It is Monday, 3pm and I am sitting on the side of my hospital bed. Just moments ago, the nurse finished my last dose of IV antibiotics and removed the IV line from my left forearm. This is the first time in 4 weeks that I have not had some sort of artificial "extra hole" in my body for either putting things in or draining stuff out. It feels good being "whole" for a change.
In about an hour I will be discharged and Sara will be taking me home. For the first time in 4 weeks, I will no longer be on round the clock IV antibiotics. I will be taking oral antibiotics for at least the next ten days, but that should be a piece of cake in comparison to the various IV's and PICC line systems I have been dealing with for weeks. In fact, I will only need to take the oral antibiotic twice a day (on the 9s). Imagine, actually sleeping through the night for the first time in nearly a month!
I have taken to growing the hair on my face, mostly out of laziness and the inconvenience of trying to shave in the hospital. The sad part is that at the age of 55, I probably look more like I have a 2 day growth rather than a 6 day growth starting from last Wednesday. But since the doctors have warned me to take it very easy for a while, I figured I would give it a good college try and see what I can come up with the next week or two.
I am hoping that the serious parts of this extended health blog are at an end at this point. I believe at this point, my body is going to be the best proponent of my healing process. This has been a wild and scary ride; I learned a lot about my body and myself. I also learned a lot about the health care system and some of it's stronger and weaker points. These things I will discuss in what I hope will be my next/last blog post on this subject.
But for now, I am feeling relief and slightly energized. I am relieved that I will be leaving the hospital in about 45 minutes. I am relieved that I will no longer be tethered to various bags, pumps and tubes. I am relieved that my movement is no longer stymied by those bags, pumps, and tubes. If I could do a cartwheel (something that I tried to learn repeatedly in my youth), I would do one now. But mostly, I am relieved and energized to be going home to my wife and son. It is my love for them that defines me and being away has been nearly more than I can bear.
I am probably at about 75-80% at this moment, so your continued thoughts, prayers and wishes are still welcome. As I mentioned above, I may post one or two more blogs on this experience in the coming days. It is my wish that it be just one more blog that ties up the lose ends and reports continued growing good health.
I do want to say this. I was thinking recently about how folks say you should appreciate your good health. I'm not sure anyone can actually appreciate their good health until it is gone. How can you appreciate what it means to be able to see until you have lost your sight? How can you really appreciate what it means to be able to walk until you have lost that ability?
However, I may have a way that anyone can show their appreciation for their good health. If you hug a family member, go take a walk, laugh with your friends, wrestle with your dog, kiss your significant other; in these ways you show your appreciation for your good health. And when you do those things, you might occasionally think 'I can do this because I am healthy', then you are actually appreciating your health.
So here is to your good health!
Monday, November 12, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 10)
Is is now Sunday night and I was admitted into the Hospital last Thursday a little before midnight. When I came in, my temps were pushing 101 and Friday morning in the hospital, the temps hit 101.5. Normally, these kinds of temps would not be of any concern, but Doc B thought that there might be a secondary infection brewing, or maybe the abscess was starting to grow again (neither would be particularly good).
So when I first arrived, the nurses took blood cultures from my PICC line and from the opposite arm. And then they took more blood from the forearm of the arm with the PICC line. All of this was immediately set out to culture. The reason they took blood from the PICC line was that they also wanted to see if the PICC line had anything growing. At that point, they added Vancomycin (yet another very powerful broad spectrum antibiotic) to my treatment.
The next morning, more blood work from all the same places. They explained to me that cultures take 48 to 72 hours to grow. They also explained that even though I had all that blood taken the previous evening, my hospital doctor wanted to have the blood taken again to make sure nothing was missed. In addition, Doc B ordered the PICC line removed. The end of the PICC line (the part that was in my heart) was cut off and sent in for testing for infection. Now it was a waiting game to see what all the cultures might grow.
During the next few days, my fever reduced pretty radically. By Sunday, my fever was very low grade and stayed mostly between 98 and 99.5 (sound familiar?). I was feeling much better and one of my doctors (Doc A) suggested that I might be going home tomorrow. She shared that all culture growth was NEGATIVE (very good). In addition, my white cell count was completely normal (also good) and my liver function was normal. The doctor also suggested that they may skip putting in another PICC line and may send me home with just oral antibiotics (halleluia!).
