No Big Deal
Once I finally was alive enough to be returned to my room in the acute care unit, the only thing on my mind was, When can I get back down to the Rehabilitation floor. I expected a two day delay, for post surgical observation, but that wasn't in the cards for me. Others had different plans. This in hindsight was several of the tender mercies of being watched out for and not understanding reasons, until things played out.
I was attacked all week by doctors from the neurology team, and added to that because of the infection, I was now to be bombarded by the Infectious Disease Team. So let me introduce, not only my ponytail but my leash (IV Pole). I can't even tell you what was being pumped into my arm, all I know, I would get about a twenty minute break every six hours before starting the next round of we are going to kill whatever and anything inside your system. I can tell you that three days of Vancomycin pushed through the same IV port, which miraculously was still working and hadn't collapsed, hurts like crazy. So first off, props to the nurse who placed the IV, perfect stick!
Day three came and went, there I sat, actually laid, still waiting to be moved. Now I'm being told I need to wait for an ultrasound, test for blood clots. The technician came late afternoon, with his student (Huge Miracle). The technician asked permission to allow the student to perform the test, and at the same time asked permission to take their time.
It was explained to my wife and I that a normal test of this nature usually took twenty minutes scanning from the hip to the knee, since there had been no complaints, signs or symptoms, it was very simple. The student completed the basic assessment, and the technician asked permission to continue down the leg for some extra teaching. As they began to scan just below the knee they found a cluster of blood clots, then found more down mid-calf. The technician asked to test the other leg, and yup, found small clots just above the ankle.
The miracle here was having the student and a good technician teacher, who went the extra mile. I had no feeling in that leg, so I didn't feel any pain.
Of course this slowed the process of getting back to rehab. Now introduce the thrombosis team. The next morning they were in my room scheduling me for ANOTHER procedure. They wanted to put a filter inside the vein to block the clots from traveling, because I wasn't able to start treatment until everything balanced out. So again I started my presurgical starve, and early afternoon of day five I was wheeled down for a filter insertion.
This became my terrifying entertainment procedure. I spoke with the anesthesiologist prior to the procedure, there were a ton of red flags all over my chart by now, and she decided to do a light sedation, just enough to help me relax. Which at the beginning I felt much better about, but...
Remember how before how having a student was the miracle, yeah not so much this time around. It was explained to me that the incision would be at my jugular vein, and they would track down through my heart down through my liver and end up in the femoral vein to place the filter, then they would backtrack and be done, won't take more than about 30 minutes; ending with the most popular words of my hospital adventure, "No Big Deal."
I was lightly "relaxed," and the game began. The doctor (student) made the incision and grabbed the clamp. Everytime he would adjust the clamp, I winced or gulped. This freaked him out a little, "Why isn't he out?" The doctor asked. "He has been sedated." Came the immediate reply. "He is just light." Once the initial panic eased onward they went. The entire time I am listening to the conversations, trying not to laugh at the jokes, or cringe at the corrections.
"STOP STOP STOP!" The doctor/teacher yelled, "BACK UP SLOWLY. BACK UP." This did great for my already elevated nerves and anxiety. I froze, stiffer than I already was, strapped down to the table. The next few minutes, seemed like hours, there was a lot of shuffling around and asking for towels.
At last I hear the words, "Got It. Now we can begin the exit." Thankfully that went without a hitch. About 10 minutes to being finished and closing the incision my IV was switched to fluids to begin flooding out the sedation. I was reminded several times to lay without moving until everything was finished. It didn't take long for the meds to wear off, and they began removing the tent they had built. As I was finally allowed to turn my head, the first thing I noticed was all of the blood splatter all over the ultrasound machine above the table, and then all of the red towels on the floor.
The sidebar conversations from the nurses and technicians confirmed my suspicions. "That was interesting and fun."
The thoughts going through my mind, were less than Christ like.
I got back to my room two hours after leaving, so of course my poor wife was stressed. She was told, down and back 45 minutes, not 120 minutes. We ended the evening off with another blessed hospital meal, and looking forward to getting down to the rehab floor, now that "everything" was in order.
But nope we still had two and a half days of waiting. I was now under the care of: Neurology; Infectious Disease; Thrombosis and now we added the Rehabilitation team to be able to re-admit me to their floor. So we sat, While we waited for all of the different teams to communicate we "enjoyed" a few days "relaxing" in the hospital. We learned the final delay, was waiting for an open bed on the rehab floor, so we sat and waited. The nursing staff was awesome, they felt bad for the chaos, so they tried to leave us alone all they could. Only pestering us to change medications, even skipping vitals except the mandatory twice a day. It was nice, it was the most time I had spent with just my wife since we had kids. Not much of a date, and definitely lacking in romantic atmosphere, but to be able to just spend time and talk was nice.
