Several months ago, it might have been as early as fall of
last year, at the hospital's imaging center they discovered I had
gallstones. My GP recommended a
surgeon. We visited him and his main
question was, "do they bother you?"
"Well, ....no."
He told us many people live a life time with gallstones and
never know they have them. But if I
wanted them out they would accommodate me.
It was my call. A cut in my
pretty stomach My call: NO.
Anna had hers out
about a year earlier when she found she had gallstones.
A wise choice I found out.
As the months continued I noticed at times when I pigged out
on fatty type of food, or something
heavily doused in mayonnaise I got a very stomach-bloated feeling and I had to
take it easy for the next day.
My bloatness times
increased. Did I get the message my body
was trying to send me? It was LOUD and
clear (if you get what I mean). Nope,
Good looking mouth watering food overruled any common sense that I may have.
Most recently at a sandwich shop near the hospital which we
eat at occasionally we had chicken salad
sandwiches. Mine was delicious . But as soon as I had eaten it I realized than
I had just been consumed by a big glob of
mayonnaise. Our roles were
reversed, the mayo was consumer and I
was the consumeree.
I was sick all the next day.
Then just a couple days later we went to an all you can eat
country-cooking buffet. That was on a
Monday. Tuesday morning I was sick and lifeless which lasted until Friday
or Saturday. By the way, if you are
interested in scientific experiments, again I proved that drinking a Coke to
settle your stomach is an old wives' tale, it is like throwing gasoline on to a
fire..... like I said that is not the first time I disproved that theory. It seems I would learn, doesn't it?
Saturday I had part
if a sandwich. I was trying to get well
for Fathers' Day the following day . or at least be able to fake it to smile
and talk during a meal. Our son and
daughter-in-law and we were going out.
Where they were here we decided instead of food I needed ER
treatment. We spent the rest of the
day in the ER and the next 5 days at the hospital.
When we arrived at the ER I was almost immediately sent to a
little room, placed in a wheel chair and someone took my vitals and asked how
come I was there so they would know what to look for. There were a few us lined up in little red
wheel chairs and the way they were painted and lined up it made be think we
were about to partake in a bumper car race.
A male nurse was getting the vitals from someone and he
asked the patient what was the problem, or why was he there. The man said he thought his hand was
broken.
"Why do you think
it is broken?"
"It hurts like it is broken."
"Did you bang it against something?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"A wall".
"A wall?"
"yes, I hit a wall with my first hard".
"Were you trying to hurt someone?"
"No."
"Was someone trying to hurt you?"
"No."
"Were you drinking?"
"Yes, I had a few beers.... look man, I didn't know I
was going to be questioned!"
"I have to ask you questions based on what you
say..."
An orderly grabbed my wheel chair and began to roll me
back. I wanted to say ask him to wait a
few minutes, I'll like to hear the rest of that conversation, but as discreet as I am, I said nothing.
From this point on the rest of our visit for the next five
and half days I found the hospital staff were very friendly and almost everyone
had a accent of some kind, I heard Doctor Zhivargo, those two wild and crazy
guys on Saturday night Live, Cisco and Puncho, Count Dracula, a KGB spy, and
lastly but not least a mixture of Beverly Hillbillies and Hee Haw.
Anna was back with me when we went back to the ER. We were put in a curtain cubical. There were three cubicles alongside the
wall. The good thing about curtain
cubicles you can overhear everything the
neighbors are saying and the bad thing is that the neighbors can overhear
everything you are saying.
A young man in the next cube was born in 1991. About 22 years old? By the conversation between him and his
medical giver he was in some kind of dirt bike a-rama thing near either Dallas or
Cartersville. The medic person asked him
about how many feet was he in free flight.... I took this as being flung from
his vehicle and was flying through the air.
He said, "about 70 feet."
"70 feet?"
"Yes - the jump
is 50 feet.... and bla bla
bla....."
I wanted to holler out, "Speak out! I can't hear over here!"
