August 28th 2011. Cedar Park, Texas, 10.53 AM Central Time.
The big match between Arsenal & Manchester United was not going well.. sorry that's an understatement, steaming pile of horsesh*t was more like it but I digress....
Arsenal were being whipped like rented mules and my cell had been taking texts all morning from my friend Eric who happens to be a Manchester United fan. Between rubbing my nose in the s**t over the game, Eric had also totally redeemed himself by inviting me and my wife Alice to his birthday barbecue bash later in the day. Eric was regaling me with the very nice and very expensive bottles of vintage wine we would be drinking, and the chance to get out with great company whilst enjoying some kick ass food and even more kick ass wine really took the sting out of Arsenal completely crapping the bed and being down 3-1 at the half.
I remember telling Eric via text that I wasn't going to suffer another half of the crap Arsenal was serving, and I was going to go out and buy some wine glasses for the party, as the hosts did not have a sufficient amount of glasses needed for wine of this caliber.
Alice was upstairs, I was on the couch downstairs.
My last text to Eric at 10:52 was this : Sounds like a wiener (confirming time of arrival with corny line), I will CYA later.
Then I did something that I and billions of others did, do and have done since the dawn of time, I simply stood up.
I cant explain what happened except it was a very strange feeling. I felt very dizzy, very light headed, my first thought was i had gotten up too fast, like a rush to the head.. but this felt very different. I am no vegan, yoga doer, mediation type guy, but I DO know my body, and I felt, actually correct that, KNEW, something was wrong. My first instinct was "go get Alice".. then I had a second thought, which as you will see, had I listened to it, I would have either been much much worse, or quite possibly dead.
My second impulse was a typical Jason thought, especially on a Sunday.
"Its nothing, I'm alright, I'm just going to lay down on the couch and take a nap".
I am glad impulse 1 won out. And if I can do anything positive at all with my writings its thus, LISTEN to your body and GET medical assistance ASAP. A false alarm is better than the alternative, on this trust me.
So at this stage I had gone from dizzy, woozy head to feeling pins and needles and decreased strength in my left side, especially my extremities. I also noticed my lips and tongue were tingling and I had a hard time moving my tongue to the left. This dispelled any thoughts of a lay down, so I went upstairs to see Alice.
I walked into the bedroom, where Alice & my daughter Lyndsay were sitting on our bed, watching some TV and chatting. Alice's face pretty much said it all when she saw me. I basically exclaimed " Al, I'm not well, somethings F***d up". I regaled her with what had happened and she was right on it.
"That's it, we are getting you to hospital, right now."
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Ambulance, we dont need no steenking Ambulance
So the wheels were in motion, well apart from my stubborn ass informing a by now very concerned family, that i am not going until i have showered. I'll be damned if I was going to hospital to be examined with sweaty pits & nuts and bed head still going on. Stroke, possibly, Vain, definitely.
So after a brief contra temps about the shower, we decided to jump in the car and head straight to Cedar Park hospital.. this is one of those areas where we should have probably called 911, but the time difference was measured in minutes, probably in our cars favor.
Plus I was fully functional, lucid, in no pain, and we did not have medical insurance so car versus a 500 buck cab ride for 3 miles on potentially a non emergency, well we went car. If I ever have an issue again, I would definitely rethink, but to be honest at this stage I was exhibiting the signs of a Transient ischemic attack, or TIA, and without an MRI the ambulance crew couldn't have done much more than strap me on a stretcher and give me oxygen without a physician seeing me first.
So I arrive at the E Room at CPH, and they start a barrage of tests on my functions etc. From the arrival to the point they decided to transfer me to Seton Williamson County (SWC), which has a dedicated heart and stroke center, I started to get better. All hands, feet, fingers, toes working etc, just the pins and needles, Novocaine feeling on the left was still niggling me.
For the first time in my life I got to ride in an ambulance... very exciting, but then I am a nerd.
They cart my tail off to SWC and get to emergency. Its now around 11.50, basically onset plus 60 minutes give or take, but still within the 3 hours for the stroke wonderdrug, which I will talk about a little later on.
Once again they give me the can you feel this, can you feel that, look at this flashlight, move your eyes here, there, everywhere treatment. The neurologist was a young Asian (near east) guy, very bright lad, if a tad bedside manner deficient... he did the tests again, and by now I am (almost) normal. They are thinking TIA, want to keep me overnight for observation etc.
The one thing I haven't mentioned in all of this yet was my Blood Pressure. I AM AN IDIOT. I have struggled with hbp/hypertension for over a decade. I had been off any meds for over a year. I am STUPID.
In the immortal words of Skid Row, I had "Kept my motor running, but I never kept it running clean"
My BP was something like 198 over 170... yeah... I know... this caused a potentially major hiccup, one which we will never know if it could have helped or not.
The miracle drug T-PA, with a stroke, if given within 3 hours and combined with blood thinners like Warfarin can help offset many of the side effects such as paralysis etc. Here is the rub, if its a hemorrhagic stroke, which is a brain bleed, you cant use it as it is designed to thin the blood and destroy clots, so if you are bleeding, T-PA increases the bleed and can be fatal.
At this stage 1. I was seemingly getting better, on the surface suggesting a TIA not a massive bleed, 2. they had nor MRI'ed me yet so they could not tell if there was any bleeding, and most importantly 3. My BP was so high, they explained that giving me T-PA without knowing what was going on, with my BP that high, it could actually induce a massive bleed and cause more damage than otherwise, or indeed even death.
I will never know if T-PA could have done anything, but I doubt it, and thank god the hospital staff were on the ball enough not to just shoot me with a "cure all" based on our web MD ill-informed demands for it, and which had it been administered could have in all likelihood killed me or left me a vegetable.
more to follow...
So after a brief contra temps about the shower, we decided to jump in the car and head straight to Cedar Park hospital.. this is one of those areas where we should have probably called 911, but the time difference was measured in minutes, probably in our cars favor.
