It's been nice, but I think it's time for a change...
Ah, I received the call around 1:00 p.m. on Thursday; she was starting to feel pain in her stomach (an on-coming gall stone attack) and was leaving work to go home and sleep it off. At 2:15, however, she called back in excruciating pain - I dropped what I was doing at work, picked her up, and we were off to the ER again - the 4th time this week, the 10th time since mid January.
I'd been through the routine so many times; I couldn't help but feel somewhat disconnected. I held her in my arm as she rocked and moaned in pain. We waited in the ER waiting room for a bed to come available. This time it only took us a little over an hour. Knowing how much her tolerance for opiates had risen over the past few months I wasn't all that surprised that the 1st shot of deladon only worked for about 10 minutes. The pain came back hard, forcing her not only to rock, but to whimper and cry, to break down - "hang in there," I told her softly, "I know you're strong; you can handle this." Part of me knew that she was truly pushed to the limit. How much more she could really take no one knew.
The ER doctor we had seen before. We told him our story again - waiting for the insurance to clear and that we just recently received a consultation date for surgery for the 15 of April (though we've been waiting since mid January). He asked for the doctor’s name. "Dr. Asker." It turns out that she was on duty that afternoon. And she soon arrived at our bedside. "Honey," she said sweetly, "you'll never have to deal with this again. I'm taking you up to perform the surgery in about 15 minutes." Melissa signed the consent form as she listened to some of the details. But, oh god, finally - an end to this was coming.
They took her up to the 3rd floor at Sutter General, gave her a shot, and pushed her bed through double doors. I waited, reading Newsweek, for only an hour before Dr. Acker came to me and told me about the operation - every thing went smoothly. The gall bladder had been filled with puss and a number of stones: "One of the worst I've ever seen." "Yeah," I said, "she's been suffering for some time now."
After another hour I was able to see her. She was in a lot of pain, with 3 incisions in her abdomen. She was brought to a room in a bulky, 1970's style bed the nurses were have difficulty maneuvering, but at least they were able to park it into the room. After a while Melissa suggested I go home to rest. I did.
She called me at 7:00 the next morning. Not having time to visit her, I went into work, asked for an extended lunch, which I was granted, and saw her around noon. Though she was still in pain, she ate eagerly. At the end of her mean she held up a cookie to the nurse, "I haven't had one of these in over 3 months," she happily said. It was good to see her eating 'real' food again - ah, how much fruit and broth can someone eat?
After work today I saw her again. We snuck down to smoke - with her NaCl fluid stand in hand. It wasn't until about 8:00 tonight that they realized that the hourly injections of morphine weren't working too well, perhaps they should use some thing stronger. They gave her some delodon that seemed to help a little bit more. (We even named the stuffed dog I gave her weeks ago 'delodon'.) And so she remains there again tonight. If she's feeling up to it, we'll take her home tomorrow afternoon.
I'd been through the routine so many times; I couldn't help but feel somewhat disconnected. I held her in my arm as she rocked and moaned in pain. We waited in the ER waiting room for a bed to come available. This time it only took us a little over an hour. Knowing how much her tolerance for opiates had risen over the past few months I wasn't all that surprised that the 1st shot of deladon only worked for about 10 minutes. The pain came back hard, forcing her not only to rock, but to whimper and cry, to break down - "hang in there," I told her softly, "I know you're strong; you can handle this." Part of me knew that she was truly pushed to the limit. How much more she could really take no one knew.
The ER doctor we had seen before. We told him our story again - waiting for the insurance to clear and that we just recently received a consultation date for surgery for the 15 of April (though we've been waiting since mid January). He asked for the doctor’s name. "Dr. Asker." It turns out that she was on duty that afternoon. And she soon arrived at our bedside. "Honey," she said sweetly, "you'll never have to deal with this again. I'm taking you up to perform the surgery in about 15 minutes." Melissa signed the consent form as she listened to some of the details. But, oh god, finally - an end to this was coming.
They took her up to the 3rd floor at Sutter General, gave her a shot, and pushed her bed through double doors. I waited, reading Newsweek, for only an hour before Dr. Acker came to me and told me about the operation - every thing went smoothly. The gall bladder had been filled with puss and a number of stones: "One of the worst I've ever seen." "Yeah," I said, "she's been suffering for some time now."
After another hour I was able to see her. She was in a lot of pain, with 3 incisions in her abdomen. She was brought to a room in a bulky, 1970's style bed the nurses were have difficulty maneuvering, but at least they were able to park it into the room. After a while Melissa suggested I go home to rest. I did.
She called me at 7:00 the next morning. Not having time to visit her, I went into work, asked for an extended lunch, which I was granted, and saw her around noon. Though she was still in pain, she ate eagerly. At the end of her mean she held up a cookie to the nurse, "I haven't had one of these in over 3 months," she happily said. It was good to see her eating 'real' food again - ah, how much fruit and broth can someone eat?
After work today I saw her again. We snuck down to smoke - with her NaCl fluid stand in hand. It wasn't until about 8:00 tonight that they realized that the hourly injections of morphine weren't working too well, perhaps they should use some thing stronger. They gave her some delodon that seemed to help a little bit more. (We even named the stuffed dog I gave her weeks ago 'delodon'.) And so she remains there again tonight. If she's feeling up to it, we'll take her home tomorrow afternoon.