From Crisis To Waiting Game

Steve is home now, catching up on TV, Facebook, and sleep, having missed all in the hospital.

It started when he complained early Tuesday morning that he was having trouble breathing. He didn't look like he was struggling for air, no wheezing, gasping, nor any other symptoms, so having been there myself I immediately pulled out the blood oxygen & pulse finger monitor. His blood ox was low 90s but his pulse was in the low 40s. That has been happening more frequently in the last couple months. He never quite thought it was an emergency, and usually it stopped quickly. I'd made him promise if it got worse, or even happened that badly again, that we'd call 911 this time. Part of that was the frustration of getting no response from his primary doc about a referral to a cardiologist. We both knew if he showed up in an ambulance he'd get immediate attention, rather than the current usual of sitting in the ER for hours, ignored.

Just to verify our plan that morning, I called the nurse help line, giving them his heart rate number, and was told to call 911. No dithering. So I did. With my MN area code on my cell, they always ask where I was. Then what I needed. In less than a minute an ambo was on its way. Just as I was getting that assurance, along with a request that I stay on the line, my battery died. Because of course. It waited as long as absolutely necessary, but then reminded me that I tend to forget to charge it these days. When I worked, I'd charge it every night because I was on it all day. I even had a car charger for when I wore the battery out anyway. But now I can go three days without giving the phone a thought beyond putting it in my pocket before leaving the house. I doesn't occur to me that I may have missed calls I actually wanted, until I  browse through the voicemails.

Anyway, I decided to walk out on the driveway and wait for the ambo to show up. We have our house address along the street and on the house itself. I figured an anxious wife could provide a faster address ID. It did. While they were unloading their gurney, I informed them I knew I had to relocate the car in the driveway so they could get the gurney past, and proceeded to do so. The first paramedics followed my instructions as to where to locate Steve while I was moving the car.

As soon as I got back in, he was already getting hooked up to the sticky-tab leads connected to their monitor. They registered what they read, and started packing him up for transport.  He was still in the low 40s. There was no question as to whether they would transport, it was how soon they could get him there. Steve and I had a quick discussion of what I'd need to  do/bring before I could follow and he was gone. The rescue squad truck which had arrived during this process also left as soon as he was in the ambulance.

Steve told me later that the hospital doc met the ambulance as soon as the gurney was inside the ER doors, even pushing the paramedics aside while giving Steve a quick exam. He was still maintaining around 40. Instructions were given and he was wheeled into his room, hooked up to even more hardware, given blood draws and whatever else needed before I got there. What did happen during his wait was, while hooked into the monitors and thus recorded, his rate dropped into the 20s a couple times. Thank goodness it's not like taking the car to the mechanic just to find it won't make the noise you brought it in for until after you leave in it again! Steve was getting serious attention!

It was early enough in the morning when I first got there that there were still a couple parking spots in the lot outside the ER doors. The hospital had built a fancy addition on since either of us had last been admitted, but visitor parking and ER parking were now combined, without planning on a much larger parking lot being needed. They do offer valet parking (to where?) and signs suggesting Lyft. By the time one is there hunting nonexistent  parking spaces, Lyft is much too late a consideration. I did manage to find the last space each of the three times I parked, after passing cars stopped at the head of aisles waiting for somebody, anybody, to pull out.

In the ER I was sent straight to his room. We killed a couple hours there before I left to get things he needed once we knew he'd be admitted. The deciding factor for that was having his pulse rate drop as it did. While I was still there he was given a nebulizer treatment, with meds in it both to make sure his lungs were wide open and to help increase his heart rate, back to 55. He had the usual electrodes, plus now a pair of huge patches front and back surrounding his heart and attached to a portable machine. This one was in case they needed to shock him. It would be available in an instant rather than another 20-30 seconds fussing. Staff was always helpful, informative, and responded quickly, except for interrupting a very busy doctor just to answer a question they mostly knew how to answer by themselves.

Once home, I gave myself a couple hours. Some of it was to relax, eat, and walk the dog, and some to hunt down his glasses, charger cords and a couple pair of comfy knit shorts that hadn't made it back from the clean laundry pile to his room. Rich helped.

By the time I returned  he was in his own room for continued observation.The huge patches were still there, stayed on till he checked out, but the machine had disappeared. He was still officially NPO, meaning no food or water in case surgery was needed, but that got lifted just in time for him to order supper. He'd missed lunch, so that was brought an hour before supper! People paraded through, some for administrative stuff, some to check on personal needs or show him the bed, phone, and TV controls. Typical hospital stuff. I was assured that continued through the night. He didn't get much sleep. He says it wasn't any, but I suspect he dropped off briefly at times.

