I described last year's procedure, hospital stay and home recovery as pure Hell--something that I hoped never to go through again. So, I've been trying to come up with a summary description of this year's experience, and have decided to call it Hell Lite. I know that is a mixed metaphor, but it does seem to fit, so I'll go with it.
While this procedure was every bit as long as last time, nearly 12 hours until they rolled me into the ICU, I was not put into an extended coma and managed to avoid seeing those terrifying 6-legged lizards (and Jeff Rupp, for that matter) in my sleep. I did dream that I was handed down the task to write the next book in the Lord of the Rings saga, but every time I thought about the existing books part of my memory was taken away from me. Still trying to sort through that dream, but at least it was mercifully short.
I was in ICU from late Friday until late Wednesday--again shorter than last time. And, like last time, all but one of the Emory nurses were great. The bad apple this time was not another Kimmee (who, as you may recall, scanned my billing band while I was using that same arm to urinate), and I had her for only one shift. Other than that, nothing but superlatives to say about the nurses this time. One of them, the ICU head nurse, has a good friend in common with us, and she is a GSU Nursing Alum.
Every day started and most days ended with swarms of young residents giving me a once-over to report back to Drs. Wadsworth and Roser. Dr. Roser himself came by twice on almost every day.
While being told before that I could be in the hospital for up to two weeks, as early as Tuesday we got hints that I could be discharged by the weekend. For us, that meant Sunday, but as the week went on, someone said "maybe Friday." We were doubtful at first, but it did in fact happen. As I was walking on the main floor that morning, one of the residents told me that I got the fastest discharge ever by Wadsworth for this surgery.
OK, back to Hell Lite. Last time they took my entire left fibula--this time they took a chunk of bone and tissue from my left arm, so not only was the "donor" wound smaller, I did not have to heal well enough to support my weight and walk--and had no leg cast to deal with. There were no surprises in the OR, like last year's major infection and A-fib, so I had no complications to deal with beyond the planned surgical wounds.
I got moved out of ICU late on Tuesday, and walked to my new room on my own. So, just two more days there, and all the chips fell into place for a Friday discharge. I did come hone with a nasal feeding tube and trach, which have demanded a lot of attention, but nothing like the IV-antiobiotics a year ago.
But, this stay was not without a "signature" event in Hell Lite, and served to motivate me even more to bust out ASAP. During the procedure I had a Folley catheter inserted which sent my liquid waste directly to a collection bag. The Folley cath was removed on Monday, on schedule, but I was not able to urinate after that for 24 hours. That caused me to need a straight cath inserted (you figure out the details) manually by "that" nurse. The way she went about her business made it a totally humiliating experience. When she left the room, she warned me that it would have to be done again, and until I could pee on my own. Fast forward 12 hours and I still haven't peed, so a different nurse comes in to do the cath again--while two other nurses are also attending to me for different things. Rather than wait, she starts her work and knows I am mortified by the scene in my room. Once she inserts the cath, she tries to calm me, gives me a wink and says "You can get your dignity back when you've left the hospital, but my advice is to take more of the meds that will help you pee on your own." So, I ordered a double shot of FloMax right after and peed on my own about 8 hours later.
The rest was Wadsworth discharge history.
mike
No comments:
Post a Comment