Midnight in the ER.....

ER's have their own rhythms.  Patients tend to come and go in a rush.  Fill, and empty.  Fill, and empty.  Tonight's arrival coincided with a fill phase.  We watched three different people in hard neck braces get wheeled in from whatever car crash they were extricated from.  We saw family and friends weeping in hallways.  We listened to the punch-drunk humor of the nurses and aides. 

We arrived at the crest of the wave. 

Mom came over last night to eat a hearty dinner of scalloped potatoes and ham.  She hung out while a large, loud, room full of grands and great-grands decorated Easter eggs, chatting about anything and everything.  She watched Boo heave eggs (miraculously breaking only one) into cups of dye.  She watched as Citygirl revealed the stunning, incredibly sexy results of a recent photo shoot that she had modeled for my talented sister-in-law.  She admired Squeaker's dye-stained hands.

And she seemed fine.

I wasn't the one who escorted her into the house or I might have notice sooner that she wasn't breathing well.  But since she didn't move a step the entire time she was there, I didn't realize until everybody was packing up to go home that she was in pretty tough shape.  She got up, walked three steps, and her lips turned blue.  I had to put a chair underneath her where she stood because she couldn't make the three steps back to the table.

Since I couldn't get her out of the house, I called 911.  This remains the fastest way to get six attractive men to arrive at your doorstep at one time. 

We hit the ER, where her condition got her a lot of immediate attention.  Blood pressures of 211/88 coupled with oxygen levels that refuse to rise over 88 ON oxygen keep the nurses hopping.  And the repetitive cycles of long runs of abnormal heartbeats that overrode her pacemaker REALLY intrigued them.

It took from 9:30 PM to almost 2 AM to get her stable enough to admit to a monitored room. There was Nitropaste.  And IV Lasix.  And pills.  And a fourth med given by IV, all just to get her blood pressure down to 170/80.  And there were no monitored beds available, so when I left at 2:30, the plan was to monitor her in the ER until a bed became available.  I punked out at that point.  I have never left a family member alone in the ER before - I always stay until they are tucked in bed upstairs, translating the medical terms into English (I am bilingual.  Most doctors and many nurses are not.) and generally fetching and carrying.  There was no way I could do that this time.  When it was clear that she was stabilizing enough to survive, I had to move Babygirl and her biopsy back to the top of my list and hope for the best.

This is the first time in over 20 years that I missed the Easter sunrise service.

It sucks when the first thing the ER doc says is, "Don't I know you?"

DeeDee

Week One Hundred and one - Crazed....

Last year at Eastertime Babygirl was still recovering from her transplant.  We were still adjusting to the necessities of her new diet, new housekeeping standards, and medication regimen.  If I recall corrctly, we were just finishing with needing to visit Philadelphia twice a week and were down to weekly visits.  Since those visits were on Mondays, that meant that Sundays were travel days. 

We weren't yet into the rythym of the travel.  Each trip still had an urgent, shot-out-of-a-rocket feel to it.  Now, the bags pack themselves, the car goes into autopilot, the music rocks and we're there before we know it.  Then, not so much.

So last Easter, I was crazed.  I can admit it now.  I'm getting better at spotting crazed, but I'm not any better at preventing it.  But I think I'm less crazed about the kinds of things that can't be changed, like family holidays overlapping medical commitments. 

God bless my family.  My Easter Bunny brother (who was caught on film performing his duties here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TATuoOHxMCk) and everybody else dealt with my mommy-on-the-edge-of-hysteria mindset without comment.  Looking back, it was not my finest moment in hospitality.  I'm impressed that they are coming back again this year. 

But if there is any holiday that centers on forgiveness, Easter is it.  So tonight I'll attend Good Friday services and sing in the dark.  I'll remember the Love that gave His all for us.  And I'll rejoice in the resurrection, enjoy some candy, and not plan on leaving until everybody is done celebrating, however late that is.