Plus I was fully functional, lucid, in no pain, and we did not have medical insurance so car versus a 500 buck cab ride for 3 miles on potentially a non emergency, well we went car. If I ever have an issue again, I would definitely rethink, but to be honest at this stage I was exhibiting the signs of a Transient ischemic attack, or TIA, and without an MRI the ambulance crew couldn't have done much more than strap me on a stretcher and give me oxygen without a physician seeing me first.
So I arrive at the E Room at CPH, and they start a barrage of tests on my functions etc. From the arrival to the point they decided to transfer me to Seton Williamson County (SWC), which has a dedicated heart and stroke center, I started to get better. All hands, feet, fingers, toes working etc, just the pins and needles, Novocaine feeling on the left was still niggling me.
For the first time in my life I got to ride in an ambulance... very exciting, but then I am a nerd.
They cart my tail off to SWC and get to emergency. Its now around 11.50, basically onset plus 60 minutes give or take, but still within the 3 hours for the stroke wonderdrug, which I will talk about a little later on.
Once again they give me the can you feel this, can you feel that, look at this flashlight, move your eyes here, there, everywhere treatment. The neurologist was a young Asian (near east) guy, very bright lad, if a tad bedside manner deficient... he did the tests again, and by now I am (almost) normal. They are thinking TIA, want to keep me overnight for observation etc.
The one thing I haven't mentioned in all of this yet was my Blood Pressure. I AM AN IDIOT. I have struggled with hbp/hypertension for over a decade. I had been off any meds for over a year. I am STUPID.
In the immortal words of Skid Row, I had "Kept my motor running, but I never kept it running clean"
My BP was something like 198 over 170... yeah... I know... this caused a potentially major hiccup, one which we will never know if it could have helped or not.
The miracle drug T-PA, with a stroke, if given within 3 hours and combined with blood thinners like Warfarin can help offset many of the side effects such as paralysis etc. Here is the rub, if its a hemorrhagic stroke, which is a brain bleed, you cant use it as it is designed to thin the blood and destroy clots, so if you are bleeding, T-PA increases the bleed and can be fatal.
At this stage 1. I was seemingly getting better, on the surface suggesting a TIA not a massive bleed, 2. they had nor MRI'ed me yet so they could not tell if there was any bleeding, and most importantly 3. My BP was so high, they explained that giving me T-PA without knowing what was going on, with my BP that high, it could actually induce a massive bleed and cause more damage than otherwise, or indeed even death.
I will never know if T-PA could have done anything, but I doubt it, and thank god the hospital staff were on the ball enough not to just shoot me with a "cure all" based on our web MD ill-informed demands for it, and which had it been administered could have in all likelihood killed me or left me a vegetable.
more to follow...
Bring out the gimp...
So, after being tested and tested and tested again, the neurologist decided that it appeared that I had suffered a TIA but they wanted to do an MRI to verify and check for bleeding.
At this point Alice had asked the doctor whether I would be able to go home that day, the neurologist said no, that I would be in overnight for observation and so that they could check that nothing else was going on.
Strangely, at this stage I was feeling a lot better, and all my functions had appeared to have returned to normal.
However, while we were sitting chatting I started to feel the tingling sensation come back into my legs and arm, I told Alice that I was starting to get scared and I was starting to lose feeling in my arm and leg again.
By this time I had been in ER for about 90 min. We told the staff that I was starting to feel the sensations returning and they went and got the neurologist to come back and see me. He said that this was normal and I would feel the sensations probably for 24 to 48 hours. At this time the MRI people were ready to take me into be scanned.
On the way to radiology I was complaining to the nurse that I really needed to pee badly, she asked could I hold it, and I said I wasn't sure if I could. When we went into radiology I asked the radiologist how long the test would take, he told me that it would take probably a minimum 45 min, to which I said "I can't hold my pee for 45 min. I need to go NOW !"
The nurse bought me a urinal, lord knows I tried, but I was starting to weaken on my left side and I couldn't lift myself up enough to use the urinal properly, so they decided to insert a catheter. Bastards lol :)... Ouch, ouch, and ouch again. Yeah that was pleasant... the one thing I could feel was that part.... If I spend the rest of my life without having to have a catheter inserted ever again that will be too soon.
So, catheter inserted, I totally filled up the bag, they were amazed and basically said wow you did need to go didn't you. Er, No duh. I was not volunteering to have a plastic tube stuck down me old boy for a giggle... :)
They duly wheeled me in and transferred me onto the MRI table, at this point I was starting to feel my leg and arm on my left side really start to feel somewhat numb and ravaged by a pins and needles sensation. Way worse than earlier.
The problem with an MRI, especially when they are scanning your brain, is that you have to be very still and they have immobilize your head. Where this became an issue for me, is that I was starting to feel that I was losing strength in my arm and leg, and when they put me inside the MRI the combination of the claustrophobia and my sensations started to really make me really uncomfortable.
They started up the MRI, and if you have ever had and MRI you will know what I am talking about, even with hearing protection, it's bloody loud. As I'm laying there I started to realize that I was losing the ability to move my fingers and toes on my left side. I also started to lose the feeling in my tounge and throat, which also started to cause problems as I was getting post nasal drip, which was almost gagging me, but I couldn't move my head, swallowing was getting harder and I could not cough it up, as I was confined in the MRI.
So apart from my throat, the noise, the catheter, and the claustrophobia, to top it all I started to realize that I was paralyzing in my foot and hand and was feeling the effects of the paralysis moving backwards up my leg and arm. It was the strangest experience, and I was to all intents and purposes helpless. I was trying to keep my toes and fingers moving so that my brain would hopefully remember the pathways if indeed I did paralyze completely.
