After the results of the sweat test came out positive we headed to the hospital to meet with the pulmonologist and start treatment. We rushed over on Wednesday night. My memory is hazy; I think Mary Deane got a throat culture and we talked to the doctor but other than that I remember we had a lot of time to wonder why we didn't just come the next day.
We both slept in a one person slide-out chair, it worked because we turned on our sides. If we wanted to turn over it was a team effort. No matter where I moved one of my arms stuck out at an odd angle. After we shifted around and I found the least awkward angle for my arm we could drift off to sleep. (I snagged another chair from the hallway for the second night but they took it away before the third.)
No sooner had Mary Deane fallen asleep that first night when we heard two loud knocks on the door and a woman say 'Housekeeping!'. I think this was at 930pm, a half hour after we had finally gotten Mary Deane down for good. She woke up crying loudly. The look I gave that housekeeping lady as I shooed her out ensured that the only housekeeping we received the rest of the time was quiet and in the middle of the day.
When we checked into our room a nurse checked vitals and hooked Mary Deane up with all these wires and electrodes. I took them off before we put her down to bed because I figured she had made it this long without them. The first night we were still in shock, devastated, and confused. When someone would come in we would let them do whatever they needed done. We had nurses, pulmonary techs, housekeeping workers, meal deliverers, doctors, visitors (these were welcome), phone calls from hospital administration (which also happened right after Mary Deane was asleep, and on the loud room phone), and many other assorted hospital oompalompas.
We learned quickly and put up a sign for when she was asleep for the night or napping. After several showdowns I think we won the day because we got two decent nights of sleep and managed to keep Mary Deane on a satisfactory routine.
Saturday we received the good news that we could go home. She had improved enough to justify home care.
In conclusion, either I have an attitude problem or hospital organization is ridiculous. I think they make hospitals that way so you are encouraged to do everything you can to stay out of one. That being said we did meet some wonderful people that really helped us understand how to deal with the future.
Thank you for all of the prayers, visits, gifts, and more prayers. After a rough first day of educational introspecting, therapeutic crying, faith checking, and intestinal fortitude measuring, we have felt very peaceful. I know we are just getting started but I can echo what Ann said: We can do this.
Coming next: The treatment schedule