And I might even buy the Easter Bunny some donuts.

DeeDee

It's a Biopsy.....

It's been a long day.  My friend's son's funeral was this morning.  To make it possible for me to go, my schedule got rearranged, losing my afternoon and morning off, and stuffing a lot of people into a theoretically short afternoon.  I have two students, which makes juggling the day a little more challenging.  And I got a phone call from a Philadelphia area code that made me have to walk out and leave part of my lunch behind.

The call was from anaesthesia.  "We have a few questions for you."  "Well, okay, but first I have a question for you.  Are we having a biopsy?  If so, when?" 

She was a bit set back by the question, but filled me in on the details.  Babygirl will be admitted Monday for an afternoon biopsy.  No food after midnight, clear liquids and meds until 10 AM. 

Length of stay is entirely out of my hands.  If they opt to start plasmapheresis, it could be a while.

DeeDee

The Swearing and Screaming Phase....

When Citygirl was six, I bought a swingset for the back yard.  It was made of wood, included a slide and a set of monkey bars.  Some assembly required.  Most of the time I had no regrets about being a single mom, and Citygirl's dad had proven to me a couple of times over that he had no idea which end of screwdriver to use, but I did occasionally miss having a second pair of hands for a project.  And this one was a doozy. 

After a couple of hours of assembly, willingly if not ably assisted by Citygirl, I called my best friend and asked if Citygirl could come over for a couple of hours.  "Sure, why?"  "Because I've reached the swearing and screaming phase of the project and I think she should miss this part."

So today I placed a call to CHOP to try to figure out if Babygirl is scheduled for a biopsy yet or not. 

They told me in February that this biopsy is necessary.  They told me they needed to see if the antibodies she is making are hurting the kidney.  And what the hey, I have to believe them!  Short of returning to residency and becoming a nephrologist myself, I have no option but to believe what they tell me.

Babygirl hasn't been seen by a doctor since February 18th.  The anticipated biopsy date of March 14th came and went.  The next date they are aiming for is April 1st, which is one week from today, and as of this morning we had no news about whether or not they are proceeding.

I asked the receptionist who answered the phone if the procedure has been scheduled yet.  He told me that they were waiting to hear from the sedation team.

"The sedation team rejected her as a sedation candidate in NOVEMBER.  They told us more than a month ago that they weren't changing their minds about that for this procedure.  Last I heard what we were waiting for was a room in the OR and general anaesthesia!"  I'm sure I said more. I'm sure I said it loudly. I'm sure it included, "I know you aren't the person responsible, but you are the person on the phone.  I need answers." 

I got transferred to the nurse practitioner, who, among other things, hinted that there was some degree of disagreement among the transplant doctors about the necessity for the biopsy.  She wasn't sure what the hold up was on planning.  And so on and so on.  While we were having this discussion, my student arrived to tell me about our last morning patient, and the alarm went off on my phone to remind me to call my Mom and tell her to take her pills.  And right about there, I hit the swearing and screaming phase of the project.  "My dad used to address juvenile behavior like this by telling us, 'Shit or get off the pot!'  So pick one or the other but here's what I want you to do:  I want a call within the next 24 hours giving me the date and time of Babygirl's next appointment.  And I want to know what that appointment is FOR - recheck or biopsy.  Cancel the f***ing thing or make it happen, but stop making me crazy.  My life has PLENTY of stress without this shit."  I offered to us my inappropriate anger on the OR if she thought they needed some inspiration to move things along.

I then turned to my flabbergasted student, listened to her case history and dealt with the patient. I ate lunch in bites between phone calls and paperwork, and totally forgot to call my Mom about her pills.

The NP called me back toward the end of the day.  We are to come in Monday.  She doesn't know for sure if we will get a biopsy or a recheck visit, but the plan is to proceed with biopsy if the OR is available. 

