Tag: nurses

Air

When I was in college I took a music appreciation class. I’ve always loved music. This class gave me an opportunity to explore various genres of music. For instance, we listened to quite a lot of classical music. Through this experience I gained an appreciation for the classical composer, Johann Sebastian Bach. One piece in particular of his that I enjoy is “Air on the G String.”

I heard this particular piece a couple of weeks ago. Since that day “air” is something that has taken on a quite a particular significance. That same day Our Little Fighter was airlifted from our local hospital to one over an hour away. He has a virus that led to an infection in his lung. Our house is just a couple of blocks from our local hospital. I heard the helicopter land and take off as it carried Our Little Fighter away into a world of uncertainty.

A brief time after the helicopter departed, an eagle appeared high in the sky. It circled our house a couple of times and then flew north. I was reminded of Isaiah 40:31, “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint” (ESV). These are words that I have had to keep coming back to, especially since progress seems to be slow.

This past week, while Amanda has been keeping watch over Our Little Fighter at the hospital, I have been home with Little Boy. He has been keeping me entertained. This morning he put his fork behind my back during breakfast, proceeded to sit back down, then with a puzzled grin asked me where his fork was. Usually we play this game where he hides behind me and then I ask where he has gone. He will peek around my shoulder and say, “here I am.” Apparently, he is building his comedy chops. I love every minute of it.

We will wait upon the Lord, as He is the source of our true strength. No matter where life leads, God is in control. We will keep trusting Him to provide strength in our weariness. He already is doing so through the humor of a little boy. I am just hoping there are no forks in my bed tonight.

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Six Weeks

Yesterday was my last dose of antibiotics. This was cause for celebration. It has been a long six weeks of medication, home nursing visits, doctor’s appointments, and sleepless nights. There were times it seemed like it would never end.

However, my body has healed. My PICC line has been removed, and life is slowly getting back to normal. Now it is time to once again build up my strength. My body has become very weak, as I have been quite inactive. Working from home has not helped this situation. Despite this, I am thankful to have a good job. Likewise, I am thankful that my body has healed.

I am curious to see what the next few months will bring as we head into autumn. There is a lot to look forward to, especially with Baby Boy here. For instance, Halloween should be fun with a little one. Thanksgiving and Christmas will be extra special as well. Hopefully, 2021 will be a better year for us all. I know I am ready to say goodbye to 2020!

My parasitic PICC line. It felt like a worm slithering through my vein as it was removed from my arm.
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He Said, She Said!

It appears I will be going home today, I think. Modern, American medicine is something that I am still struggling to understand. I have had a doctor called a “hospitalist.” To my knowledge, this doctor is supposed to coordinate the treatment being carried out by a team of doctors. In my case, I have an infectious disease doctor and a podiatrist. To me the lines of communication between all three doctors should be open and collaborative. However, my observations have shown me otherwise.

The entire time I have been hospitalized, podiatry has just walked in whenever they feel like it and does what it needs to do. Infectious disease has been the same way. The hospitalist, on the other hand, doesn’t really seem to know what is happening with either department. I seem to be the middle man between them all. This is apparent when each asks me what the other has said. Isn’t this what a hospitalist is being paid to do? If so, I’d like my first paycheck by next Friday.

This is frustrating when all you want to do is go home. For instance, the hospitalist was in today and said he needed to check on whether antibiotics would be administed at home or if I would need to come in to the hospital each day to have this done. This is infuriating, seeing as how the hospital social worker told me yesterday that home nursing would be by tomorrow to administer my first home dose and then teach Amanda and I how to run it from there.

This all leads me to believe the hospitalist has read none of the notes in my chart, as there is an order in for me to be discharged. Plus, I am positive there is information about the establishment of home nursing care. Fortunately, I have a feisty nurse today that knows what she is doing and has read the notes in my chart. I still can’t figure out why a doctor who is supposed to be coordinating my care has not. Maybe, he just has chosen not to take the time.

I expect a standard of care when I am being treated for an illness. My nursing staff has been exceptional. The doctors on the other hand all have seemed to have checked out on me, which doesn’t instill a lot of confidence. I wish I could say this is my only experience like this, but it isn’t. If a generalist is going to be on staff then they need to have a firmer grasp on the information being provided to the patient. The patient should never have to play a game of “he said, she said” with the doctors. To me that is unacceptable.

It is nearly 1:00 p.m. and I am still waiting to go home, despite the fact that my daily dose of antibiotics have been administered. I’m not ordering any lunch, as I refuse to eat another meal here. I understand the discharge process can take a while. I am trying to be patient. However, as I have noted in past blog posts I am not the most patient of patients. However, am I really the patient anymore when I am being asked to provide the services of a “go-between” with my doctors?

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Please Shut the Door Behind You

I wish someone could explain to me what sense it makes to wake someone up who is in the hospital every three hours to take their vitals. If someone is critically ill, yes, I can see keeping a close watch on their blood pressure, temperature, and pulse rate. However, for a patient who is stable, and has been since their admission then why the need? Rest to me seems as if it should take precedent over anything else.

If a body needs healing, rest seems to be one of the best ways to promote that. I get horrible sleep in the hospital. It is more like a series of cat naps I take at night. This is because I know that if I try to fall asleep for real, I’ll have someone in asking to check my blood pressure, my temperature, and my pulse rate. This is despite the fact all of those numbers have been consistent for days!

I’m a quiet person who generally doesn’t summon the nurse or an aide for anything, unless I need to use the bathroom. Then I ask for help getting to and from there. Once that is done I expect to climb back into bed and be left to my own devices. If I have my phone and iPad within reach that is all I need. I like my door to be shut and to not be bothered.

This seems to unnerve some nurses and aides. I am a low-maintenance patient who loves to be in the quiet of my own space. That is not to say I don’t appreciate their kindness and their helpfulness, but in all honesty, I’d rather just enjoy the solitude. Maybe in hopitals there needs to be a side of the floor for those who need the extra care and support, and a side for those who just want peace and quiet.

In reality, I am pretty certain none of this will ever change. however, if I am in a hospital to rest then let me do it. I know my body and it enjoys its rest. Let me sleep and I will be gone much quicker out of your care. Yes, I know I sound like an old man who is growling through clenched teeth for medical staff to “get off my lawn!” Nonetheless, I do appreciate what they do. They just need to do it more in someone else’s room. I am fine, I will be fine, and I know when I need to call for help.

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What is There to Fear?

If you read my last blog post you know I have been struggling physically the last few days. I thought things were looking up until I went for a follow up with primary care doctor today. The infection in my foot appeared to be getting better. However, upon closer examination the wound on my foot had a sneaky, little hole that was leading down to my bone. Through this hole poured some of the infection. What this means is yet another surgery tomorrow.

As I have gotten older I have begun to question just how much more my body can withstand. I’ve had over 30 procedures done in the 43 years I have been alive. It seems there isn’t a part of my body that has been left unscathed by a surgeon’s scalpel. I have seen large chunks of flesh removed from my body, my head has been shaved bald, and I’ve had muscles removed from one part of my body and transferred to another spot.

I’ve had some great doctors. I have also had some fairly incompetent ones. The nurses, on the other hand, have all been terrific. They are the ones who really know what is happening. I’ll ask a nurse something before I ask any doctor. A nurse, even if they don’t know the answer, can usually do some investigative work and get you the information you need. Plus, they clean up all of the messes!

I don’t mind having surgery. It is nothing that scares me. I’m confident in the doctor who is performing the surgery, so I know I am in capable hands. There are great nurses around as well. Likewise, I know prayers are already being spoken for me. Therefore, it is in God’s hands. What is there to fear? I just hope they ask me what kind of music I want to listen to as I drift off to sleep!

P.S. I had my first test for COVID-19 today. It felt like someone shot onion juice up into my sinuses, as my nostrils begin to sting and my eyes began to water! After that I feel like I can face anything.

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