Steve Cochran took his last breathe around 2pm this afternoon. He fought a long hard battle, albeit short and sudden to us. He was surrounded by his brothers, sons, wife, and other family. We miss him so much but know he is resting peacefully in Heaven
Friday and this morning were tough days. When all seemed to be going better, his lungs took an absolute nose dive. By the evening he was on 100% oxygen and being artificially kept alive. Once the family arrived, we decided not to prolong a suffering life.
Such a fighter, amazing father, and loving friend.
We'll update again with details about the viewing here soon. I'm sorry to be brief, but please email me with questions about his last days.
Love
Jeff
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
On the upswing
Lots of development since the last post. I visited Mom at the hospital around 10am today and the doctors happened to be making their rounds at that time. Dr. Roe walked in and made a very warm introduction. After a few minutes of pleasantries, he cut to the chase. The transplant committee met Wednesday night and had made its decision about the course of action:
Overall - he is a prime candidate for transplant, but he needs to pass some preliminary tests beforehand, including:
1. Heart cath to ensure the arteries and ventricles are strong, to be done Thursday afternoon around 2pm.
2. Colonoscopy to ensure he had no polyps, anticipated for Friday morning.
3. If passing, the transplant board would review the results, talk to the insurance, and submit his candidature by the weekend.
**About the lung transplant: Steve's blood type 'A' is one of the rarest in America, so finding donors won't be easy. However, the severity of his disease puts him toward the top -- if not at numero uno -- for recipients in the nation**
The report was quite sobering, although graciously earnest. Dr. Roe even said that he was delivering this news with "cautious optimism", a metaphor of the precarious position we find ourselves in. Steve's lungs continue to decline and each passing day that he sleeps while on heavy sedation and steroids is another day of gradual muscular atrophy. Plus, the longer he stays on a ventilator the harder it will be to wean him off post-transplant. There is a narrow window of opportunity, and they're doing everything in their power to hit the mark.
So, after discussing contingencies, Mom and I broke for lunch. Other friends were going to visit that afternoon so I headed back north and worked the rest of the day. I didn't see Marian again until this evening around 7:15. Since I hadn't heard from her I assumed the procedure (heart cath) went smoothly. I was right...he passed solidly...and even more encouraging news followed. It seems that since Steve had a colonoscopy within the last couple years, they are going to skip tomorrow's scheduled test and go right toward getting him on the list.
We ended tonight on a positive note. The Griffins drove back with Marian to the house and we had a nice dinner (a small array of food delivered previously to the house by friends -- we are too lucky!). Marian said that Dr. Roe made another round toward the end of the evening and his tone was much more optimistic. The atmosphere felt light and uplifting. Then, at 9pm, Papa and Minerva arrived. It was like a small family reunion. Laughter and dessert ensued.
A final word and important detail: Steve will most likely stay sedated until after the transplant. He also will not be getting a tracheotomy for risk of infection. We aren't out of the woods, but it was a relief to see some light. THANK YOU all for your prayers, calls, and letters. We continue to believe.
Overall - he is a prime candidate for transplant, but he needs to pass some preliminary tests beforehand, including:
1. Heart cath to ensure the arteries and ventricles are strong, to be done Thursday afternoon around 2pm.
2. Colonoscopy to ensure he had no polyps, anticipated for Friday morning.
3. If passing, the transplant board would review the results, talk to the insurance, and submit his candidature by the weekend.
**About the lung transplant: Steve's blood type 'A' is one of the rarest in America, so finding donors won't be easy. However, the severity of his disease puts him toward the top -- if not at numero uno -- for recipients in the nation**
The report was quite sobering, although graciously earnest. Dr. Roe even said that he was delivering this news with "cautious optimism", a metaphor of the precarious position we find ourselves in. Steve's lungs continue to decline and each passing day that he sleeps while on heavy sedation and steroids is another day of gradual muscular atrophy. Plus, the longer he stays on a ventilator the harder it will be to wean him off post-transplant. There is a narrow window of opportunity, and they're doing everything in their power to hit the mark.
So, after discussing contingencies, Mom and I broke for lunch. Other friends were going to visit that afternoon so I headed back north and worked the rest of the day. I didn't see Marian again until this evening around 7:15. Since I hadn't heard from her I assumed the procedure (heart cath) went smoothly. I was right...he passed solidly...and even more encouraging news followed. It seems that since Steve had a colonoscopy within the last couple years, they are going to skip tomorrow's scheduled test and go right toward getting him on the list.
We ended tonight on a positive note. The Griffins drove back with Marian to the house and we had a nice dinner (a small array of food delivered previously to the house by friends -- we are too lucky!). Marian said that Dr. Roe made another round toward the end of the evening and his tone was much more optimistic. The atmosphere felt light and uplifting. Then, at 9pm, Papa and Minerva arrived. It was like a small family reunion. Laughter and dessert ensued.
