Jaci Dawn

Guess what I did today? I went hospital surfing. I’m not certain it will catch on as a sport but I am certain some family members will be put out because they didn’t know I went hospital surfing. I do hope they will read the whole blog and will understand that 1)there really wasn’t anything to report and 2) I was dealing with my own issues on top of lack of sleep, so something as simple as making a phone call kind of went out the window. Fatigue will do that to you.

My alternate title for this blog is “Things to do on Your Day Off at the Hospital.”

Or “Why is there a blue latex glove on the ground outside my house?”

There really was a blue latex glove on the ground outside the house this morning.

I really did have the day off, too. I had two appointments: a 10:00 with the dentist to set a crown and a 2:30 with a CT Scan. I figured that between them, it wasn’t worth driving to work in between. As it was, I never made it to the dentist appointment. That was rescheduled for Friday at 3:00.

Last night, Don & I met in the kitchen to talk. We do that frequently when the weather is too bad to go sit outside in lawn chairs (which is most of the time here). He leans against the kitchen sink and I stand by the stove and we recount our day, our concerns for our kids, what we have planned for our immediate future and long term future, and everything under the sun. Don poured a second glass of wine for both of us and I contemplated how soon I could get into bed even though I didn’t have to get up early in the morning.

He turned a funny ashen color and looked around nervously. “I feel dizzy.”

“Do you want me to help you walk to your chair?”

He nodded and mumbled, turning paler. I stepped forward to put my shoulder under his armpit but he just collapsed in front of me. Kind of slid down the front of the cupboards, landing gently in a sitting position with legs akimbo and eyes wide open and blank. He wasn’t there.

I reached for the phone and dialed 9-1-1. I detailed quickly what had just happened, where I lived and that my husband had a history of A-Fib. Sometime during the first few moments of the call, Don roused himself a little and looked up at me.

“Why did you call 9-1-1?”

<pause for you to absorb that line>

I finished my call with the operator by explaining that I had to secure our two big dogs before the paramedics arrived. Then I hauled the pair of them outside and into their outdoor kennels. Hurried back in, realized I was bra-less and corrected that (a girl has to do what a girl has to do to save the minds of unsuspecting paramedics).

Oh, sure, laugh. But I want to know: how many of you who wear bras during the day time, ditch that torture device as soon as you walk in that front door after work?

Things happened very quickly from that point on: four burly firemen came into my kitchen and stuck pieces of tape onto Don’s body (and even shaved some of his chest although I warned them that I like men with hairy chests – none of that body-builder shaved chest look for this woman!) and asked me questions about his health. Don was somewhat coherent at this point, more bewildered than anything. I’m sure he was thinking, “Did Jaci wash the dishes in the sink? Don’t let them go into the bathroom. It’s a mess…”

Then the ambulance arrived and the second shift came in. These guys came with Don’s own special guerney.

They also convinced me that they should take my husband to a hospital more capable of dealing with heart issues than the one down the street. So off to Meridian Park they headed. I made a last minute sweep through the house, called each one of the kids and gave them a five second “head’s up”, and then locked the door. I went a different way than the ambulance and beat them to the hospital.

From that point on, it got incredibly b-o-r-i-n-g. Don’s vitals were normal. They drew blood. We were left in an ER room behind a big curtain that zips together. Don had a roommate on the other side who said random things (loudly) like, “DON’T TALK LIKE THAT, THERE ARE SMALL CHILDREN HERE.” Once in awhile, between snores, snorks, and inarticulate grunts, said person would hear a nurse sneeze. “GEZUNDHEIT.”

Around 2AM, they determined Don would spend the night and they started the process of securing a room for him. I left. All the bars were closed as I drove through Oregon City – I can’t remember the last time I was out later than the bars were open. I let the kids know I was home and it looked OK.

At 4, I fell asleep. At 7, Murphy woke up and went looking (again) for Don. At 8, Murphy woke up and started to go looking for Don but I yelled at him and he lay back down. I called the dentist and canceled my appointment. At 9, the garbage men picked up the trash and Murphy went ballistic. At 9:30, I punished him by shoving him back into his outdoor kennel and leaving him. Take that, Murph!

Darn dog, anyway.

I reached the hospital by 10. And NOTHING WAS CHANGED – except, of course, that Don was in a room. Finally. He said he didn’t get a room until 8AM. It was that busy at the hospital although we were in the ICU wing and it seemed rather quiet there.

It was a long day of just sitting and waiting. I read three YA books that a friend mailed me a week ago. The Rugendo Rhinos Series. I hope the link works. It’s an aside, but I have a friend who grew up in the same mission as where the books are set and it’s kind of like a peek into that friend’s childhood.

I had to leave before the doctor got up to see Don because I have my own issues. Yes, I italicized that.

The whole reason for taking today off was so I could fit the CT Scan in. At another hospital, although if I had known I was going to be hanging out all day at Meridian Park, I certainly could have scheduled it for there. As it was, I had to hospital surf. I drove back to Willamette Falls Hospital so I could have an IV put into my arm (also) and iodine solution pumped into my veins.

You see, that stupid kidney thing is back. At least, we think it is in my kidneys. We don’t really know now that kidney stones have been effectively removed (from my kidneys and from the bigger picture). We’re back to the first imaging that was done in early 2011: the CT Scan with an iodine solution and diagnostic x-rays.

Meanwhile… well, if I can talk about remembering to put my bra on before paramedics show up, I guess I can throw this bit of TMI out, too: I pee red. Blood clots. Yeah. It’s all very mysterious and pain-less.

So if I didn’t call anyone, it’s because I was sort of preoccupied with my own stuff today. Hospital surfing. It’s a sport for the strong of spirit and weak of stomach (I avert my eyes when an IV is mentioned).

Anyway – the upshot of Don’s imprisonment is that the blood pressure meds they put him on during the original episode seem to be making his heart beat TOO slow. He spent the night restless because every time he drifted off to sleep, his heart rate dropped to 30 and he set off alarms. Otherwise, he’s the picture of health.

They took him off of that med and told him to follow up with his GP next week. I got to bring him home.

My issues? Well, we’ll find out Monday if they could find anything.

One last thing: Don *is* still talking to me even though he thinks the whole night-in-the-hospital was a waste of time (his) and resources (ours and the insurance company’s). I told him the moral of the story is simple: “Don’t faint in front of your wife. Ever. Not ever again.”

It’s not allowed.

Oh – and if you’re a family member that didn’t get called and you’re miffed, look at it this way: I am secretly practicing to see if I can beat your record for hospital surfing. Because we’re all becoming pretty good at this as we age, don’t you think??