Anne: Emil was finally on the upswing. I woke up the next morning and, surprisingly, found that my first emotion wasn’t one of terror. His ICU doctor, a real booster for Emil, made it her mission to get him off the ventilator before the end of her ICU service week. She succeeded.
Emil: Five days after coming off the ventilator, I went to a rehab unit for reconditioning and to begin the long process of recovering my strength and stamina.
Most people say to me, “How awful for you! How terrible!” I smile and say, “Yeah, well, I missed all the excitement. It was really much worse for Anne.” I told them that, although you don’t recall anything while on the ventilator, you get retrograde amnesia for the several days prior to artificial ventilation. I have texts on my cell phone, written by me in those first few days, I don’t recall writing. Anne says we had conversations all the way up to my admission to the ICU; I recall none of those. Frankly, that’s for the best.
One thing to highlight is that your brain doesn’t stop working while you’re “out.” I had numerous vivid dreams, or whatever they were, while on the ventilator and after. Many were “bizarre and dark,” others were “dark and bizarre.” A few were amusing— in the end. I recall watching a TV news program segment describing how we donated our 2 little dogs to the Queen of England, who then gave them to her youngest son, Edward. I swear, I actually “saw” this TV program and watched the Queen and her son (and his wife) playing with our dogs. I was so convinced, I asked Anne where our dogs were; with her, of course. No, she assured me, we hadn’t given them to Queen Elizabeth II. Another conversation I swore I had with Anne was one in which she was telling me she was starting the vetting process to be a VP candidate for Joe Biden (Anne had been involved in Chicago politics so … not totally “crazy”). Nevertheless, I was quickly disabused of this one by my eldest daughter, also a lawyer.
Anne: This time, like the last time he was on a ventilator, Emil took a few more days to clear all the drugs keeping him sedated. Last time, his medical center sent his colleague, the Chair of Neurology, to check on him because there was a concern that he wasn’t “clearing” fast enough. This time, I was the one reassuring the doctors and nurses to be “patient.” At the same time, I was disabusing him of his far-fetched idea that he was head of all research at OSUMC and head of the ICU. He told me, “I don’t understand it. Don’t these people know they work for me?” “No,” I told him. “You are a patient there, and you need to behave.” Aside from that, Emil was fairly lucid. As one of his nurses said, “He’s oriented, he’s just wrong!”
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