A final word and important detail: Steve will most likely stay sedated until after the transplant. He also will not be getting a tracheotomy for risk of infection. We aren't out of the woods, but it was a relief to see some light. THANK YOU all for your prayers, calls, and letters. We continue to believe.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Email a Patient: Methodist eCard
If you would like to send a message to Steve, IU Health has a cool service called eCard for Patients. Following the link below. Be sure to drop-down the arrow to "Methodist".
Email a Patient
Thursday, 2/9 Addendum -- THANK YOU to all who have written!! Your overflowing support is quite moving to us. Some of you jokesters are even making us laugh now and then. Seriously, we greatly appreciate it.
Email a Patient
Thursday, 2/9 Addendum -- THANK YOU to all who have written!! Your overflowing support is quite moving to us. Some of you jokesters are even making us laugh now and then. Seriously, we greatly appreciate it.
Roller coaster ride begins
The best thing we can do for our sanity is to accept the present situation as is. Sometimes that is easy, such as when we're bed-ridden at home with a fever but resting comfortably on the sofa with a handful of movies. Other times it is not so easy, as when we're stuck in traffic or at an airport with a dead phone and no snack.
Steve finds himself in more of the latter situation these days, begging Marian to get him out of entubation. He has done a much better job of battling his fever, although some inflammation still persists in his lungs. The docs says his lungs require a little more oxygen, so they are going to move him into isolation to ensure that he doesn't contract any more virus/bug that might slow the recovery process. The cultures taken from both bronchoscopies are "negative," which means that no new pathogens are in the lungs. However, they still don't have a conclusive reason for his recent spike in temperature. Most likely he was just all hot and bothered by the tubes, although some bug might have caused the pneumonia.
UPDATE at 1:45pm
The fever has gone down but his oxygen pressure (PEEP) has also gone down, meaning they needed to increase his O2 intake to 80%, up from 40% yesterday. The docs think that his left lung is much more inflamed than his right. They are increasing steroids to reduce this inflammation, which is the last step before the tracheotomy.
Steve finds himself in more of the latter situation these days, begging Marian to get him out of entubation. He has done a much better job of battling his fever, although some inflammation still persists in his lungs. The docs says his lungs require a little more oxygen, so they are going to move him into isolation to ensure that he doesn't contract any more virus/bug that might slow the recovery process. The cultures taken from both bronchoscopies are "negative," which means that no new pathogens are in the lungs. However, they still don't have a conclusive reason for his recent spike in temperature. Most likely he was just all hot and bothered by the tubes, although some bug might have caused the pneumonia.
UPDATE at 1:45pm
The fever has gone down but his oxygen pressure (PEEP) has also gone down, meaning they needed to increase his O2 intake to 80%, up from 40% yesterday. The docs think that his left lung is much more inflamed than his right. They are increasing steroids to reduce this inflammation, which is the last step before the tracheotomy.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Case of the Mondays
Not much to report today, except that even in critical care one can have a rough day. The goal of the day was to accomplish many of the tests the docs needed to do before extubating. Steve had been doing really well since yesterday evening considering the ritual waking, sleeping, waking, drugging to sleep. The movement of his extremities was going well -- at one point last night Steve had even crossed his legs in triumph as the Giants marched down the field -- although his fever had still not yet subsided. Upon leaving the hospital last night around 10:30pm, Marian said he was growing increasingly agitated. Who wouldn't want those stupid, albeit lifesaving, tubes out of your throat?
But, despite all the consoling, reality didn't sink in well. At one point he even bit into his breathing tube. They quickly patched it up and, as a consequence, he was sent downstairs for a CAT scan. Furthermore, in his increased state of anxiety and agitation, the docs didn't believe he could control his breathing on his own. So, not necessarily to be interpreted as a step backward but just not the most ideal of situations, Steve will be operated on this evening or tomorrow for a tracheotomy. He won't have as much liberty to move around, but at least he should feel much more comfortable.
We honestly have anticipated this expression of anger/agitation, as we think he steps closer to acceptance of his condition. His behavior could also be explained by simple confusion, although Marian told me that he was about ready to slap her around if she mentioned another time the fact that he'd been in a medically-induced coma. Nevertheless, we expect some dark days of psychological stuggle, but at least Steve has the corner office, the President's suite, or whatever you want to call the biggest room in CVCC with all the windows.
A small hiccup today, so let's pray for a smooth operation tomorrow and for the pneumonia to finally be sweat out. I also request prayers for Marian, as she continues to pull 10+ hour days in the hospital. I'm sure her adrenaline is making it seem easy. Thanks to her friends who have been taking her out to dinner!
But, despite all the consoling, reality didn't sink in well. At one point he even bit into his breathing tube. They quickly patched it up and, as a consequence, he was sent downstairs for a CAT scan. Furthermore, in his increased state of anxiety and agitation, the docs didn't believe he could control his breathing on his own. So, not necessarily to be interpreted as a step backward but just not the most ideal of situations, Steve will be operated on this evening or tomorrow for a tracheotomy. He won't have as much liberty to move around, but at least he should feel much more comfortable.
