Good God...that's all I can say. How Jim and I are hanging on at this point is beyond my comprehension. I'll run through the days' events in the order that they happened.
I got an e-mail from Jim this morning and he sounded upbeat. He was going to go for his swallowing test. I worked in my room until about noon and then Tawanda and I headed to the UPS Store and then had lunch at the hospital cafeteria. It's no four-star restaurant, I can tell you. We get up to Jim's room and he's thrilled because he did beautifully on his swallowing test, has no more feeding tube, and they brought him a tray of real food. All liquid stuff and a lot of Ensure, but that's o.k. I was thrilled thinking maybe we're FINALLY getting to the end of this and can go home soon. I knew it would be awhile because he still has the pneumonia and the fungus, but he's improving. So at 1:20 I leave to go to the cardiologist and Tawanda stays to keep him company. They looked at the dvd that you guys all made and had a good laugh.
So now I'm sitting at the cardiologist. She tells me that she's afraid to give me a beta blocker to slow down the heart right now because with bipolar syndrome it may make me depressed. She wants to wait until I'm on my new drug about a week then she'll confer with the psychiatrist. It's possible the high heart rate and the damage was done by all the years of untreated bipolar. The damage is not that bad right now. Maybe once I get the bipolar thing under control she'll give me some beta blockers to use just in case of an angina attack. I have no blockages, I have no thyroid problems, and I have no pheochromocytoma. I was starting to get a slight tremor in my right hand when I try to hold a spoon, but that's a side effect of the bipolar drug and may clear on it's own once I get used to the medication.
While I'm sitting there my cell phone rings. It's both Dr. Dolan and Dr. Jewell on the phone. I tell them, "You guys better not have any bad news for me...I can't take anymore." They tell me Jim needs another surgery tomorrow morning. There are two abcesses in his neck that they can't clear, and one looks like it's doing damage to a small artery in the side of his neck. They ask me if he's ever had any problems with infections that don't clear in the past. Now I let them have it. "Has he had any INFECTIONS that don't clear? I have been telling you guys for a MONTH now that he has terrible teeth, that's what started all this mess, and he's been living on Zithromax for a year because he gets abcess after abcess and he needs the damn things pulled out NOW! How do you expect this guy to heal from pneumonia, fungus in his blood, abcesses in his neck, AND abcesses in his teeth? Get rid of ONE of the sources of infection for cryin' out loud! But what do I know! I'm just his wife. Are you going to get a damn oral, surgeon in here NOW or what? Even if Aetna won't pay for it, I don't care! I'll pay for it if I have to!"
So Tawanda and Jim had already heard this news but didn't know that I had already gotten that phone call, so they're sitting in Jim's room saying, "Oh, Lord. What are we gonna tell Pam? How is she going to take it?" Well, when I came in they saw the look on my face so they knew I knew about it already. So they send Jim down for an x-ray of his teeth. The film didn't come out so well. (But I found the secret place down there where all the doctors go outside and smoke). They get him back in his room and who walks in......you guessed it....AN ORAL SURGEON! It's about friggin time! He gets a flashlight and looks in Jim's mouth. Yup- they're bad. Oh, no shit Sherlock. He asks me for the phone number for Jim's oral surgeon back home, so I give it to him, and he's going to get the original x-rays that were done back in the summer. Now Dr. Jewell walks in. I tell him...."So you're finally going to listen to me? Or did you all think I was crazy?" Dr. Jewell and the oral surgeon feel that there is such a virulent type of bacteria living in Jim's jaw under his teeth that that's what might have even been the thing that ate away at his carotid artery. And now they're sending him for an MRI because they don't like the look of a smaller artery on the other side of his face...it's getting distorted. So tomorrow morning the surgery is going to be a minor one....they're going to drain the two abcesses and they're going to restructure the artery. Then we're going to talk about having his teeth pulled at the hospital. Well, they must not think it's that dire or they would have rushed him to surgery right away, but honestly, I'd rather have him have those teeth pulled while he's here. At least these surgeons know his situation, they know what's already been done to his mouth and his face, and I'd rather have them do it than some stranger who doesn't know his situation back home. He's stuck eating soft food now anyway so it's the perfect time to do it. They won't pull the teeth tomorrow, though, although I wish they would so they wouldn't have to put the guy through procedure number four.
And now I'm worried about the condition of his larynx again. Are they going to do more damage intubating him? They assured me no- this will be a quick surgery and he probably won't even have to stay in the ICU again. They plan to get him back to his room in the regular ward. But I'm still a nervous wreck. Whenever they start messing with his arteries I worry about permanent damage. And Tawanda won't let me have any cocktails because of all the medication I'm on. Although I'm cheating right now and put a little Absolut in my orange juice....just a little! But it's giving me reflux again so I've got to cut that shit out. I'll bet in about 15 minutes I'm going to have her calling me on the phone yelling at me.
So the day started out SO well, and ended like a big pile of shit. Anybody ever see the movie "Network" from the 70's? I'm going to yell out the window, "I'M MAD AS HELL AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!!!"
Tomorrow morning I'm going to the custom t-shirt place in the mall and I'm getting a shirt made that says "I TOLD YOU SO" on the front and "WHAT DO I KNOW....I'M JUST THE WIFE" on the back. And I'm going to wear it when Jim comes out of recovery. This is why I really hate doctors.
I've got a shrink appointment at 1:00 tomorrow, too. So if you need me, call the cell.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment