knew enough about IVs, PICC lines, and other equipment to at least know when they didn’t function correctly. I began squeezing the tube to the wound vac, thinking that maybe it was just backed up somewhere. The beeping would stop and the tube made its normal sound for about twenty minutes, and then it would start alarming again. I told our nurse that the wound vac was clogged, and I couldn’t figure out where the issue was. Several hours passed and no one came to change the wound vac. When I went to check the status of the wound vac change, she informed me of a new hospital policy that only doctors can change wound vacs. Can I just say that I cringe when I hear the word policy sometimes? My life experiences have led me to believe that policies are an invitation for me to find all the loopholes so that I can do what needs to be done. I rolled my eyes and said, “Well, when can a doctor come up here? This machine is beeping every five minutes.” Our nurse said she was working hard to get someone up to our room. After about five hours, the wound vac was getting zero suction. Of course, this was happening on a surgery day (still every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday), so none of the doctors were available. The nurses were working tirelessly to get someone up to our room, but it was all hands on deck in the OR. However, we were told repeatedly that there was nothing to worry about. I was thankful something like this didn’t happen over the weekend while we were at Building 62. Maybe if the nurses had to be annoyed with this beeping like I was, they would get it fixed faster.
Finally, very late that night, a doctor we had never met came and fiddled with the wound vac and Josh’s bandages. No doubt this guy lost a game of paper, rock, scissors for this job; he was a super young guy, and it was obvious he had not been allowed to do much on his own. The sponge was not changed but the tank was emptied, the tube was adjusted, and the machine was reset. Thank goodness. Now I can get some sleep. About 1:00 a.m. the machine started beeping again. I was officially frustrated. We alerted the night shift nurses and tried to sleep through the beeping. Annoyed as we were, we managed to get a couple of hours of sleep that night.
The alarm clock the next morning was the wound vac again. Aware of how much time had gone by with no suction in the wound, I start thinking about the fact that the whole sponge and vacuum needed to be replaced. The sponge had to be saturated by now. I really wanted to hurry and get this done before the evening, because Josh was going to speak on a live feed at his home church, North Glencoe Baptist. They were having a revival night called “The Vibe.” There would be music and worship, and then Josh would speak on a live feed from a projector. We had set up the Wi-Fi and computer in my and Cathi’s room at the Fisher House, a room that I might get to leave soon, because after the live feed, we were headed back up to Building 62 to check out our potential room assignment. We got Josh showered, shaved, and clothed. We sat around all day just in case a free doctor could come up to our room, but the wound vac did not get addressed. The medical staff wasn’t concerned with its beeping and lack of suction at that point, so we headed to the Fisher House to get ready for the live feed. We set up and tested the Wi-Fi, got Josh ready, and made sure all systems were a go. Waiting to get started, I noticed Josh was looking extremely fatigued and a little green. When I asked if he was okay, he said he just wanted to lie down. About thirty minutes before the live feed was supposed to start, Josh began shivering and sweating with fever. It was Nana’s week to come visit, so she, Cathi, and I laid hands on Josh and started praying. About five minutes before the event, Josh’s fever broke,