So here I sit, waiting for tomorrow.
As a side note, I have mentioned very little about my roommates. My current roommate is a gentleman in his late 80's that was admitted to our room just about one hour before me on Thursday evening. He is a very nice fellow with a spunky, upbeat wife and fine family. I will not talk about his condition since it is none of anyone's business, but I will share this one bit of information. Tonight (Sunday night), he is prepping for a colonoscopy in the morning. These are small rooms and he cannot make it to the bathroom, so he has to use a little portapotty next to his bed. Those of you who have had a colonoscopy know what kind of evening he (and I) are in for.
I wanted to share this little tidbit just to give you a smile and let you know that very little that happens in the hospital, happens in a vacuum, so to speak. Without question, I have been taking more walks this evening in the hospital than I have in all the other days combined that I have been here.
It is now 11:30pm and it looks like he may have a few more visits before he, and I, get any sleep. Smile tonight when you try to imagine sleeping through that.
So when I first arrived, the nurses took blood cultures from my PICC line and from the opposite arm. And then they took more blood from the forearm of the arm with the PICC line. All of this was immediately set out to culture. The reason they took blood from the PICC line was that they also wanted to see if the PICC line had anything growing. At that point, they added Vancomycin (yet another very powerful broad spectrum antibiotic) to my treatment.
The next morning, more blood work from all the same places. They explained to me that cultures take 48 to 72 hours to grow. They also explained that even though I had all that blood taken the previous evening, my hospital doctor wanted to have the blood taken again to make sure nothing was missed. In addition, Doc B ordered the PICC line removed. The end of the PICC line (the part that was in my heart) was cut off and sent in for testing for infection. Now it was a waiting game to see what all the cultures might grow.
During the next few days, my fever reduced pretty radically. By Sunday, my fever was very low grade and stayed mostly between 98 and 99.5 (sound familiar?). I was feeling much better and one of my doctors (Doc A) suggested that I might be going home tomorrow. She shared that all culture growth was NEGATIVE (very good). In addition, my white cell count was completely normal (also good) and my liver function was normal. The doctor also suggested that they may skip putting in another PICC line and may send me home with just oral antibiotics (halleluia!).
So here I sit, waiting for tomorrow.
As a side note, I have mentioned very little about my roommates. My current roommate is a gentleman in his late 80's that was admitted to our room just about one hour before me on Thursday evening. He is a very nice fellow with a spunky, upbeat wife and fine family. I will not talk about his condition since it is none of anyone's business, but I will share this one bit of information. Tonight (Sunday night), he is prepping for a colonoscopy in the morning. These are small rooms and he cannot make it to the bathroom, so he has to use a little portapotty next to his bed. Those of you who have had a colonoscopy know what kind of evening he (and I) are in for.
I wanted to share this little tidbit just to give you a smile and let you know that very little that happens in the hospital, happens in a vacuum, so to speak. Without question, I have been taking more walks this evening in the hospital than I have in all the other days combined that I have been here.
It is now 11:30pm and it looks like he may have a few more visits before he, and I, get any sleep. Smile tonight when you try to imagine sleeping through that.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 9)
It was early in the evening on Monday when the doctor pulled the tube out of my back. It was now about 10 days since I was discharged from the hospital. The tube draining my liver abscess was gone and the extreme muscle spasms caused by the tube were fading quickly. I was still on "round the clock" IV antibiotics, but that seemed simple compared to the muscle spasms and the drain bag I had been carrying around for the past few weeks.
Tuesday came, and the muscle spasms were completely gone. Unfortunately, I had some pulled muscles in my ribcage from the previous muscle spasms that were still quite sore, but nothing that was like the spasms themselves.
About midday on Tuesday, I started to run a fever. To be fair, I had been running a slight fever for weeks with my temps staying in the 96.6 to 99.6 range. But this was different, these temps started to spike above 100 and were not coming down very easily. In addition, I was really feeling this fever, I was weak, dizzy and body achy. I thought at first that the fever spike might be from the pulling of the drain tube and any "liquid" that might have spilled into my body. But after a couple of days of this new fever spike, I started to become concerned.
