Back in Bed at the Hospital - 2010

Well, my fellow inmates, I have written an entry it to say I now have sick sinus syndrome, antiphospholipid anitibody syndrome and my blood is too thick to go home for a few more days. Did I mention my new pacemaker? Did I mention going up a floor and sleeping in a bed in the hall because it was too cold in my room? Did I mention that while these nurses are dedicated, some are not even close to Florence Nightengale, not even Florence Henderson?

I checked into ER at 6 pm January 12, Tuesday, after spending the day with my urologist scanning and probing for a stone. None. I was in great pain so I went to the ER and spent a couple hours with babies shrieking. Or was it me? About 10 pm they were going to cut me loose with no diagnosis when I commented we were headed to Baltimore that day. Then he asked questions about long plane trips and recent surgery. The doc suspected a blood clot and ordered a blood test for the likelihood of having one. It came up positive and the CT scan revealed a clot on the lungs. I was passed on to nurse Ricky Nelson (well, he looked like a young Ricky). After awhile I was admitted and moved to my new home.

Once inside the system, they inspected me like bug in a jar, I was just a redneck in a rock and roll bar. I now qualify as Pepe, the Human Pincushion. Along about Saturday I agreed that it was cold in my room (only) and that night I excaped and found a bed in the hall upstairs by one floor where I coiled up a tried to catch a few winks. Little did I know I fell off their monitoring grid. When I came back a nurse asked me if it was still cold in my room. I stated while I didn't know how cold it was but a chef from the cafeteria asked if he could hang some meat in there. My unit got fixed Sunday.

Some of my '42' domino playing buddies decided to meet at the hospital cafeteria and play dominos with me. I told the tech where I was going and what I was doing. We played away and after two hours one of the nurses, the tech I had told, came to get me. It seems they had been looking for me. My wife came and took a verbal report from a doctor and my meds stacked up and they sent 2 nurses looking for me. Head bowed, I came back to the music. Chastised, I sought permission thereafter and check out with the charge nurse.

I got one nurse banned from my room in mid-shift. She traumatized me. I mentioned that my IV line was un-taped and that subsequent efforts to reinforce it had only taped the tape to the tape. I said we need a nurse to check it out. She said she could do it and put on gloves to remove the old tape. In no time I had to help her extricate herself from the tape and she proceeded to remove the gloves and do it. At one point I looked over and she had pulled the IV out accidentally. "no, don't put it back in that hole," I said, reading her mind. I could hear the wheels turning. Mind you, I was getting perforated in the gut with stroganoff (blood thinner) and was taking Coumadin. My eyes must have been as big as saucers. She then proceeded to make a gauze pad by folding over one and taped it on with a 'water-proof' clear bandage tape. Only the tape was only 1/8" bigger than the pad. "I'm bleeding," I said when a big magenta spot appeared on the gauze. She proceeded to make an identical gauze bandage on top of the other one which hid the blood. The damage was done. I checked out of the unit for a short walk, hiding my shocked look.

When I checked back in, I proceeded to formulate a passive-aggressive plan of response. I made a sign that said "NO: Visitors, shots, needles, nurses, techs or aides" and posted it on my door and closed it. No one bothered me from 10 pm to 4 am. Knowing the vampires came at 4 am plus, and thinking of an angry mob gathered outside my door with torches, I amended my note to say it was okay and went back to sleep. No more nurse Igor. I got a new nurse and after my wife asked that that nurse not see me again, her wish was granted.

Some little Nigerian nurse phlebotomist came to take my blood one morning. Three sticks in various places later, she gave up. I told her my veins rolled!? A replacement was sent in and after 2 sticks she drew my blood.

I would have been disappointed if you hadn't dubbed me PFH but to many it meant Heaven, not hell. I was the one who taught them what 1 dssp meant. Look it up. I introduced them to good music (and bad), got up at 4 am and told them jokes, entertained them and generally didn't ask for anything in return. When I needed someone or something, I went and got it or them. My MD, resident, had nothing but good things to say. When he reviewed my cheat sheet of surgeries/medications/diseases/etc he remarked, "Hmm, you've had a lot of surgeries and birth defects." To which I replied, "As many defects and surgeries as I've got, you'd think I was made by Chrysler."

Back to the IV line, the nurse who replaced Abby Normal, found I was staying over some more and needed a new IV line. She enlisted Nurse Jim to do it as he was "good." His bedside manner was confidence and steadfastness throughout the number of sticks he tried before he got one to stick. And that was after I persuaded him to let me turn on my DBS long enough to let him find it easily. I proceeded to educate him on DBS systems and how they worked and he was successful.

With regards to hitting veins, I learned about valves in veins from Jim. He stuck me once, commented it felt like he struck a valve and pulled it out. The other two blood suckers nailed it every time on the first try. I complimented them both profusely. I know when I'm treated right!

As for the blood thinners, they perforated my stomach from hip to hip and back again trying to thin my blood to handle the antiphospholipid antibody syndrome when they noted my sinus rhythm was screwed up and my pulse was low (34-47 bpm) and they felt a pacemaker was in order. So they backed off the coumadin and stroganoff (loganoff) until they were happy with it and one afternoon they put in a pacemaker. I got to experience the OR while I was awake for the first time, noting how they shaved my pect for implantation. Since my right superior vena cava was actually on the left, that necessitated the pacemaker on the right, where the coast was clear. But I still, apparently, had a surprise up my sleeve as they encountered a small right vena cava that actually dumped into the wrongly-placed left one! This required an additional lead but they handled it. I'm still quite sore.

One nurse was named Leslie and my sister's name was Leslie. I told her we brothers called her Les Hag and still do. I said I dubbed her Madame Juicy ( m sister) in a fit of genius one day when we were aggravating each other. It made her madder than a hornet and caused my grandpa to laugh his head off. The nurse asked me why I called her that and I said it made her mad. It disappointed the nurse when she came back and I couldn't remember her name. The third time, I said "Hey, Les Hag!" and she left the room as my wife came in. My wife said, "She was really worried about Madame Juicy and muttered she was going to look it up?"

By the way, 1 dssp is 1 dessert spoonful, a British measurement half-way between a teaspoonful and a tablespoonful. Now you who didn't look it up know. And so do all the nurses in that pod.

Funny you should mention fatigue along with low pulse rate. The shortness of breath and fatigue began to make sense in that context.

The blood clot I went in for originally turned out to be an autoimmune disease related to, but not exactly, lupus. It was antiphospholipid antibody syndrome. Dr. said I was just getting old and things were wearing out. This resulted in coumadin for life and no more fishing alone in my boat. Especially I shouldn't fish for catfish. Rats. It also delayed my pacemaker because operations require you quit coumadin, then the effects of thick-blood delayed my release. I went in for an "idiot" light and came out with a new alternator and a set of points, so to speak. They didn't even run me thru a carwash.

It was all in all a humbling experience for us all. Me having so many people a party to my most personal of activities and feelings.