
Mom was taken to the Surgical ICU after her 12 hour spine surgery. She was still pretty out of it, but we were allowed to go in to see her two at a time. My brother and I were the first to go back. I knew mom wasn't going to even remember us being there, but I felt better seeing her. Obviously, mom was in good hands.
My brother was very
quiet as I chatted with the nurse; he stood and stared at mom. I asked
about her vitals, questioned which medications they were giving her and why,
and made sure the nurse had my number so she could call me when they got ready
to take mom to a regular room. The nurse told us it was
"usually" within a few hours, but the length of the surgery and the
use of Ketamine could impact the timing some.
With assurances from
the nurse that she would make sure she called me when they got ready to move
mom, I decided I should go try to get some more sleep.
My brother was
overwhelmed at how mom looked. "She's so.....bloated", he said
with tears in his eyes. I told him I knew and was glad they had warned me
about her likely having quite a bit of swelling. With wide eyes he said, "You
could have told ME"! I guess I should have warned him, but I hadn't
thought of it.
I was exhausted when I finally returned
to the hotel. I wasn't sure I would be able to sleep, but I was out like
a light before I knew it. I must have been sleeping fairly soundly
because I had a terrible time waking myself to escape the nightmare I was
having.
In my dream I was
being asked by a bunch of doctors to identify my mother. She was in a room full
of bloated patients, all wearing the same gowns and laying very still. I
was wandering in this room looking for a familiar face.......they all looked
the same. I then started checking their wrists for the name
band........there were none. The doctors were all laughing at me. I
had to get out of there FAST.
Mom was still in the
SICU. It didn't look like she had moved all night. The tube was
still in to help her breathe, there were cords and wires running everywhere.
I was assured mom was doing "reasonably" well. They had
decided to keep her in the SICU until she was breathing on her own. The
nurse said, "It shouldn't be more than a few hours". Where had
I heard that before?!
I wasn’t at home.
Mom wasn’t in the hospital where we had almost lost her several
times. She wasn’t being taken care of by
the doctors who had, in my opinion, decided she wasn’t worth saving. She wasn't being ignored by the nurses.
I got a pit in my stomach every time I thought of what we had been through.
I got a pit in my stomach every time I thought of what we had been through.
"I was going to call you soon", the nurse said as she handed me the water. She told me mom was doing "better", but instead of going to a regular room she would be transferred to "step down" ICU. She would be moved as soon as the tube was removed and they were sure she was breathing on her own. She also explained that they still had her pretty sedated and wanted to wake her slowly. "Some people really have a hard time waking up after the ketamine", she continued, "and with such a long surgery, we want to watch her very closely." A short time later they removed the tube and mom started to stir.
My sister had arrived just before she was moved. We walked together behind mom. Once we had found where she was going to stay until she was stable enough for a regular room, we introduced ourselves to the nurses who would be caring for mom. We sat quietly and watched them re-attach cords; switch the O2 from the transport tank to the wall feed; checked her vitals & make sure she was clean and as comfortable as possible. It was hard to tell if she was comfortable or not.
How can anyone be comfortable when they are swelled up like
a blimp?
She’s not going to be that was forever, is she?
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