When the MRI was complete and they wheeled me out and back to ER I realized that the least for the time being, I was unable to move my left leg or my left arm. I can tell you that while I was in the MRI I was praying hard, very hard, that I would make it through this and not die. I was not ready for the tunnel, and with no disrespect to my dead friends and relatives, I was NOT willing to see them quite yet. Im sure they understood :) But, I gotta be honest, at this point I was very, very scared, I knew everything was going wrong but I did not know to what extent it was going wrong, and where it was going to end.
By the time I got back to ER, where Alice, Elliott, Lyndsay & our friend Troy were waiting, I had pretty much lost all use of my left side, and my speech was really starting to deteriorate. I remember my mom calling from England and all I could do was mumble to her and my dad and I was very, very, very upset.
Ironically once I had gotten over the shock of what was happening to me, I actually started joking with my kids, I know it sounds strange now, but we were in tears of laughter as I was making fun of my condition. Those that know me, know that I have a pretty dark, warped sense of humor, and this is how I deal with situations like this. I found that it was much easier to laugh about it than any other alternative.
As those that know me well will also attest, I am a stubborn, dogmatic SOB at times, I don't give up easily and my attitude was and still is, that this was never, and I mean never, going to beat me and I was going to laugh and fight all the way.
As I said that day, and many times since, I do not stop punching until my lights are out.
My lights were not out then, they ain't out now, the calorically challenged lady isn't singing yet, she ain't wrote it yet, there is no fork to be stuck, and I have a long way to go until 4 zeroes show on the clock.
To be continued.
At this point Alice had asked the doctor whether I would be able to go home that day, the neurologist said no, that I would be in overnight for observation and so that they could check that nothing else was going on.
Strangely, at this stage I was feeling a lot better, and all my functions had appeared to have returned to normal.
However, while we were sitting chatting I started to feel the tingling sensation come back into my legs and arm, I told Alice that I was starting to get scared and I was starting to lose feeling in my arm and leg again.
By this time I had been in ER for about 90 min. We told the staff that I was starting to feel the sensations returning and they went and got the neurologist to come back and see me. He said that this was normal and I would feel the sensations probably for 24 to 48 hours. At this time the MRI people were ready to take me into be scanned.
On the way to radiology I was complaining to the nurse that I really needed to pee badly, she asked could I hold it, and I said I wasn't sure if I could. When we went into radiology I asked the radiologist how long the test would take, he told me that it would take probably a minimum 45 min, to which I said "I can't hold my pee for 45 min. I need to go NOW !"
The nurse bought me a urinal, lord knows I tried, but I was starting to weaken on my left side and I couldn't lift myself up enough to use the urinal properly, so they decided to insert a catheter. Bastards lol :)... Ouch, ouch, and ouch again. Yeah that was pleasant... the one thing I could feel was that part.... If I spend the rest of my life without having to have a catheter inserted ever again that will be too soon.
So, catheter inserted, I totally filled up the bag, they were amazed and basically said wow you did need to go didn't you. Er, No duh. I was not volunteering to have a plastic tube stuck down me old boy for a giggle... :)
They duly wheeled me in and transferred me onto the MRI table, at this point I was starting to feel my leg and arm on my left side really start to feel somewhat numb and ravaged by a pins and needles sensation. Way worse than earlier.
The problem with an MRI, especially when they are scanning your brain, is that you have to be very still and they have immobilize your head. Where this became an issue for me, is that I was starting to feel that I was losing strength in my arm and leg, and when they put me inside the MRI the combination of the claustrophobia and my sensations started to really make me really uncomfortable.
They started up the MRI, and if you have ever had and MRI you will know what I am talking about, even with hearing protection, it's bloody loud. As I'm laying there I started to realize that I was losing the ability to move my fingers and toes on my left side. I also started to lose the feeling in my tounge and throat, which also started to cause problems as I was getting post nasal drip, which was almost gagging me, but I couldn't move my head, swallowing was getting harder and I could not cough it up, as I was confined in the MRI.
So apart from my throat, the noise, the catheter, and the claustrophobia, to top it all I started to realize that I was paralyzing in my foot and hand and was feeling the effects of the paralysis moving backwards up my leg and arm. It was the strangest experience, and I was to all intents and purposes helpless. I was trying to keep my toes and fingers moving so that my brain would hopefully remember the pathways if indeed I did paralyze completely.
When the MRI was complete and they wheeled me out and back to ER I realized that the least for the time being, I was unable to move my left leg or my left arm. I can tell you that while I was in the MRI I was praying hard, very hard, that I would make it through this and not die. I was not ready for the tunnel, and with no disrespect to my dead friends and relatives, I was NOT willing to see them quite yet. Im sure they understood :) But, I gotta be honest, at this point I was very, very scared, I knew everything was going wrong but I did not know to what extent it was going wrong, and where it was going to end.
By the time I got back to ER, where Alice, Elliott, Lyndsay & our friend Troy were waiting, I had pretty much lost all use of my left side, and my speech was really starting to deteriorate. I remember my mom calling from England and all I could do was mumble to her and my dad and I was very, very, very upset.
Ironically once I had gotten over the shock of what was happening to me, I actually started joking with my kids, I know it sounds strange now, but we were in tears of laughter as I was making fun of my condition. Those that know me, know that I have a pretty dark, warped sense of humor, and this is how I deal with situations like this. I found that it was much easier to laugh about it than any other alternative.
As those that know me well will also attest, I am a stubborn, dogmatic SOB at times, I don't give up easily and my attitude was and still is, that this was never, and I mean never, going to beat me and I was going to laugh and fight all the way.
As I said that day, and many times since, I do not stop punching until my lights are out.
My lights were not out then, they ain't out now, the calorically challenged lady isn't singing yet, she ain't wrote it yet, there is no fork to be stuck, and I have a long way to go until 4 zeroes show on the clock.
To be continued.
ICU, You See Me, Why's There Blood In My Pee ? (part 1)
FYI I am deliberately backdating all my posts to the 14th of September as this blog setup will not allow you to order your posts oldest first to read like a timeline... grrrrrrrrr
To continue...
