Commotion

Tighten up the drawstring and hold on to your swim trunks campers we’re going off the high dive head first. Could someone please make sure there is water in the pool!

Being the center of attention in the hospital is never a good thing. Unless you are the therapy dog who we hear will make a visit this afternoon. That is the good news.

Renee called me before I got down to breakfast. There’ll be no release today. She’s still feeling lousy and it’s not improving. It’s 9:30 A.M. while I’m writing this. There are three nurses currently at Renee’s side, a stoma nurse to rework the whole bag thing which was switched last night to a gravity feed due to high output, an IV nurse and her regular nurse, who is here to insert an NG tube and draw blood for tests. They also ordered an EKG just to round out the battery of tests.

They’ve ordered a CT scan to “try to see if we can get an idea of what might be happening.” I’m feeling that Déjà vu thing, except I know we’ve been here before. At least there are no hallucinations this time.

Renee hasn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday so the high output from the ileostomy is puzzling. There is also extreme pressure in the abdomen. The IV nurse is having a real hard time trying to find a good vein. It has to be a bigger one to feed the contrast into for the CT scan. She got the blood drawn but now they’re talking about inserting a PICC line. It is a semi-permanent IV access port which can be used for both drawing blood and giving intravenous medication. Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter is the technical term.

The surgeon came in amidst all this commotion and talked about what is going on. “It is a good thing you stayed here,” he says. Nah, I could have handled this on the car ride home. Darn, I forget to pack the portable CT scanner so it is a good thing we hung around. But then again, I don’t remember anyone doing anything more than discussing possibilities of a Monday discharge. He said that this discomfort is most likely due to a food blockage in the bowels. They have been stretched to the max to accommodate the J-Pouch and are swollen from being rearranged. It is common for things to get hung up before everything adjusts to the new layout. The CT scan will confirm this.

Renee keeps saying, “but I felt so good the other day.” The best comeback line came from the nurse, “It sucks but it’s crappy.” I couldn’t have said it better.

They’re pumping some contrast through the NG tube and the scanner team will do an additional IV line as they said they can’t wait for the picc line crew. The picc line also needs ultrasound guidance for input and a chest X-ray to make sure it’s properly placed. Lining all this up on a Monday in the hospital takes time. Apparently no-one is willing to wait that long. That’s comforting! They are all so calm and reassuring, saying repeatedly this is normal in these situations, but I swear I saw a glint of the Oh Shit Factor in a few of those darting eyes.

This is not my first time through watching how things work, we are all hoping for the lodged food scenario to reveal itself on the scan and for it to work itself out as the pressure is released through the NG tube. But, all of these tests are to make sure it’s not something worse. Plus, this is Renee we’re talking about. She’s not leaving the hospital without exhausting every employee and machine they’ve got. If she’s going to suffer they’re going to suffer.

It’s now 11:40 A.M., it has been a very busy couple of hours. The nurse just called for transport to the CT lab. This looks like my opportunity for lunch. Talk at ya later.