- Nate Taylor
I was attacked all week by doctors from the neurology team, and added to that because of the infection, I was now to be bombarded by the Infectious Disease Team. So let me introduce, not only my ponytail but my leash (IV Pole). I can't even tell you what was being pumped into my arm, all I know, I would get about a twenty minute break every six hours before starting the next round of we are going to kill whatever and anything inside your system. I can tell you that three days of Vancomycin pushed through the same IV port, which miraculously was still working and hadn't collapsed, hurts like crazy. So first off, props to the nurse who placed the IV, perfect stick!
Day three came and went, there I sat, actually laid, still waiting to be moved. Now I'm being told I need to wait for an ultrasound, test for blood clots. The technician came late afternoon, with his student (Huge Miracle). The technician asked permission to allow the student to perform the test, and at the same time asked permission to take their time.
It was explained to my wife and I that a normal test of this nature usually took twenty minutes scanning from the hip to the knee, since there had been no complaints, signs or symptoms, it was very simple. The student completed the basic assessment, and the technician asked permission to continue down the leg for some extra teaching. As they began to scan just below the knee they found a cluster of blood clots, then found more down mid-calf. The technician asked to test the other leg, and yup, found small clots just above the ankle.
The miracle here was having the student and a good technician teacher, who went the extra mile. I had no feeling in that leg, so I didn't feel any pain.
Of course this slowed the process of getting back to rehab. Now introduce the thrombosis team. The next morning they were in my room scheduling me for ANOTHER procedure. They wanted to put a filter inside the vein to block the clots from traveling, because I wasn't able to start treatment until everything balanced out. So again I started my presurgical starve, and early afternoon of day five I was wheeled down for a filter insertion.
This became my terrifying entertainment procedure. I spoke with the anesthesiologist prior to the procedure, there were a ton of red flags all over my chart by now, and she decided to do a light sedation, just enough to help me relax. Which at the beginning I felt much better about, but...
Remember how before how having a student was the miracle, yeah not so much this time around. It was explained to me that the incision would be at my jugular vein, and they would track down through my heart down through my liver and end up in the femoral vein to place the filter, then they would backtrack and be done, won't take more than about 30 minutes; ending with the most popular words of my hospital adventure, "No Big Deal."
I was lightly "relaxed," and the game began. The doctor (student) made the incision and grabbed the clamp. Everytime he would adjust the clamp, I winced or gulped. This freaked him out a little, "Why isn't he out?" The doctor asked. "He has been sedated." Came the immediate reply. "He is just light." Once the initial panic eased onward they went. The entire time I am listening to the conversations, trying not to laugh at the jokes, or cringe at the corrections.
"STOP STOP STOP!" The doctor/teacher yelled, "BACK UP SLOWLY. BACK UP." This did great for my already elevated nerves and anxiety. I froze, stiffer than I already was, strapped down to the table. The next few minutes, seemed like hours, there was a lot of shuffling around and asking for towels.
At last I hear the words, "Got It. Now we can begin the exit." Thankfully that went without a hitch. About 10 minutes to being finished and closing the incision my IV was switched to fluids to begin flooding out the sedation. I was reminded several times to lay without moving until everything was finished. It didn't take long for the meds to wear off, and they began removing the tent they had built. As I was finally allowed to turn my head, the first thing I noticed was all of the blood splatter all over the ultrasound machine above the table, and then all of the red towels on the floor.
The sidebar conversations from the nurses and technicians confirmed my suspicions. "That was interesting and fun."
The thoughts going through my mind, were less than Christ like.
I got back to my room two hours after leaving, so of course my poor wife was stressed. She was told, down and back 45 minutes, not 120 minutes. We ended the evening off with another blessed hospital meal, and looking forward to getting down to the rehab floor, now that "everything" was in order.
But nope we still had two and a half days of waiting. I was now under the care of: Neurology; Infectious Disease; Thrombosis and now we added the Rehabilitation team to be able to re-admit me to their floor. So we sat, While we waited for all of the different teams to communicate we "enjoyed" a few days "relaxing" in the hospital. We learned the final delay, was waiting for an open bed on the rehab floor, so we sat and waited. The nursing staff was awesome, they felt bad for the chaos, so they tried to leave us alone all they could. Only pestering us to change medications, even skipping vitals except the mandatory twice a day. It was nice, it was the most time I had spent with just my wife since we had kids. Not much of a date, and definitely lacking in romantic atmosphere, but to be able to just spend time and talk was nice.
- Nate Taylor
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