You know at my age and with my history, not forgetful of the fact Im still around to write these rants, the last people on Earth I would want to anger are those in the medical profession, so Ill choose my words rather carefully for this little ditty. Im in the hospital this morning, Athens Limestone Hospital to be precise. Spent the day here yesterday and the night here last night. I honestly believe I will be paroled out later today, as soon as the warden, my doctor, graces us with a visit. It all started Monday morning when I decided to go visit the local Doc-in-a-Box for what I thought might have been bronchitis brought on by the thick, yellow waves of pollen that have been blowing through here lately like low-hanging clouds. My chest was kinda sore, Id been coughing and I was a little short of breath. Thats important. At the clinic, Im not certain the woman even looked up at me before handing me the clipboard to fill out, the pen permanently attached with something like a logging chain. As I started to walk away, I looked down at the piece of paper I was to fill out and in huge letters, at the top of the page, all caps, it said TELL US NOW IF YOU HAVE CHEST PAINS, SHORTNESS OF BREATH... And the list of other maladies went on. I turned around and showed her the clipboard pointing at the first two lines and told her thats why Im here. We made eye contact at that point, she was on the phone and literally within five seconds the first nurse was there. And so it began. I think I have bronchitis, I remember telling the nurse. Have you ever had a heart attack, she asked? Yeah, a couple but I really think this is bronchitis or something... Are you hurting now? Yeah, my chest hurts a little, but only when I breathe. Why are you breathing that way? Cause it hurts! Well, by this time a nervous doctor and another nurse, this one of Middle Eastern descent, had joined the party and someone noticed I was a little sweaty, cold and clammy they called it. Guys, I really think this is a sinus issue. The first nurse explained I had all of the classic symptoms of someone having a heart attack and wanted to know if anyone had come with me. I was alone. Ill just drive myself up to the hospital then... No, the immediate shout from the doctor! The ambulance was called. From that point theres a certain protocol thats followed. Compare it, if you will, to the criminal court system where its written, but not always practiced, you are innocent until proven guilty. By comparison, I had stumbled into a world filled with highly educated, motivated and well-meaning souls who would operate to the very end of this exercise under the belief I was guilty of having a heart attack until either I or a battery of tests, x-rays and scans could prove me innocent. And only the paramedic in the ambulance had the courage to look past the disaster response plan and hear what I was saying, and agree. The day passed. The emergency room of any hospital is a sobering place to be. The heavy blue curtains drawn on the sliding glass doors that would have separated me from the rest of the department only prevented me from seeing what I was hearing. In a different room nearby, a woman was coughing much worse that I ever have. Down the hall in another room, a baby cried. Across the hall at the doctors and nurses station, the murmur of conversation, consultations, orders for patients and notes for their charts. A nurse would answer the two-way radio, another paramedic in another ambulance, this time in a bare-knuckle fight with death to get a patient to the hospital alive. Over the unmistakable sound of a straining engine and siren, the medics voice un-calm but far from panicked, with full authority explained the gravity of his situation. CPR in progress when we arrived... I wish I could repeat it verbatim but essentially they had continued CPR until a defibrillator could be employed, IVs had been started, fluids and medicines had been administered, the patient now had a normal sinus rhythm and was talking to them and that all happened in the back of a crowded ambulance. Within a minute or two, we heard the diesel engine as the vehicle pulled onto the ramp, the doors slid open, the gurney was wheeled inside. I could no longer hear the woman coughing or the baby crying. The murmur at the nurses station intensified and trailed off behind the gurney. Moments later the family arrived, and just as quickly disappeared down the same hallway as the gurney. In my room we sat and waited. Down the hall a woman coughed, a baby cried. Occasionally a nurse would step in and ask if I was okay or needed anything. The doctor explained I would be kept overnight for observation. The tests had essentially eliminated the possibility of another cardiac event, thank God, and had even eliminated the possibility of pneumonia. It was bronchitis alright, but there was something more. Observation. Being told I would be kept overnight for observation reminds me of the old black and white cop movies where they just take someone in for questioning. We know you probably didnt do anything, Mr. Whitaker, but were gonna give you a chance to confess anyhow. Observation. The kinder, gentler way of explaining were going to send someone to your room every 3 or 4 minutes during your stay to draw blood, give you a shot, ask a few questions, squeeze the life out of the arm thats not sporting the IV, prick your finger, take your temperature, ask another couple of questions, share a few of our own personal experiences, give you a pill to swallow, and tell you we hope you get some rest. Actually, I did get some rest. There was a four and a half-hour period of time last night they left me alone, and I slept. Before that I wandered the halls, took a few pictures, and panicked a woman in the Labor & Delivery Waiting Room. I was pacing around and she asked if I had someone in labor there... I was in a hospital gown... Told her no, I was a patient in the communicable diseases unit and they hadnt been able to figure out what I have or how contagious it is, and that I was just out walking around. Without another word, she got up, walked to the elevator and left. Stopped off at the nurses station and was watching the heart monitors. Im wearing one. I asked the nurse which one was mine, Yours is number 7, bottom left on the display. Okay, I just wanted to make sure it was working. The display? My heart. Its working just fine, actually. Apparently the bronchitis I had a few weeks ago never fully went away, which comes as no real surprise, I havent felt good since then. Well, its advanced a little, into the lungs, and theres some infection. Explains why Ive felt so tired and run down. Also, the symptoms mimic pneumonia and even heart disease. Thats the bad news. Good news is its all very treatable and even the doctor believes I should be back at work later this week. I take away from this an even deeper respect for EMTs and paramedics. The work they do is amazing. I will always finish filling out the form at the doc-in-a-box before I say a word to anyone about anything. Theres a secret stash of salt and sugar packets at the nurses station, and a smile or a friendly word goes a long way with most of them. I hate Jello, in any flavor or form. I hate it because if its on my plate, Im in the hospital. And while Im on the subject, that gluten-free, 100% vegan, 0g trans fat, low cholesterol Smart Balance buttery spread tastes nothing like butter or margarine. In fact, I can think of nothing socially acceptable to compare it to. And Im reminded yet again, you dont usually have to look very far to find someone who is suffering more than you are. You may like to know the man brought in by ambulance survived. Once he was stable, doctors transferred him to Huntsville for more specialized care. Dont know his name, but I know what saved him and I wish him a speedy and complete recovery. Now... Before the doctor returns with my reprieve, Ive got time for a little fun. A lot of people simply cannot resist the urge to look in every open door they pass while walking down a hospital corridor. I believe I can cure a few of them. Will try to get photos. Back to you...
Posted on: Tue, 22 Apr 2014 17:47:25 +0000
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