On Thursday, Sara contacted my doctor (Doc B) to see what we should do, and she told us to go directly to the hospital. This was two weeks to the day after I had been discharged. Just when things seemed to be going so well...
Tuesday came, and the muscle spasms were completely gone. Unfortunately, I had some pulled muscles in my ribcage from the previous muscle spasms that were still quite sore, but nothing that was like the spasms themselves.
About midday on Tuesday, I started to run a fever. To be fair, I had been running a slight fever for weeks with my temps staying in the 96.6 to 99.6 range. But this was different, these temps started to spike above 100 and were not coming down very easily. In addition, I was really feeling this fever, I was weak, dizzy and body achy. I thought at first that the fever spike might be from the pulling of the drain tube and any "liquid" that might have spilled into my body. But after a couple of days of this new fever spike, I started to become concerned.
On Thursday, Sara contacted my doctor (Doc B) to see what we should do, and she told us to go directly to the hospital. This was two weeks to the day after I had been discharged. Just when things seemed to be going so well...
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 8)
The afternoon I was released from the hospital, my doctors told me that I would need to return to the hospital in exactly one week (left on Thursday, need to return on Thursday) for another CAT scan to assess how the treatment was doing in regards to shrinking the abscess. The doctors were very clear that I needed to return in exactly one week (next Thursday), and then they sent me on my way.
As you read in my previous post, that week was anything but restful. The constant pain/ muscle spasms from the drain tube in my liver kept me exhausted. The IV antibiotics that I was being fed was not only very strong, but a very large dose. So large/strong, in fact, that every nurse that was charged with setting up my IV antibiotic in the hospital would stop just before starting the drip and and with a concerned look would ask, "What is wrong with you?!?". I would tell them a liver abscess, and they would respond, "Ohhhhh...". So, in addition to the muscle spasms from the drain, the IV antibiotics would make me nauseous and down right crappy. But the promise that the CAT scan on Thursday might bring the removal of the drain tube was a dim but welcome light at the and of the tunnel.
Thursday came. My Personal Choice health insurance ran out and my Keystone HMO kicked in on that day, Thursday November 1st. I stopped eating 3 hours before the CAT scan and drank my radioactive liquid 2 hours and 1 hour before the procedure exactly as directed. After the second dose of radioactive liquid, Sara and I set off to the hospital.
We went directly to Radiology to register for the CAT scan. Upon handing the doctor prescription for the CAT scan to the nurse, we hit the first snag.
"You are here the wrong day", stated the nurse plainly.
My surprised reaction, "What? We were told to come here today to have this procedure done"
The nurse replied, "Take a look at the prescription"
Sure enough, the date on the prescription showed Thursday November 1st as the date of the procedure, but the "1" was scribbled over with a darker "5". Yikes, I just drank a quart of radioactive fluid for nothing!
"I just drank the fluid, can you fit me in?" I asked.
The nurse replied, "Let me see what we can do."
I sat in the waiting room as the nurse called the scheduling supervisor. Then they found another problem.
"Mr, Duffey?"
"Yes?"
"What is your current health insurance?"
"Keystone HMO"
"This could be a problem"
After waiting another 2 hours, the supervisor came to talk to me and explained that having this CAT scan in this hospital would not be allowed by Keystone HMO, even though my entire illness was being dealt with at that hospital. The problem is that my primary doctor was not associated with Chester County hospital. This meant that I was going to have to go to another hospital to have the CAT scan done. In addition, the doctor who put the drain in my liver was not going to be able to remove the drain since he was not associated with the other hospital. YIKES!!!
They sent me home without doing the CAT scan. Their hands were tied. Sara and I discussed the financial advantages of staying with the HMO against the health advantages of returning to the Personal choice. We decided to immediately drop the HMO plan and go back to the Personal choice plan. Our agent and the regional supervisor were very helpful and did the paper work immediately. Within 24 hours, we were back on our old plan and could finish getting well with the doctors who had been working with me all along.