After the shock of my paralyzed return to the ER, and the family realizing that I was in a bad way had eased up slightly, it was decided that I was to roll on up to the Intensive Care Unit as I was in a quite serious condition by this point, and there were no guarantees I wouldn't stroke again or go into cardiac arrest etc.
I was actually in surprisingly decent spirits, I was trying to offset my own fears and reduce the stress on my family by making fun of my situation... looking back I am very surprised at myself, had you asked me pre stroke how I would handle it, I wouldn't have ventured that I would be laughing and joking about my new found gimpyness. I kept doing a slurry version of South Park's Jimmy Valmer saying " I'm h-h-h-h handi-capable" and doing stupid dribbles from my mouth, which my kids thought were hilarious.
OK confession time... to those who don't know me that well... I always had some pretty hideous teeth action... combined with English genes, and NHS dentistry performed by what I can only assume were recent graduates from the Bangalore Dental Institute (distance learning program).. my teeth have been jacked up for years... ergo about 18 months ago my front crowns and what remained of my front two teeth after various fillings etc. decided to give up the ghost and go to porcelain heaven. Which for a while left me looking like a pikey wino, one ragged snaggletooth was all I had... Well, went and got the 4 front teeth (or the bases and roots to be accurate) pulled, and had a shiny new grille made and fitted so I didn't look like a meth head any longer.
Problem was, my new grille is part metal, so they had to come out during the MRI... which meant that I was not only slurring like Paula Abdul after a few vicodin, I was also one toofless mofo... which I am sure made for a funny sight... combine this with me acting the fool and dribbling to amuse my kids.. well I am sure you get the picture.
Funny thing dignity... once you lose it, you really don't care lol... I had already had to have a nurse help me get my underpants off and hold the urinal, with another having to shove what felt like a hosepipe down the old fella.. so no teeth and a slur... shhhheat that's nothing for this guy :)
So we duly end up in ICU, where I am met by a team of nurses and techs, who promptly went about getting me into my bed, sticking various needles and IV ports in various arms, sticking vital sign monitor pads and wires all over me, hooking me up with oxygen, the bp cuff that went off every 15 minutes (oh joy) etc.
I have to say, and I mean this with all seriousness, the ICU staff at Seton Williamson County, ROCK, I owe them something I can never, ever repay, they hooked a brother up, quite literally !!!
The only problem with what I had suffered is that every, and I mean every Dr., Nurse, Tech etc that saw me, all asked the same damn questions and did the same tests.. I get it, I know its essential, but me being a short patience kinda guy, really wanted to scream... if one more person asked me to lift my leg or rubbed my damn foot and asked if I could fell that was gonna get punched in the face (with my good arm) hehe.
I had a few visitors that had rushed in to see me, and at first ICU was pretty comfortable and uneventful... I was stabilized, bp was high, but they wanted it that way, but heart etc all working normally, I had a headache but no other pain, all was quiet on the western front.... then the bloody Nystagmus started
Nystagmus is involuntary eye movement, and holy crap, were my eyes moving. I can only describe it as an old TV, back in the days of vertical hold, with the TV rolling over and over and over. My eyes could not and would not stop rolling, I could not see anybody's face, I could not focus, my eyes would not stop rolling.
Imagine being stupid drunk, then double it. Only closing my eyes stopped it, and even then not the effects.
It was getting so bad they gave me an anti dizziness drug to help me stop feeling nauseous, but it did not stop the eyes, they said I might have this for an hour, a week, maybe even permanently... Kill me now.
I rested for a while, as they had quite kindly given me some morphine for my head and I had zonked out for a bit, Alice was staying the night and the kids had gone home.. I came to and was really spinning, my eyes were going so bad it was making me feel sick... Alice tried to help me sit up, and that was the only respite I got from the dizzyness, and then it happened. I told her, "I'm gonna throw up"... I had eaten nothing all day, I had just had some coffee in the AM, and it was now nighttime, I cant recall the time, but it was after eight, I know that much as the nurses had changed shifts...
So, Alice is yelling at the nurse who was "supposed" to be looking after me that night, and I will caveat here, this nurse was the ONLY one who sucked some serious rear end during my stay... maybe she was facebooking, I don't know, but Alice was yelling out our door, and the nurse had a clear view through the ICU window into my room, she just sat there... Alice said something to the effect of he is going to throw up, quick bring a bucket, or bag or anything... there was nothing nearby for me to use... Alice found a bag of some description just as the first wave hit... meanwhile nurse suck is still fiddling around...
I finally hurl up some yellow stuff, and get it on me, my bed and most of the bag that Alice had found, while Alice was holding me upright and doing her best to comfort me, the nurse still hadn't done anything... Alice shouted very loudly (yes the button got pressed too) Somebody get their Ass in here now and help him... (I love my wife, she kicks ass)
So eventually nurse suck and another nurse who had rushed in got me a bowl to hurl into, then inexplicably nurse suck left the room, with Alice holding a bowl with me dry heaving bile into. Now I know that this isn't a pleasant picture, but I had had nothing to eat in 24 hours bar some coffee in the AM, I was nil by mouth so they didn't even give me water... I was dry heaving so hard the entire floor could hear me, it was ugly. I thought at that point I was going to die throwing up, it was that bad... all I was bringing up was a yellow slimy bile... it hurt, hurt bad.
By this time nurse suck and the other nurse were back realizing that I was, well actually quite ill.
Then the 2nd wave hit, this time was very very different though, I was still dry heaving and retching for my life, but then I found a nice stream of scarlet fluid to bring up, and that's when the nurses realized I was in some serious difficulties... I think the retching had made my stomach bleed, so all I could bring up was dark gooey blood... it was at that point they thought they should probably go get the staff doctor...
Now during all of this, my best friend and staunchest defender was right there holding my head up and comforting me, and she could tell I was getting pissed off, haha, funny isn't it, there I am lobbing up blood and I'm really pissed at the fact I cant lay down and rest...
The nausea subsided, thankfully, and Alice kept me upright and comfortable until the Dr arrived... he started to ask questions and big bad Alice had finally had enough... she put the pants on him and the nurses.
this is a rough quote, but Alice said "look stop all this bullshit, he has been complaining of feeling dizzy and sick and it took for me to get him a damn bag to throw up in while they (the nurses) dithered around, he is upset and he is stressed, Dr give him something to calm him down NOW."
The Dr. looked at Alice in shock, then said, "oh, yeah, ok, lets give him some Ativan and calm him down, and keep an eye on the dizzyness, give some more meclizine and get some more fluid in him he is dehydrating"
Alice wasn't trying to be doctor by any means, but she knows me and she has been in the medical field long enough to know that I was in some serious distress, and she prompted the Dr to make the correct call. Nurse suck was very embarrassed, she was very attentive for the rest of her shift, but thankfully I never saw her again while I was in ICU. The rest of the staff were absolutely amazing, so I consider her an anomaly in otherwise brilliant care.
Oh, yeah, the Ativan That was all she wrote, straight into my arm via the IV port, boom... nuh night.
Thank god for Alice...
To be continued.
To continue...
After the shock of my paralyzed return to the ER, and the family realizing that I was in a bad way had eased up slightly, it was decided that I was to roll on up to the Intensive Care Unit as I was in a quite serious condition by this point, and there were no guarantees I wouldn't stroke again or go into cardiac arrest etc.
I was actually in surprisingly decent spirits, I was trying to offset my own fears and reduce the stress on my family by making fun of my situation... looking back I am very surprised at myself, had you asked me pre stroke how I would handle it, I wouldn't have ventured that I would be laughing and joking about my new found gimpyness. I kept doing a slurry version of South Park's Jimmy Valmer saying " I'm h-h-h-h handi-capable" and doing stupid dribbles from my mouth, which my kids thought were hilarious.
OK confession time... to those who don't know me that well... I always had some pretty hideous teeth action... combined with English genes, and NHS dentistry performed by what I can only assume were recent graduates from the Bangalore Dental Institute (distance learning program).. my teeth have been jacked up for years... ergo about 18 months ago my front crowns and what remained of my front two teeth after various fillings etc. decided to give up the ghost and go to porcelain heaven. Which for a while left me looking like a pikey wino, one ragged snaggletooth was all I had... Well, went and got the 4 front teeth (or the bases and roots to be accurate) pulled, and had a shiny new grille made and fitted so I didn't look like a meth head any longer.
Problem was, my new grille is part metal, so they had to come out during the MRI... which meant that I was not only slurring like Paula Abdul after a few vicodin, I was also one toofless mofo... which I am sure made for a funny sight... combine this with me acting the fool and dribbling to amuse my kids.. well I am sure you get the picture.
Funny thing dignity... once you lose it, you really don't care lol... I had already had to have a nurse help me get my underpants off and hold the urinal, with another having to shove what felt like a hosepipe down the old fella.. so no teeth and a slur... shhhheat that's nothing for this guy :)
So we duly end up in ICU, where I am met by a team of nurses and techs, who promptly went about getting me into my bed, sticking various needles and IV ports in various arms, sticking vital sign monitor pads and wires all over me, hooking me up with oxygen, the bp cuff that went off every 15 minutes (oh joy) etc.
I have to say, and I mean this with all seriousness, the ICU staff at Seton Williamson County, ROCK, I owe them something I can never, ever repay, they hooked a brother up, quite literally !!!
The only problem with what I had suffered is that every, and I mean every Dr., Nurse, Tech etc that saw me, all asked the same damn questions and did the same tests.. I get it, I know its essential, but me being a short patience kinda guy, really wanted to scream... if one more person asked me to lift my leg or rubbed my damn foot and asked if I could fell that was gonna get punched in the face (with my good arm) hehe.
I had a few visitors that had rushed in to see me, and at first ICU was pretty comfortable and uneventful... I was stabilized, bp was high, but they wanted it that way, but heart etc all working normally, I had a headache but no other pain, all was quiet on the western front.... then the bloody Nystagmus started
Nystagmus is involuntary eye movement, and holy crap, were my eyes moving. I can only describe it as an old TV, back in the days of vertical hold, with the TV rolling over and over and over. My eyes could not and would not stop rolling, I could not see anybody's face, I could not focus, my eyes would not stop rolling.
Imagine being stupid drunk, then double it. Only closing my eyes stopped it, and even then not the effects.
It was getting so bad they gave me an anti dizziness drug to help me stop feeling nauseous, but it did not stop the eyes, they said I might have this for an hour, a week, maybe even permanently... Kill me now.
I rested for a while, as they had quite kindly given me some morphine for my head and I had zonked out for a bit, Alice was staying the night and the kids had gone home.. I came to and was really spinning, my eyes were going so bad it was making me feel sick... Alice tried to help me sit up, and that was the only respite I got from the dizzyness, and then it happened. I told her, "I'm gonna throw up"... I had eaten nothing all day, I had just had some coffee in the AM, and it was now nighttime, I cant recall the time, but it was after eight, I know that much as the nurses had changed shifts...
So, Alice is yelling at the nurse who was "supposed" to be looking after me that night, and I will caveat here, this nurse was the ONLY one who sucked some serious rear end during my stay... maybe she was facebooking, I don't know, but Alice was yelling out our door, and the nurse had a clear view through the ICU window into my room, she just sat there... Alice said something to the effect of he is going to throw up, quick bring a bucket, or bag or anything... there was nothing nearby for me to use... Alice found a bag of some description just as the first wave hit... meanwhile nurse suck is still fiddling around...
I finally hurl up some yellow stuff, and get it on me, my bed and most of the bag that Alice had found, while Alice was holding me upright and doing her best to comfort me, the nurse still hadn't done anything... Alice shouted very loudly (yes the button got pressed too) Somebody get their Ass in here now and help him... (I love my wife, she kicks ass)
So eventually nurse suck and another nurse who had rushed in got me a bowl to hurl into, then inexplicably nurse suck left the room, with Alice holding a bowl with me dry heaving bile into. Now I know that this isn't a pleasant picture, but I had had nothing to eat in 24 hours bar some coffee in the AM, I was nil by mouth so they didn't even give me water... I was dry heaving so hard the entire floor could hear me, it was ugly. I thought at that point I was going to die throwing up, it was that bad... all I was bringing up was a yellow slimy bile... it hurt, hurt bad.
By this time nurse suck and the other nurse were back realizing that I was, well actually quite ill.
Then the 2nd wave hit, this time was very very different though, I was still dry heaving and retching for my life, but then I found a nice stream of scarlet fluid to bring up, and that's when the nurses realized I was in some serious difficulties... I think the retching had made my stomach bleed, so all I could bring up was dark gooey blood... it was at that point they thought they should probably go get the staff doctor...
Now during all of this, my best friend and staunchest defender was right there holding my head up and comforting me, and she could tell I was getting pissed off, haha, funny isn't it, there I am lobbing up blood and I'm really pissed at the fact I cant lay down and rest...
The nausea subsided, thankfully, and Alice kept me upright and comfortable until the Dr arrived... he started to ask questions and big bad Alice had finally had enough... she put the pants on him and the nurses.
this is a rough quote, but Alice said "look stop all this bullshit, he has been complaining of feeling dizzy and sick and it took for me to get him a damn bag to throw up in while they (the nurses) dithered around, he is upset and he is stressed, Dr give him something to calm him down NOW."
The Dr. looked at Alice in shock, then said, "oh, yeah, ok, lets give him some Ativan and calm him down, and keep an eye on the dizzyness, give some more meclizine and get some more fluid in him he is dehydrating"
Alice wasn't trying to be doctor by any means, but she knows me and she has been in the medical field long enough to know that I was in some serious distress, and she prompted the Dr to make the correct call. Nurse suck was very embarrassed, she was very attentive for the rest of her shift, but thankfully I never saw her again while I was in ICU. The rest of the staff were absolutely amazing, so I consider her an anomaly in otherwise brilliant care.
Oh, yeah, the Ativan That was all she wrote, straight into my arm via the IV port, boom... nuh night.
Thank god for Alice...
To be continued.
ICU - You See Me - Why is there blood in my pee ? ( part 2)
Monday, August 29 2011.
The thing about being in ICU is that while you are there to be healed and rest, you actually don't get any rest.
As from part one of this story you will recall that I had a rather unpleasant Sunday evening and was given some medication to help me sleep through the night. Had I been able to sleep through the night that would've been awesome, however due to the nature of ICU you are constantly woken during the night to make sure that you are okay and still alive.
Plus I had a blood pressure cuff that was set on automatic and connected to the vitals monitor which would check my blood pressure every 15 min. To start with this didn't bother me that much, but after a while hearing the initial buzz and the beep of the machine and knowing that once again the cuff was going to strangle my arm became rather annoying.
The other issue I had with the blood pressure cuff was that it would slide down my arm while I was laying there in bed so when it started to inflate it often couldn't find the correct pulse and would keep inflating and inflating and inflating to the point of cutting off my circulation and making it feel like my arm was about to fall off. There were several times when Alice had to go and stop the machine because it was hurting so badly.
So even though I had been given some very cool medication to help me rest, between the nurses coming in every half hour and the infernal blood pressure cuff I didn't get much sleep at all that first night.
Monday morning started for me around 4 AM, when the daily plethora of medication that I had to take, started to be bought into the room and administered.
At this point I'm still nil by mouth, so I'm hungry and thirsty and I can't have anything, they were even reluctant to allow me to have free access to ice chips which was the only respite I got for my thirst. Oh, and another thing, you'll probably recall from my original post regarding the catheter that was inserted before I went into the MRI, well let me tell you, this thing was so comfortable, NOT.
It turns out that they hadn't secured the catheter correctly to a clip that was attached to my leg, this clip was supposed to keep the catheter tube from moving when I shifted my body or when the nursing staff moved me around in the bed or transferred me to carts etc. Well it wasn't secured, and and as my last name is Tarrant, and Murphy's law is the law that governs my life, of course every time anybody came near me, moved me, touched me, did anything within 3000 linear feet of the bed, my catheter bag would of course get hit, which in turn tugged on the catheter tube.
Now I don't know how many of you readers have had a catheter inserted, but after it's been in there a while, if the tube starts to move, it's about as pleasant as throwing salt on an open wound, and as uncomfortable as listening to Richard Harris sing MacArthur Park..... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHS8hj4TdT8 anyway I digress..
Now it's early morning Monday, my nystagmus is going 100 miles an hour and making my eyes look like Marty Feldman on crack, my head is thumping like I've been on a bender with Oliver Reed, Richard Burton and George Best, and the bloody blood pressure cuff kicking in every 15 min., oh yeah life is just grand :-)
I soon get a visit from the first neurologist that saw me, I don't mean to be rude nor denigrate this Dr's skill, but Marcus Welby he wasn't. He proceeds to show up in my room and effectively he tells me that I didn't have a stroke.
Now call me old-fashioned, and I'm no doctor, but if it walks like a duck, looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, then there's a good chance, ... it's a duck.
Dr. Sherlock, whose bedside manner was well let's just say weak at best, tells me that all of the scans taken showed nothing other than that I have a brain in there, but there is nothing wrong with it.
