Moving Day

Unlock the briefcase with the launch codes, today we go nuclear, Nuclear Medicine that is. Renee went on an unscheduled field trip this morning for chest x-rays and tests. For the past couple of days Renee’s been experiencing some shortness of breath. This also happened a few times in Cleveland. So they figured they’d drop an atomic bomb full of dye and radiation into her system to try to locate the problem.

All of the doctors keep telling Renee how good she is going to feel after she gets through all of this. But none of the doctors told her up front how bad she was going to feel getting there.

During a break from the hospital yesterday, I shared a couple of glasses of homebrew with Brewmaster Dave. We commiserated over family medical problems. What I have found is that nothing you’re reading here is trailblazing. This is standard happenings for anyone who’s unlucky enough to land in the hospital. We both agreed that the doctors sometimes forget that, although much of this is routine to them and that they may see it on a daily basis, it is brand new to each patient and their families. But, I guess you can chalk a lot of it up to human nature. Damn humans!

Renee’s regular gastroenterologist stopped in yesterday. Renee relayed her discouragement at all of these issues that keep cropping up. In a sincere effort of encouragement (I’m not being sarcastic) the doctor said, “You’re going to get worse before you get better.” Thanks doc, that really cheers me up! He, in turn, relayed his own difficulties with a post-op abscess and a drain they ran through his rear end. (Hey, none of this is pretty folks.) He assured Renee that these difficulties all revolve around the post-op recovery process and the infection.

He was back in this morning and again put on his reassuring tone. He said that although there are a bunch of chefs here that he’s looking at the big picture. He said some of the doctors are being overly cautious in their approach. He used the word anal but that pun is too easy even for me. He wasn’t real thrilled that the drain is still producing a fair amount of discharge and that the incision though looking better today is also still draining. Renee told him how the attending doctor scared her by his talk about the fluid around her heart and all the other readings that are not turning in her favor. He came back with how the white counts are good and the hemoglobin has risen a bit, which means no transfusion, and that generally things are looking a little better. When he left Renee was feeling pretty good again about all that was going on.

Not ten minutes later the cardiologist appeared and spent a good fifteen to twenty minutes in the room. She asked about the shortness of breath and the pressure in the chest. She talked about current versus past EKG’s, platelets and blood thinners, beta blockers, cardiac catheters and stress tests, both standard and medicinal. Essentially she is concerned. She has ordered a medicinal stress test, this is where they inject you with drugs that simulate the heart activity that would occur if you were on the standard treadmill stress test. At least they realize that Renee is not in any shape right now to jump on a treadmill. This is the only way to determine if there is a possible blockage building without doing the cardiac-cath which they would like to avoid because of her post-op status. The good news, she said, is that Renee has not had a heart attack. The bad news is that Renee’s health history coupled with the EKG readings, the breathing difficulties, chest pressure, post-op recovery process and those platelets she talked about all make her a prime candidate for …BAM!

They’re not taking any chances. Renee was unceremoniously evicted from her private penthouse suite on the 6th floor and moved to a shared room on the 4th where the rooms have heart monitors. Well I exaggerate, (imagine that), it wasn’t really a penthouse and there was some ceremony. We had a parade bringing her and all her hospital belongings down to four. Renee was in the wheelchair and on her lap was a rectangular bucket filled with toiletries and a small vase with a couple of fresh flowers. She was being pushed by the purple clad nurse’s assistant who was trying to artfully drag along the IV stand without banging it into himself, the wheelchair, or anything else along the way. He was not a very skilled artisan. Behind him we had the nurse fumbling along with Renee’s Encyclopedia Brittanica sized chart and a bag of bedside goodies. Then came Cassidy with a neglected poinsettia and then me carrying a closetful of coats and totes. We really needed a marching band to round things out. The frivolity all came to an abrupt halt when Renee got a peek at the room they had ready for her. In Linda Blair fashion, she spun her head completely around and growled while spitting fire, “PUT ME ON THE PRIVATE ROOM LIST!”

Tomorrow is the CT Scan of the abscess, then the blood doctors are going to review the platelet count issue along with other abnormalities and an infectious disease specialist is coming in for a consult on what exactly is happening due to the enterococcus battle that is being waged on Renee’s system.

The stress test can’t be scheduled until Wednesday due to possible interaction with dye’s and radiation from other tests that were conducted this morning, so guess where Renee’s New Year’s Eve party is going to be.

Let’s just hope that no one at the hospital drops the ball.