I returned on Monday to the hospital, 2 doses of radioactive liquid in my belly, and had the CAT scan. Doc C looked at the pictures and said that the abscess had reduced in size significantly.
I asked, "Is it half the original size?"
He replied, "Closer to a tenth"
Relieved, I said, "Will you be able to remove the drain?"
He smiled, "Definitely, we will remove it now"
I was sitting in an exam room next to Radiology. He told me to lean forward as I sat on the exam table.
"You are going to feel a little pressure"
Sheepishly, I asked, "Will it hurt"
"No."
True to his word, I felt a little pressure and then the tube was out. This was a huge step forward in my recovery.
As you read in my previous post, that week was anything but restful. The constant pain/ muscle spasms from the drain tube in my liver kept me exhausted. The IV antibiotics that I was being fed was not only very strong, but a very large dose. So large/strong, in fact, that every nurse that was charged with setting up my IV antibiotic in the hospital would stop just before starting the drip and and with a concerned look would ask, "What is wrong with you?!?". I would tell them a liver abscess, and they would respond, "Ohhhhh...". So, in addition to the muscle spasms from the drain, the IV antibiotics would make me nauseous and down right crappy. But the promise that the CAT scan on Thursday might bring the removal of the drain tube was a dim but welcome light at the and of the tunnel.
Thursday came. My Personal Choice health insurance ran out and my Keystone HMO kicked in on that day, Thursday November 1st. I stopped eating 3 hours before the CAT scan and drank my radioactive liquid 2 hours and 1 hour before the procedure exactly as directed. After the second dose of radioactive liquid, Sara and I set off to the hospital.
We went directly to Radiology to register for the CAT scan. Upon handing the doctor prescription for the CAT scan to the nurse, we hit the first snag.
"You are here the wrong day", stated the nurse plainly.
My surprised reaction, "What? We were told to come here today to have this procedure done"
The nurse replied, "Take a look at the prescription"
Sure enough, the date on the prescription showed Thursday November 1st as the date of the procedure, but the "1" was scribbled over with a darker "5". Yikes, I just drank a quart of radioactive fluid for nothing!
"I just drank the fluid, can you fit me in?" I asked.
The nurse replied, "Let me see what we can do."
I sat in the waiting room as the nurse called the scheduling supervisor. Then they found another problem.
"Mr, Duffey?"
"Yes?"
"What is your current health insurance?"
"Keystone HMO"
"This could be a problem"
After waiting another 2 hours, the supervisor came to talk to me and explained that having this CAT scan in this hospital would not be allowed by Keystone HMO, even though my entire illness was being dealt with at that hospital. The problem is that my primary doctor was not associated with Chester County hospital. This meant that I was going to have to go to another hospital to have the CAT scan done. In addition, the doctor who put the drain in my liver was not going to be able to remove the drain since he was not associated with the other hospital. YIKES!!!
They sent me home without doing the CAT scan. Their hands were tied. Sara and I discussed the financial advantages of staying with the HMO against the health advantages of returning to the Personal choice. We decided to immediately drop the HMO plan and go back to the Personal choice plan. Our agent and the regional supervisor were very helpful and did the paper work immediately. Within 24 hours, we were back on our old plan and could finish getting well with the doctors who had been working with me all along.
I returned on Monday to the hospital, 2 doses of radioactive liquid in my belly, and had the CAT scan. Doc C looked at the pictures and said that the abscess had reduced in size significantly.
I asked, "Is it half the original size?"
He replied, "Closer to a tenth"
Relieved, I said, "Will you be able to remove the drain?"
He smiled, "Definitely, we will remove it now"
I was sitting in an exam room next to Radiology. He told me to lean forward as I sat on the exam table.
"You are going to feel a little pressure"
Sheepishly, I asked, "Will it hurt"
"No."
True to his word, I felt a little pressure and then the tube was out. This was a huge step forward in my recovery.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 7)
Some interesting things happened after being released from the hospital. However in an effort to keep the mundane separate for the more interesting, I will quickly review the mundane first.