Now in full disclosure, prior to Dr. Sherlock, that's not his real name by the way, coming into my room, the procession of nurses, attending physicians, hospitalists etc. that had come by my room and bedside, all pretty much said, man that looks like a stroke... except of course the good Dr.
I think Dr. Sherlock had been watching too episodes of House, and as the evidence was not empirical, he had deduced,that I must be suffering from any number of weird and wonderful diseases other than a stroke.
In defense of Dr. Sherlock, I understand his reasoning, here was a young, obviously very smart neurologist, who looking at scans saw no evidence of a crime. So to use parlance from the TV detective shows, I had all the MO and signs of a stroke, but the perp had left no evidence at the scene.
Now to describe Dr. Sherlock's bedside manner, getting a complete coherent sentence from Dr. Sherlock was very difficult, my case was obviously flummoxing him and he was struggling for an answer. He would make a statement similar to this "er, well uhm, yeah, hmmm, I don't see anything, er, well, hmmm" and so on and so forth.
Please don't take this the wrong way, I'm not second-guessing his reasoning, at all, I understand and I applaud the fact that he wanted to try everything and anything to find out what was making me sick, I am no web M.D. expert that tries to tell doctors what is wrong with me, so this is in no way a criticism of Dr. Sherlock and his attempts to figure out what was going on with me.
BUT, had he listened to me and Alice he could've saved two days and some expensive and unnecessary testing, and more importantly a painful process that I had to go through later that day.
We tried in vain to explain to Dr. Sherlock that I had experienced the true stroke while I was in the first MRI given, and that there was a great chance that the initial scan had occurred just as the stroke was happening or just prior, so that the scan showed no damage, because at the time of the scan there was none. Had Dr. Sherlock given me an MRI on Monday as we had requested, he would've seen the damage and the cause of the stroke, which was not evident on the first MRI.
So, Dr. Sherlock had informed us to our incredulity that I had not had a stroke, now call me old-fashioned again, but there I was lying in bed, half of me not working, and slurring like Harry Carey after a few beverages, though I knew instinctively what had happened to me although I could not prove it definitively.
Therefore Dr. Sherlock determined it was time for me to have some more tests, oh happy days, I couldn't wait to be moved around on carts again and have my catheter tugged on by random strangers.
Radiology sends up a cart and wheels me on down for another couple of CAT scans of my head and neck and also some chest, back and neck x-rays. All of which came back showing nothing.
Funny thing CAT scans, they are awesome and very precise and show great amounts of detail, however, they are often not detailed enough without using contrast to find small or imperceptible damage. They are great for finding bleeds and large detail, but my pesky damage was eluding the cat scans once again. And of course the x-rays were negative.
And here I go again, wheeled back up into my room, everybody and their brother having a tug at my catheter tube, and I am rolled back into my bed.
So, my nystagmus is going full bore, my head is thumping, and the old feller is getting pretty sick of having his catheter tube used as a bungy cord. Thank God for Dilaudid... obviously by this point I was having a rough go of things, so they gave me some medication to help with the dizziness and my headache, the problem with Dilaudid is that it's very strong and it knocked me right out, so the majority of Monday daytime was somewhat of a blur from here on out.
Late afternoon comes around and Dr. Sherlock appears in my room, and sure enough nothing was found on the CAT scans or x-ray so sniffer of the yard decides that he has to investigate other paths to find out what's wrong with me. Again I will caveat that the doctor was trying to find or think of anything that could be wrong with me to save my life, so I have no complaints about that, what I do have a minor issue with, is that once again he would not listen to my wife or myself with our suggestion of retrying an MRI based on the fact that I had had the stroke in the MRI.
Dr. Sherlock decides that or thinks that, I might have Spinal Meningitis, or some other infection or problem with my spinal cord hence the paralyzing. The problem is that to find out if you do have an issue with your spinal cord they have to do a wonderful procedure known as a Lumbar Puncture, or otherwise known as a spinal tap. "There's a fine line between stupid and clever..." sorry couldn't resist a spinal tap reference...
Anyhoo... Dr. Sherlock informs me that the best way to have a lumbar puncture is to have it done in radiology because they can precisely pinpoint where the needle needs to go and thus get it right the first time with supreme accuracy.
However, once again in true Tarrant fashion, Mr. Murphy raised his bloody head and of course radiology was too busy to do it, so Dr. Sherlock was going to have to do it bedside, in other words going in blind. Again in Dr. Sherlock's defense as a neurologist this wasn't his first rodeo so he assured me that it would be as close as if I had the alternative. I did bleat and whine significantly about the fact of the pain, and that I was quite concerned about having THIS inserted into my spine :
But to no avail, Dr. Sherlock went ahead and with the help of my attending nurse for the day, James ( who was really cool) and Alice, they rolled me over, covered my back in iodine and plunged that puppy into my spinal chord.
I actually surprised myself and took the needle in my spine like a champ ( I was expecting to scream like a baby) and while it hurt significantly, it wasn't unbearable, it was more uncomfortable I would say than truly painful, and thankfully the pain medication I was on from earlier also took away some of the sting of the spinal tap. The after effects however not so much, and I will be going into that in a future post.
So to recap my Monday, I had been in and out of bed more times than Wilt Chamberlain, I had been prodded, poked, scanned, injected and everybody and his brother had somehow managed to snag and pull on my catheter tube all day.
Tell me why I don't like Mondays.
to be continued.
The thing about being in ICU is that while you are there to be healed and rest, you actually don't get any rest.
As from part one of this story you will recall that I had a rather unpleasant Sunday evening and was given some medication to help me sleep through the night. Had I been able to sleep through the night that would've been awesome, however due to the nature of ICU you are constantly woken during the night to make sure that you are okay and still alive.
Plus I had a blood pressure cuff that was set on automatic and connected to the vitals monitor which would check my blood pressure every 15 min. To start with this didn't bother me that much, but after a while hearing the initial buzz and the beep of the machine and knowing that once again the cuff was going to strangle my arm became rather annoying.
