I sometimes hate that I know so much. I am not a RT or a RN or a PT, OT or even a CNA. But I am all of those and more to my husband. I know what drugs he takes at what times and what they are called (both brand name and generic), I know the ventilator settings and what time they are changed, I have been given control of the suction (not of his lungs, but of his mouth), I can move him fairly easily if needed and I know which muscles need a little more work out than others.
The doctors look to me when they are doing their rounds. They ask me about neuro status, secretions, sleep cycles, lab results...while the RN (who is wonderful, by the way) scrambles through her paperwork to find the correct answer.
But more than that,
I know that he likes to sleep in on Sundays, that he makes the best breakfast in the world, I know what music he likes, I know that TV is not his thing, I know that the smell of lavender makes him rest, I know that he needs a moment to wake up before he will respond(even before this), I know that he will not respond to people that don't give him some of their time, I know that he sometimes moves more muscles when he is sleeping than he does when he is awake, I know that he is more responsive before noon and after 3, I know that if I say his name he WILL wake up for me, I know he what he is capable of and most of all.... I KNOW that HE KNOWS.
He knows what has happened, what is happening and that I will be by his side doing what is going to happen.
I do, I know.