My life at home centered around the tubes that ran into and out of my body. To maintain these tubes, an infusion nurse was sent (within an hour of leaving the hospital) to teach me how to do my own IV infusion. She was a very competent and friendly woman who made me feel comfortable with the following routine:
How intense? Without a bit of exaggeration, I would like you to imagine someone with a 10" ice pick with a 240 volt power line attached to that ice pick. Out of the blue, they deeply stab you with that ice pick. You get the stabbing feeling with the severe electric shock at the same time. I can tell you right now that when this happens, it is very difficult to experience the wind being completely knocked from your body without adding an expletive to the last bit of air forced from your lungs. From there, it would often take hours for me to be able to loosen up my breathing muscles enough to get a half of a breath. And trying to get a larger breath, trying to loosen up by stretching, trying to sit comfortably, trying to do practically anything but stand still would invite the fellow with the electric ice pick to do his level best to knock any air that you possess in your lungs completely from your body again. At night, I would take some Motrin to help dull the pain, but it really did not help much.
Everyday, a wonderful nurse would travel to my house to flush saline into my liver and to empty the bag that was collecting fluids. Amazingly, the act of flushing saline into the liver did not cause pain. It did feel sort of creepy, like someone was gently moving around one of your organs.
So this was the mundane, daily routine of my existence at home. But things were about to get much more interesting. Before I had gotten sick, Sara and I decided to change for a Personal Choice health plan to a Keystone HMO plan to help save money for Jame's college. The change over date for the health plans was November 1st, the day I was to go back to the hospital to get a CAT scan of the abscess and see how it was progressing. As you might imagine, the change between health plans was anything but smooth.
My life at home centered around the tubes that ran into and out of my body. To maintain these tubes, an infusion nurse was sent (within an hour of leaving the hospital) to teach me how to do my own IV infusion. She was a very competent and friendly woman who made me feel comfortable with the following routine:
- Wash hands.
- Dry hands with clean paper towel.
- Open alcohol wipe.
- Clean port going into my arm with wipe.
- Open Saline Syringe and squeeze out any air pockets.
- Attach saline syringe to port.
- Open IV locks.
- Slowly pump syringe till all saline flushed into IV port.
- Open Antibiotic Eclipse ball.
- Remove saline syringe and attach Eclipse ball to IV port (do not allow any tips to touch anything)
- Open Eclipse ball and allow to run till empty (approximately 1 hour)
- When empty, detach Eclipse ball from line and attach fresh saline syringe.
- Slowly pump syringe till all saline flushed into IV port.
- Open Heparin syringe and remove saline syringe.
- Attach Heparin syringe and pump into IV line.
- Close IV locks.
- Remove Heparin syringe and wait about 5 hours to do this all over again.
How intense? Without a bit of exaggeration, I would like you to imagine someone with a 10" ice pick with a 240 volt power line attached to that ice pick. Out of the blue, they deeply stab you with that ice pick. You get the stabbing feeling with the severe electric shock at the same time. I can tell you right now that when this happens, it is very difficult to experience the wind being completely knocked from your body without adding an expletive to the last bit of air forced from your lungs. From there, it would often take hours for me to be able to loosen up my breathing muscles enough to get a half of a breath. And trying to get a larger breath, trying to loosen up by stretching, trying to sit comfortably, trying to do practically anything but stand still would invite the fellow with the electric ice pick to do his level best to knock any air that you possess in your lungs completely from your body again. At night, I would take some Motrin to help dull the pain, but it really did not help much.
Everyday, a wonderful nurse would travel to my house to flush saline into my liver and to empty the bag that was collecting fluids. Amazingly, the act of flushing saline into the liver did not cause pain. It did feel sort of creepy, like someone was gently moving around one of your organs.
So this was the mundane, daily routine of my existence at home. But things were about to get much more interesting. Before I had gotten sick, Sara and I decided to change for a Personal Choice health plan to a Keystone HMO plan to help save money for Jame's college. The change over date for the health plans was November 1st, the day I was to go back to the hospital to get a CAT scan of the abscess and see how it was progressing. As you might imagine, the change between health plans was anything but smooth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)