Cordon Sanitaire

Monday 23 April late evening

It was a hectic day and I am really exhausted. This morning, a company brought in an automated hospital bed, plus other accessories to accomodate home car for an incapacitated patient. This evening, a different company brought in four large cylinders, each filled with 4200 liters of liquid oxygen; four more are to follow tomorrow. This afternoon and in several telephone calls, I had to make sure all other arrangements were firmly in place and well-coordinated: transportation by ambulance, particulars about medical and personal care. I had to go out and buy single sheets that would fit the extraneaous bed (two sets) and have them washed and ironed by a laundromat.

Meanwhile Louise Doswald-beck, a close friend of Lara's from her ICRC-days, arrived at the hosue at 9:00AM straight from Gneva, while a few hours later, Janis Dolnick arrived at the house, from California. We all went to the hospital around 2:30PM. We found Jeff there, who had just wound up a good long stay with his sister.

What we found out was that while Jeff was in there, the hematology ward had decided to surround Lara with a cordon sanitaire or a security perimeter, for the lab had found a resistant bacteria in her (much the same way as last year during her third chemo). She was being isolated to protect the rest of the hospital from her. Since Jeff, unaware of what went on literally behind his back, was not wearing protective gear, he was not allowed to stay on the floor and could he please make himself scarce. The rest of us (Louise, Janis and I) all had to don coat, gloves and masques before we went in.

Louise and Janis had separate talks with Lara, and for Lara this was the first time in eight years that she consciously laid eyes on Janis. Meaningful encounters were had by all. I didn't actually get any alone-time with my wife, but I am betting on her home-coming.

I was running late for a cardiology appointment, scheduled for 6:00PM, but the good news is that I received a clean bill of health. "I like the sound of that", said Lara when I phoned her about the results (at her insistence).

She herself had changed oxygen gear. regular patients who receive oxygen receive to little nozzles up their nostrils (they call it the lunettes, or the spectacles). Instead, she now wears a plastic mask or cap with a plastic bag hang underneath which allows her to inhale hydrogenated air through her mouth and nose, as she breathes. The bad thing is she is terrified  of masks; the good thing is she has beterr oxygen uptake in her bloodstream.

But the running theme in all her anxiety is suffocation for lack of oxygen. She wanted to make sure (and asked me to call our GP about it), that a morphine pump does not cause asphyxiation. the answer was reassuring: no, on the contrary, it will allow you to breathe better. That word was all she needed.