The next morning was also Senior (1st) Wednesday at the grocery store, conveniently after many SS checks go through, meaning we'd been waiting to stock up on groceries for a few days until we could buy them for 10% off everything. It's the busiest day of every month, needless to say. I did my shopping early, meaning I got there before 7, and emerged at 8:20 with an overflowing cart and $250 dollars poorer. Kinda tired as well. Rich helped carry everything in the house so I could put it away. What I didn't do was get Steve's list. First, his writing is something he's capable of reading, but...  Second, when he says "salami", he knows what brand, variety, and  quantity. I don't. Our solution was to bring Rich on my morning visit to Steve, along with Steve's laptop, its charger, mouse and pad. He's been ordering online for months now, so instead of him hiking to the scooters, riding through the store, to the car to unload, back to the store, and hiking back to the car, we simply drive over and have the employees load his groceries in the hatch, all prepaid and any existing coupons and discounts applied even if you forgot to ask for them during the ordering. Rich was needed both for carrying everything,  and hooking him into the hospital wi-fi properly. His company was a bonus. The order was to be picked up that evening between 6 and 7, something I was sure we could follow through on.

When we walked in, Steve was on oxygen. Possibly as a precaution, possible because they registered the confusion he was showing when I last talked to him the night before. This visit we learned that there would be no pacemaker at this time. The doc had stopped his beta blocker and Steve was gradually easing off on the bradycardia. We're not even sure why he was on this med. I'd been given the same med years ago for A-fib, which Steve never had, and wound up with the same problem from it, so needing to stop was no surprise. What was a surprise was how well he responded to the changes. By this morning at home he was back to 70 bpm, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Rich & I left with the assurance that Steve was to be discharged later that afternoon. 

He was also back on the schedule for his 3x a day pain meds, something that got somewhat neglected the day before. The wonderful thing about those is every day they are getting better at eliminating his (formerly) intractable back pain, knee pain, and his recent hip pain. This one repairs damaged nerves. I might have thought they'd register pain more efficiently, but it seems it stops them from continuing to broadcast old pain, supposedly long gone. He no longer takes any other pain meds, including and especially the opioids he was starting to have problems getting. Never abused them, just a blanket policy change because too many others have been. This improvement means for him that even though the hospital bed, like all of them, never quite matches the curve in his back, and he should have been wretchedly in pain, it was a minor irritation.

Remember that expansion to the hospital?  The official visitor's and main entrance is now over on 103rd Ave. The old entrance, complete with a parking ramp, i.e.shaded parking, is now all for employees only, way on the other side, 105th Ave. The hike to Steve's room of course is from 105th to the 103rd end, with some zigs and zags to keep it both interesting and longer, and once to the west end, plus an elevator ride, it's back towards the middle again. I'd had enough exercise, thank you very much, by the time I'd visited him twice in his room, besides the ER visit and a long morning in the grocery store. Before I left with Rich, being informed he'd be sprung later that afternoon, I asked him to please inquire whether they would be willing to wheel him to the old main entrance, now the employee entrance. Once he was in the car, and a couple of times since, he assured me the young lady wheeling him out to the car was more than happy to have her trip cut much much shorter.

Today he had a visit with his primary, a post-hospital update. I came along, better able to fill in some details than Steve, who'd been a bit fuzzy during much of it. The guy is my primary too, and I'd just been in to see him last month. There is an appointment now with the cardiologist who saw Steve in the hospital. Turns out this doc is in my cardiologist's clinic. In fact (checks appointment card for my next visit) he's my official cardiologist, though we've never met. My old cardiologist left the practice shortly after I got everything fixed, and I only see his nurse practitioner and the tech who checks my pacemaker. 

Steve's appointment is not "within one week" that doc requested, but the appointment staffer was unimpressed. Best he could get is... because of course it is... the same day I'm getting my long awaited procedure postponed from January due to covid patients delaying treatment and only now catching up. Sans office masks of course. It's a good thing I didn't turn down an offer of a ride to/from mine, way back when, from a friend in the club, as I won't be able to drive after anesthetic. I knew I might not be able to count on Steve either, since he was so day-by-day back then. Since we're both postponed, I have no interest in changing either appointment. Steve can drive to his own now, practically next door to mine but a almost the identical schedule. His just won't last as long.

For both of us now it's a waiting game.