So, I get there on Friday morning at 10am ish and his nurse relays the following story to me:
His surgeons, including Dr. G, who was the attending surgeon who lead his most recent operation, were there at 8:30 for the extubation--respiratory therapy was there, nurse was there. Nurse was ready to go. Tube comes out and .....nothing. no breaths. They start "coaxing" him "COME ON, BREATHE, DAMMIT!" He takes a few quick breaths, then....nothing.....nothing. Few more breaths.....nothing. They emergently push some Narcan into his veins and he immediately opens his eyes wide and takes some breaths. and continues to breathe. no more problems. every one else exhales.
Seriously, Ryan. enough.
I'm just glad I wasn't there for that.
The end of the story is that he's doing great now--he just got a wee bit too much dope overnight the night before. He's breathing comfortably now and he even had a big huge poop, so now they should start feeding him. he looks really good, but is clearly in some discomfort from the incision in his belly--of course after the stunt he pulled in the morning, no one is too excited about giving him any pain medication. I did ask the surgeon if he could have just a little morphine for pain, like a fraction of a dose--so he does have that available now if he needs it.