I haven't had a chance to continue the saga about what happened to us in Houston and why we moved Little H to the hospital in Dallas, but I will over the next few days. Suffice to say, once you read it you'll see why all of this stress has rendered me crazy. For example, one night while we were in the Houston hospital, I went to go find the kitchen which was in room 35. I found the room, walked in, and started rummaging through the drawers and cabinets. In my peripheral I noticed that everyone else in the room had stopped what they were doing and were all looking at me, but I was too tired and distracted to care. Then it hit me: "This isn't the kitchen, is it?" I addressed to the room in general. They shook their heads "no". "This is your private hospital room, isn't it?" They all nodded. I left without another word.
I have many more examples like that, but I can't remember any of them right now (because I'm crazy).
In other crazed mother news, Little Husband has been moved out of the ICU! He was actually discharged last night but there were no rooms on the regular floor so he stayed in his ICU bed one extra night. Our surgeon said this was for the better as it can be a little tricky moving a patient to the regular floor during a shift change. I wasn't sure what he meant, but I suspected it had to do with keeping up with the pain meds. I'd heard that sometimes the pain management orders get lost or don't get followed when a patient moves out of the ICU, so I did my best to manage the situation. I swear I must have spoken with everyone who crossed my path--from the surgeon to the valet--in order to make sure that Lil' H's pain meds were good to go. I was told in no uncertain terms that they were. I spoke at length with the nurse on duty to find out what he'd been prescribed and when it was to be administered. I thought I had all the bases covered.
This morning, after the first restful sleep since this nightmare began, I strolled in the hospital certain that all was well. They moved Little Husband to his new room and shortly thereafter he started screaming. I mean, SCREAMING. I knew immediately that he was in pain. Husband went to get the nurse and came back shaking his head. "The nurse said that they screwed up his pain medication orders when he transferred floors."
"WHAT?" I think I almost had a coronary. I then morphed into Shirley McClaine in that role she played in "Terms of Endearment" (the one where she starts screaming at the nurses because they were late with her daughter's pain meds). After the shot was administered I started grilling the head nurse to find out what happened. She did some investigating and came back to tell me that it had been SEVEN HOURS since Lil' H was last given any meds (he's supposed to get them every three). I was livid. I think my head was spinning on its axis. The nurses kept their heads down and worked as quickly as possible. I can't even remember what exactly I said to the nurses, but I do remember envisioning the freak-out I was going to have on the ICU staff.
I looked over at the head nurse, "HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? I WAS WARNED ABOUT THIS! I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS HAPPENED! HOW DID MY SON GO SEVEN HOURS BETWEEN PAIN MEDS?!?"
"I don't know," she said, "but I'm going to find out!"
"THAT'S GOOD BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T FIND OUT, I WILL!"
With this, I looked around. Husband had left the room. My mom was in a chair in the corner, trying to make herself very small. Everyone was tense.
I couldn't help it. I can usually keep myself under control but I tend to lose it when it comes to my child. He's helpless, after all, and I consider it my full-time job to make sure he's got what he needs when he needs it. I'll calm down before I get crazed and become a helicopter parent.
At least I hope I do.
On a lighter note, our new room has a kickin' view of Downtown Dallas...
On an even lighter note, we've nicknamed Little Husband "Stay Puft" because he's retained so much water post-surgery. It sounds mean, but it's said with much love. He's normally a lean baby but the fluid retention makes him look like a chubby little marshmallow dumpling. So cute!
How come I don't look that cute when I've retained water?
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2 comments:
Man, I was thinking the same thing. Somehow the marshmallow puffiness and rolls aren't cute on me either. It's cruel that way, isn't it?
I cannot believe that they let him go 7 HOURS without pain meds. That's just ridiculous. Poor LH, I can't imagine how scary it was for him to be in so much pain and how horrifying it was for you two to see him like that. I would be taking names and kicking asses as they left the hospital after their shifts.
The thought of you popping out of the bushes all ninja-like as they're walking to their cars is a little amusing.
Glad to hear he's doing so well!!!
How are pain meds missed in a hospital?? The fact that it's a known issue, yet it still happens is insane to me.
You should have told the people in room 35 that you were a nurse coming to administer pain meds!! I couldn't help but laugh at that story. You poor thing. Exhaustion and worry play crappy tricks on the mind!!
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