And on the other side a young lady or teenager was pregnant. She just found out. She was estimated 7 months pregnant.
Speak up!
They determined I was having a gallstone attack. They could not just remove the gallbladder
because there were complications involved:
I am on Plavix, a blood thinner.
They would have to wait until the Plavix to wear off. Exactly when did I take my last Plavix
pill? That is easy, Saturday night. They said they could operate on probably
Thursday or Friday. The second item was my count, whatever that
is, and my temperature, and maybe one or two other symptoms which had the signature
of a renegade gallstone that might be plugging up a valve hole or
something. They would have the GI group
to give me a closer look by MRI and determine where that little rascal renegade
gallstone was and then a tube down through me somehow and mechanically pick it
up. Shit!
The surgery coordinator I was assigned to put me on a
"nothing by mouth" diet.
Nothing by Mouth means nothing. I
got fluids through the iv and that was it.
Speaking of IVs, my iv tubing was continuously tangling itself up and it
would beep and beep until they came to
fix it. Finally it got where if I just
moved my arm slightly it would shot working and start beeping. The nurses
showed me how to press start again and press the iv selections. Which I'm sure they enjoyed their extra
time. One day it kept beeping and I
couldn't get it back running correctly and the nurse came in several times and
got it running but before she left good it would start beeping again. She told me I was just going to have to keep
my hand still. As she was telling me
this and my hand was in plain view being still, it started beeping again. She called the unit to have them come and jab
a new iv hole.
Speaking of holes in my arm, before the week was over both
my arms were full of holes and bruises.
I told the nurse drawing blood
when I left there if the cops pulled me over and they saw my arms my car
would be searched for sure.
I should note that I don't think anytime for those five
nights in the hospital I got over 20 minutes in a row of good sleep..... well,
any sleep.
For five day we saw a long list of professional medical
people to come and check on me. Members
of my cardiologist's staff, doctors and
nurses kept the door swinging, along with the GI team members, gastrologists
(?), one person with a plastic looking toy that he insisted I blow in every
hour, ten times, and one well fit doctor in his 30s who looked like the poster
child of an aggressive sportsman and
exerciser, bounded in one day, didn't identify himself, he just ask was I OK,
and I said, "Yeah, considering..." and before we could have a chuckle
over my wise-crack he was out the door before it even slung shut. Who was that man? I bet he is very self-centered and cried when
his Little League team lost and if he
ever made a mistake on the sporting field he managed to blame it on someone
else. I guess each of them saying "Howdy-you-do? will be priced and
invoiced and we start seeing statements from various medical groups will start
coming soon.
There were one lady that had an interesting air about her.
It seems she had a wry smile on her face all the time and seemed to sense the
ironic humor in humans
intermingling. She would usually ask me
if they did so and so, and based on what I said she elaborated. She had an accent and reminded me of a KGB
agent - she needed a trench coat to complete my
interpretation of her
One student nurse came through one day with the nurse
watching everything she did and wrote it down and sometimes asked her why she
did something. She was a very serious
learner. Later that same day she came
back and ask if I mind if she ask me some questions about my illness, which I
truthfully answered everything she asked.
Somehow it came out that she loved dogs and she has a part whippet and
part something else, but looks like a pit bull dog. While we were in such a jovial mood talking
about our dogs we asked her if she had any children. She was taken by our question and was silent
for a few moments.... damn, what did we say wrong? Then she finally spoke, saying one thing as
a nurse she was taught is not to divulge too much private information about
yourself. Then, she broke her own
self-imposed rule and told us she was pregnant.
We congratulated her. She left and we didn't see her again.
The older nurses seemed to have cared less about divulging
or TMI. Bah!
During my near-week at the hospital over the PA system they
announced "Town Hall Meeting" in the auditorium two to four times a
day. One nurse told me she had been
there 31 years and has yet attended one of those meetings, she said she had to
eat her lunch working, do I think she was going to waste her work time hearing
about the hospital long range plans? She
shooed the thought away like swatting a fly.
Just like the Wheels of Justice move slowly, so do the
Wheels of Medicine. One group can't make their move until the group ahead of them do their thing.
But the day we thought the GI people should do their
exploring we had the nurse to call and asked when they were going to do
me. They said they had no paper work on
me. Back to the drawing board.
Finally that day or the next they came and did my MIR. The thing is by the time they got the orders
and did the MRI the little renegade gallstone had moved on, probably flushed
away with the water the IVs has been dripping into me. And my temperature was back to normal and so
were the numbers.
My surgery to have the gallbladder removed was
Thursday. A team came in and made sure I
was properly cleaned, stripped down with no clothes except my hospital gown,
watch removed, and ring we
compromised. I was rolled onto a
gurney and down the corridors and elevators and down more corridors until we
reached the operating complex. While
being pushed looking ahead I thought it would be neat to have my camera with me
to video the trip down the halls, you see lots of people mulling about talking,
reading orders, reading newspapers, and just hanging out. It would make an interesting video. Then I thought of how I would look holding a
video being gurneyed down the hall and I was reminded me I only had on a
hospital gown. Damn, when the people
looked up to see the gurney noise what all did they see flapping in the wind go
by them?
In the operating staging cubicles again we had fabric cubicles
that you could hear other people talk.
One guy with a very loud voice was telling someone with him he does all
kinds of workouts every day in a gym and so far this year has ran over 19,000
miles. He said an actual number, like
19,745 but I didn't retain it, I wasn't compulsive over his stats as he
was. But I do know he said he ran at
least 19,000 miles this year. That was
June 20. June 20 was the 171st day of
2013. If you divide 19,000 by 171 you
will see that the guy was claiming to average slightly over 111 miles each
day.
That is a lot of time improving one's body for endurance,
which is commendable but when did he find time for just routine daily routines
like sleep, eating, yard work, whatever.
As he told whomever he was talking to, "I'm the real thing!"
Well, as long as he is still talking he will always have a
favorite subject to talk about.
The operation went smoothly, or I suppose it did. I only remember them putting me back in my
hospital bed back in my room.
Additional to my IV they hooked me up to some additional devices or
gadgets. I had an oxygen breathing tube,
both lower parts of my legs wrapped in air tubes that was tighten up whenever they felt it was
needed, which was about every ten or fifteen minutes, and maybe a heart
monitor, I forgot.
With all the tubes and wires wrapped around me I found it
almost impossible to urinate. There was
a plastic urinal by the bed for my convenience but found it hard and
complicated to use. The wires and tubes
were pulled tight and some was in a tangle.
It was hard to stand at the edge of my bed and pee into the plastic
urinal. I had to stoop over balanced on
one leg with the other pulled upward by the tubes. They were trying to flush me so was pumping
fluids by the IV to I was forced to pee about once an hour, and each time I had
to do an acrobatic act.
Now, I had a tube coming out of my stomach into an overflow
bottle, so I could not lay on my side. I
cannot sleep on my back. From exhaustion
a couple of times I almost nodded off to sleep only to gently woken by the
feeling of huge snakes coiling around my legs.
After a whole night without a wink of sleep a doctor the
next morning was telling me what an great invention the tubes around the legs
are, he said that will keep you from having cramps. I told him that thing kept me awake when I
could be sleeping and which is more valuable a stroke from sleep deprivation or
no leg cramps? He looked at me with a
frozen smile and left with his
clipboard.
I was released Friday with an overflow tube attached to a
little bottle, which I will have to have remove early in the week. I am gradually getting my appetite and energy
back. Now, it only hurt when I giggle.
PS - One thing I almost forgot, a nurse was helping me one day and was getting me ready for bed and giving me the proper medicines and she asked me, "Do they give you Tylenol at the Home?"
PS - One thing I almost forgot, a nurse was helping me one day and was getting me ready for bed and giving me the proper medicines and she asked me, "Do they give you Tylenol at the Home?"
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