We honestly have anticipated this expression of anger/agitation, as we think he steps closer to acceptance of his condition. His behavior could also be explained by simple confusion, although Marian told me that he was about ready to slap her around if she mentioned another time the fact that he'd been in a medically-induced coma. Nevertheless, we expect some dark days of psychological stuggle, but at least Steve has the corner office, the President's suite, or whatever you want to call the biggest room in CVCC with all the windows.
A small hiccup today, so let's pray for a smooth operation tomorrow and for the pneumonia to finally be sweat out. I also request prayers for Marian, as she continues to pull 10+ hour days in the hospital. I'm sure her adrenaline is making it seem easy. Thanks to her friends who have been taking her out to dinner!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Moving the chains
As much as I thought Dad was waking up yesterday, today was a day of true movement. The docs felt good enough upon examination of his condition this morning to reduce his sedative, allowing him more opportunity to breathe in his own. It also causes him to be more conscious, and Steve really woke up.
When I arrived around 2pm, the nurse was instantly pushing us out. Seeing us would have pushed his already struggling body over the top, so we ducked into the waiting room. When my mom stepped in, she said he was really coming awake and simply way too flustered to deal with people. But, it was great to hear that he was wiggling his toes, moving his hands, and otherwise responding to commands. A physical therapist was even starting her work in reducing the swelling.
So the plan from here is clearer. The dics want to decrease his steroids and slowly wean him off the ventilator. He might just be strong enough to breathe without need of a tracheotomy. He does still have a fever, evidence of a lingering pneumonia. Once he beats this illness, the docs will begin running their tests needed to prove he is good for transplant. Those are the two levels he needs to surpass before the new pair of pipes could arrive.
They also are changing his steroids, although I'm a little hazy on those details. In the end, Marian is growing more confident. The docs have a good plan and dad is dealing as well as can be expected. I wasn't allowed in the room today for fear of emotional overload, but that's ok. If I were in his shoes I wouldn't want him there either (I mean that with all respect and love)! The next baby steps will be taken with his bride by his side, the nurse he listens to the best. Not too worry, Marian is being well looked after. She hasn't had to cook in over a week and is eating very well. I have a feeling she will be putting in long hours the next few days, but I have promised to grab her and escape for a ritual evening drink.
Thanks to all who have left comments and sent emails to us. Your prayers are working! Not many visitors will be permitting in the next few days, so I'll be sure to pass along any messages you have.
P.S. Go Giants!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Fwd: Was that a blink or a wink ;)?
>
> When Marian, Cindy, and I arrived at the hospital, Steve's eyes were open. The nurse said it was because of the swelling, which there is all over. But it also the effect of lowering his sleep agent, which the docs did because his breathing had been really solid recently. As so, his consciousness is coming back and for the first time in about a week, Dad showed us some emotion. He shed a few tears and turned his head just a bit. The event was special and his elevated breathing and pulse proved it. The nurses were cautious, though, and quickly increased his sedative. That first realization of condition for anyone awaking from anesthesia is a big moment, and Steve handled it well.
>
> He continues to open his eyes and is showing more signs of vitality. Our next goal is to get him to squeeze our hands. The docs are going to take an ultrasound of his right arm to make sure the swelling isn't extraordinary. They are also going to take an EKG to ensure all flow is solid out of the heart.
>
> The "waking up" process has begun. He needs to start taking breathes without aid of ventilator, which might necessitate a tracheotomy. We don't know when that will be but each reduction in propophal means Steve is going to be forced to take those baby steps toward regaining his breathe. His brother Doug made it today, as well as his good friend Mike Griffin.
>
> Sent from my iPhone
> When Marian, Cindy, and I arrived at the hospital, Steve's eyes were open. The nurse said it was because of the swelling, which there is all over. But it also the effect of lowering his sleep agent, which the docs did because his breathing had been really solid recently. As so, his consciousness is coming back and for the first time in about a week, Dad showed us some emotion. He shed a few tears and turned his head just a bit. The event was special and his elevated breathing and pulse proved it. The nurses were cautious, though, and quickly increased his sedative. That first realization of condition for anyone awaking from anesthesia is a big moment, and Steve handled it well.
>
> He continues to open his eyes and is showing more signs of vitality. Our next goal is to get him to squeeze our hands. The docs are going to take an ultrasound of his right arm to make sure the swelling isn't extraordinary. They are also going to take an EKG to ensure all flow is solid out of the heart.
>
> The "waking up" process has begun. He needs to start taking breathes without aid of ventilator, which might necessitate a tracheotomy. We don't know when that will be but each reduction in propophal means Steve is going to be forced to take those baby steps toward regaining his breathe. His brother Doug made it today, as well as his good friend Mike Griffin.
>
> Sent from my iPhone
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