We moved Patrick yesterday across the hall at NIH to his old Medical Oncology Inpatient wing. The ICU staff has been so generous and kind, and offered Patrick to enter hospice-like care there, but we felt it might be more comfortable for him and us to spend his last days in a more relaxed environment. I can't remember his room number, but he's directly across from the nurses station on the 3rd floor SE-N Med Oncology wing at NIH, should you want to visit. (Look for the colorful Christmas lights in his room, and you'll find him!) Several of his favorite nurses from when he was receiving chemo are taking care of him now, and it's been really wonderful to work with them again, weep with them as we watch his labored breathing, and together help make him comfortable. When our days at NIH draw to a close, it will be a tad bittersweet to say goodbye to all of these caring nurses who have become like family over the past few months.
His steroids have worn off, so he's not nearly as coherent or lucid as he was this past weekend. He slept most of the day yesterday, and only awoke when we moved him into his new room and then dressed him in his normal pajamas. (So long silly hospital gown!) Our hope is to make him as comfortable as possible, remind him how much we love him, and help usher him into the next life as gently and lovingly as possible. We have no idea how long this stage will take. He's in excellent shape, aside from his cancer-prone brain, so it may be quite awhile until he draws his last breath.