Daddy had a good night even with all the frequent wake-ups. His blood-pressure dipped again and they gave him fluids to bring it up, but he slept well. (So did I, especially after I ate some of Dave's fantastic stew—with a little Chimayo chile in the beef dredge—and a big glass of the wonderful red.)
His white count is down but he still has a low fever. But the big news is that the blood cultures came back and they know what the bug is now: streptococcus G group. (They swabbed last night for MRSA which I have learned to be very afraid of, so streptococcus sounded better than staph to me.) It's one that is responsive to antibiotics (duh, that's why his white count is down.)
They believe now the infection came from the leg injury.
Dr. Platt came by and explained his main concern: The strep bacteria can travel in the bloodstream and "colonize" other parts of the body, and the replaced valve is especially susceptible to infection. So he wants to be absolutely sure that it is gone before he even thinks of the heart surgery.
They're sending an infectious disease specialist in today, and Dr. Musselman will come by too.
Although the prognosis is good, Daddy will be in the hospital for awhile. He needs IV antibiotics and he is still very unsteady—needs a walker to walk. The physical therapist came by today and is working on that.
Meanwhile, the antibiotics are wreaking havoc on his digestion. And the main challenge is to Dad's spirits—he hates the hospital, is uncomfortable in the bed and is bored, bored, bored.