So it seems it's down to the the Pantie Fairy.  If I pack a weeks' worth, will we get to come home on Monday without a procedure?

Ugh.

DeeDee

It's a Killer....

A good friend who also happens to be a co-worker suffered the unthinkable this week.

It's a long story of suffering.  Her son, 38 years old, has had kidney stones.  Not just one or two, but dozens, maybe hundreds.  We don't think of kidney stones as anything more than an extremely painful nuisance, but he needed repeated procedures to remove stones, to break up stones, and to recover from stones.  One kidney had over 40 stones at one time, and the decision was made to remove that kidney.  We all know that you only need one good kidney to survive, right?

What we all also know, and don't like to contemplate, is that surgery is a BIG deal.  Big.

He came home from the hospital.  He coded.  Mom did CPR.  He arrived at the hospital with a heartbeat, but he did not survive. 

I have no idea what went wrong, but I have the list:  Blood clots, delayed medication reactions, infection - to name a very few.

It doesn't matter.  What matters is that another family is suffering because they lost a young loved one to kidney disease.  Mothers should never have to bury their sons.  Never. 

March is National Kidney Month.  Sign your organ donor cards.  Tell your family.  And consider donating for research:  http://www.kidney.org/

DeeDee

Week One Hundred - Blessed are the Flexible....

Babygirl and I went to our first yoga class yesterday.  I can't recall what type of yoga it was, but the focus was on deep relaxation.  We spent an entire hour lying flat on our backs, focusing on letting all the stress out of our bodies and breathing deeply.  I have to say that emptying myself of stress was a challenge, but neither Babygirl nor I felt as if it really took an entire hour.  And she didn't have a headache today, so maybe it's worth continuing.  But aside from getting up and down off of the floor it didn't require nearly as much flexibility as I expected.

Today is my birthday.  Hubby is still not 100%, so we decided to try for a simple restaurant with a short wait.  Two years ago that would have meant our favorite Chinese buffet, but Babygirl is not allowed to go to buffets anymore due to possible food contamination, so anywhere we go must be a make-it-fresh kind of place.  We settled on Friendly's, and I was looking forward to a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup sundae!

When we arrived, Boo in hand, they had a waiting time of nearly half an hour.  Not being new to the toddler-in-a-restaurant situation, I decided that this was not the place for us, so we went to local dive that serves amazing hot wings.  The wings were amazing, as were the onion rings, spiedies and fries.  Boo tried everything and loved it all except the hot wings.  She liked the idea, but you know that delay when something that is really spicy tastes great and then suddenly the heat is there?  We are mean people.  We let her do it twice.

We stopped for Ben and Jerry's on the way home, and I'm eating 'everything but the....' as we, well, speak.

"Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not get bent out of shape."

It was a great evening.  I love my family, and I'm eternally grateful to have them.

Dee

Disaster Du Jour....

Since going more than a week without some sort of health disaster seems to be out of the question for our family, Hubby decided to step up to the plate and take one for the team.

He awoke Sunday feeling fine.  By 2 PM he'd lost about four pints of blood in bouts of intermittent rectal bleeding.  Not exaggerating in the least.  He started with a hemoglobin of 14 and dropped to 10.  The bleeding stopped on its own, right about the time the pain kicked in.  They admitted him from the ER, gave him 24 hours of antibiotics and he's home and comfy.

Diagnosis:  Diverticulitis.  It is, IMO, an adequate explanation for the pain.  I'm not as convinced about the bleeding, but he has a follow-up appointment with a surgeon, and I see a long-delayed colonoscopy in his immediate future.  By the way, spellcheck doesn't want him to have a colonoscopy.  Spellcheck thinks he needs a kaleidoscope.  Hubby thinks that's what he'd rather have too.

Now if they'd just schedule Babygirl's biopsy so we could actually plan ahead it would be great.

DeeDee

PS I'm proud that I managed to keep the words "chainsaw" and "massacre" from my post.  LOL.