Continuing Adventures at the VA Medical Center (Conclusion)
I got there sometime between 8:00 and 8:30 Wednesday morning and he wasn’t in his room. The nurse told me he had been taken to get a test done. When he got back, he told me it was an ultrasound on his legs, the same thing he’d had done the first time he was at the VA Medical Center. He was told that his right leg (the one they worked on yesterday) looks the same as his left leg (the one that still has some blockage).
Then they decided he needed a potassium I.V. He normally takes a potassium pill per day, but he was told to take it with food & he had only eaten once yesterday and once this morning and hadn’t taken a pill either time.
The nurse had him hooked up and said she had it dripping pretty fast so he could be out by 1:00 PM, but if it started to burn he had to let her know. He was doing ok for a couple minutes but decided it was burning. She came back within minutes to check on him and ended up turning the IV machine down a little and told him to let her know if it still burned. Same thing a couple minutes later. He said he would tolerate it for as long as he could, but she explained that burning meant it was “eating things up” which was bad. She turned it down again and decided to check his other arm for veins and found “a big, juicy one”. She tried getting the IV needle in, but missed so she gave up (she was surprised she missed, she said she never misses). Then my uncle realized that every time he tried to recline his chair his arm started to burn. The nurse figured out that he was probably moving his arm in a way he shouldn’t "causing it to pool" while reclining the chair. The rest of the IV drip went slow but smoothly.
The nurse told him the dos & don’ts for the next few days. No heavy lifting. “How about a cold beer?”
“As long as it isn’t a keg.”
“No, just one can or bottle at a time.”
He looked at me, “That means I have to find someone else to dig the hole.”
“Yep, sorry,” I said. The last two years I dug the bonfire hole for the (Au Sable River canoe marathon) party.
Around 11:00 am or so, A. had arrived back and found us, so while he was being loaded with potassium, she & I went down to her car and chatted for a bit (while she had a cigarette).
I went back up somewhere between noonish and 1:00 and he said they were just waiting to see if his potassium level was satisfactory. It was. The nurse called down to the pharmacy to make sure his prescriptions (Perocet and Plavix) were called in by the surgeon and my uncle got dressed and we left.
We made it the 20 yards or so to the elevators and down to the 1st floor and checked the area where the monitors are that lists patient prescriptions that are ready. His name wasn’t there yet. They would be ready shortly. That was when he decided his legs hurt to the point where he couldn’t walk so we nabbed a wheelchair and I rolled him through the lobby to the other end where the parking garage is. He saw a different wheelchair (the one he was in had small back wheels, the one he preferred had large wheel-yourself back wheels). That way he could wheel himself around if I was off doing something else. I rolled him to just inside the garage where the smoking area is and went to get A. (who was just a couple cars over) and let her know he was almost ready but needed his VA ID card to get his prescriptions and her gas reimbursement (she needed his card in order to drive out of the garage for free. I usually was just told I could get a validation slip from the admitting area).
While they stood there smoking, another woman had walked up and sat down and had a cigarette. A. asked her about the "old building" and where was it located. I mentioned in yesterday's post that the letter my uncle received said if they arrived between 4:30 PM and 8:00 AM they were to go to the "old building", but no mention of where it was located.
The woman showed us that by looking out of the parking garage, the building on the left was the "old building". We talked about how unclear that was. She said we were not the first to complain about it. She said she was on some committee or other in which she could bring the matter up and see about having it explained better in letters. Many more people are in the same situation in which they are being driven there from other parts of Michigan and don't know the new building from the old building. I mentioned perhaps including a small map of the hospital campus with letters or maybe having signs out front. My uncle showed her the letter he got. She asked if she could keep it and show it to whomever she had to show it to. My uncle agreed.
He finished his cigarette and I wheeled him back to the other side of the hospital where we first got in line for reimbursement, then to pharmacy pick up. In the meantime, the new wheelchair had a short IV pole so I hung my small bag that had my journal in it. I took with me Tuesday to try to get caught up in it. I never did.
After we were all finished, I took him back to the garage and we set off for a Red Lobster 4 miles away. My uncle bought lunch for all of us. Yum. It’s been ages since I’ve had Red Lobster. Several years, in fact.
Afterwards, we said our “see you laters” and went our separate ways. On my way back to my car it suddenly occurred to me that I couldn’t remember if I had grabbed the bag with my journal in it from the pole on the wheelchair. I couldn’t find it in my car. So I drove all the way back to the medical center. There isn’t really anywhere for non-employees to park other than the garage so I had to go back in there. I drove up to the “guard shelter” and explained that I was there earlier but had to come back because I may have left something behind. He told me if I found it quickly enough he would only charge me a quarter. I agreed. I parked and first checked the wheelchairs right at the doors that open from the garage to the hospital where we had left the chair. Not there. I went all the way into the lobby and asked at the information desk if anyone had turned in a green bag with a green book inside. There were 3 people there. One girl spoke up immediately. “Yes!” She told me it was taken down to the basement, to the mailroom/lost & found and told me how to get there. Just as I got there someone closed the door. I saw 3 other people going into a room nearby and asked if there was a separate lost & found. No. Usually stuff is taken into the actual mailroom, but it is now closed. They asked what I needed. I explained that I’d left my journal hanging on the back of a wheelchair but was told at the info desk that it was taken down there. One guy told me how to find the stairs and to go up half a flight and down the hall to the police. They were the only other ones who could get into the mailroom. I went to the police room. I asked one guy standing in the doorway. He asked an officer inside the room. The officer confirmed that they could, but asked who had told me that and why. I explained everything, telling him it was my personal journal. We walked back down to the mailroom, but he led me to a different door where there were 3 or 4 people still inside. He knocked & one of them opened the door. I asked if they were given a green bag containing a green book. “With pens in it?” “Yes!” I exclaimed. He went to the back of the room where it was sitting on a table. I took it and thanked him profusely and admitted what it was. The officer and I left and I profusely thanked the officer several times, and then headed back to the elevators and the lobby. As I passed the information desk, no one was there, just a telephone sitting there with instructions. I think they were done for the day as well. Whew!
I got back to my car & headed out of the garage. I stopped at the “security shelter” and gave the guy back the card he had given me, along with a quarter. He asked if I found the thing I lost. Yes, I told him, my journal. He said he hoped no one had snooped in it. I told him that it wouldn’t have matter, I write in it with the idea that someone years from now may actually have some (strange) idea of actually reading it. “Oh, you don’t actually put anything really personal in it?”
“No,” I said.
“Well, at least you found it.”
We exchanged “have a nice days” and I left.