The other issue I had with the blood pressure cuff was that it would slide down my arm while I was laying there in bed so when it started to inflate it often couldn't find the correct pulse and would keep inflating and inflating and inflating to the point of cutting off my circulation and making it feel like my arm was about to fall off. There were several times when Alice had to go and stop the machine because it was hurting so badly.
So even though I had been given some very cool medication to help me rest, between the nurses coming in every half hour and the infernal blood pressure cuff I didn't get much sleep at all that first night.
Monday morning started for me around 4 AM, when the daily plethora of medication that I had to take, started to be bought into the room and administered.
At this point I'm still nil by mouth, so I'm hungry and thirsty and I can't have anything, they were even reluctant to allow me to have free access to ice chips which was the only respite I got for my thirst. Oh, and another thing, you'll probably recall from my original post regarding the catheter that was inserted before I went into the MRI, well let me tell you, this thing was so comfortable, NOT.
It turns out that they hadn't secured the catheter correctly to a clip that was attached to my leg, this clip was supposed to keep the catheter tube from moving when I shifted my body or when the nursing staff moved me around in the bed or transferred me to carts etc. Well it wasn't secured, and and as my last name is Tarrant, and Murphy's law is the law that governs my life, of course every time anybody came near me, moved me, touched me, did anything within 3000 linear feet of the bed, my catheter bag would of course get hit, which in turn tugged on the catheter tube.
Now I don't know how many of you readers have had a catheter inserted, but after it's been in there a while, if the tube starts to move, it's about as pleasant as throwing salt on an open wound, and as uncomfortable as listening to Richard Harris sing MacArthur Park..... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHS8hj4TdT8 anyway I digress..
Now it's early morning Monday, my nystagmus is going 100 miles an hour and making my eyes look like Marty Feldman on crack, my head is thumping like I've been on a bender with Oliver Reed, Richard Burton and George Best, and the bloody blood pressure cuff kicking in every 15 min., oh yeah life is just grand :-)
I soon get a visit from the first neurologist that saw me, I don't mean to be rude nor denigrate this Dr's skill, but Marcus Welby he wasn't. He proceeds to show up in my room and effectively he tells me that I didn't have a stroke.
Now call me old-fashioned, and I'm no doctor, but if it walks like a duck, looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, then there's a good chance, ... it's a duck.
Dr. Sherlock, whose bedside manner was well let's just say weak at best, tells me that all of the scans taken showed nothing other than that I have a brain in there, but there is nothing wrong with it.
Now in full disclosure, prior to Dr. Sherlock, that's not his real name by the way, coming into my room, the procession of nurses, attending physicians, hospitalists etc. that had come by my room and bedside, all pretty much said, man that looks like a stroke... except of course the good Dr.
I think Dr. Sherlock had been watching too episodes of House, and as the evidence was not empirical, he had deduced,that I must be suffering from any number of weird and wonderful diseases other than a stroke.
In defense of Dr. Sherlock, I understand his reasoning, here was a young, obviously very smart neurologist, who looking at scans saw no evidence of a crime. So to use parlance from the TV detective shows, I had all the MO and signs of a stroke, but the perp had left no evidence at the scene.
Now to describe Dr. Sherlock's bedside manner, getting a complete coherent sentence from Dr. Sherlock was very difficult, my case was obviously flummoxing him and he was struggling for an answer. He would make a statement similar to this "er, well uhm, yeah, hmmm, I don't see anything, er, well, hmmm" and so on and so forth.
Please don't take this the wrong way, I'm not second-guessing his reasoning, at all, I understand and I applaud the fact that he wanted to try everything and anything to find out what was making me sick, I am no web M.D. expert that tries to tell doctors what is wrong with me, so this is in no way a criticism of Dr. Sherlock and his attempts to figure out what was going on with me.
BUT, had he listened to me and Alice he could've saved two days and some expensive and unnecessary testing, and more importantly a painful process that I had to go through later that day.
We tried in vain to explain to Dr. Sherlock that I had experienced the true stroke while I was in the first MRI given, and that there was a great chance that the initial scan had occurred just as the stroke was happening or just prior, so that the scan showed no damage, because at the time of the scan there was none. Had Dr. Sherlock given me an MRI on Monday as we had requested, he would've seen the damage and the cause of the stroke, which was not evident on the first MRI.
So, Dr. Sherlock had informed us to our incredulity that I had not had a stroke, now call me old-fashioned again, but there I was lying in bed, half of me not working, and slurring like Harry Carey after a few beverages, though I knew instinctively what had happened to me although I could not prove it definitively.
Therefore Dr. Sherlock determined it was time for me to have some more tests, oh happy days, I couldn't wait to be moved around on carts again and have my catheter tugged on by random strangers.
Radiology sends up a cart and wheels me on down for another couple of CAT scans of my head and neck and also some chest, back and neck x-rays. All of which came back showing nothing.
Funny thing CAT scans, they are awesome and very precise and show great amounts of detail, however, they are often not detailed enough without using contrast to find small or imperceptible damage. They are great for finding bleeds and large detail, but my pesky damage was eluding the cat scans once again. And of course the x-rays were negative.
And here I go again, wheeled back up into my room, everybody and their brother having a tug at my catheter tube, and I am rolled back into my bed.
So, my nystagmus is going full bore, my head is thumping, and the old feller is getting pretty sick of having his catheter tube used as a bungy cord. Thank God for Dilaudid... obviously by this point I was having a rough go of things, so they gave me some medication to help with the dizziness and my headache, the problem with Dilaudid is that it's very strong and it knocked me right out, so the majority of Monday daytime was somewhat of a blur from here on out.
Late afternoon comes around and Dr. Sherlock appears in my room, and sure enough nothing was found on the CAT scans or x-ray so sniffer of the yard decides that he has to investigate other paths to find out what's wrong with me. Again I will caveat that the doctor was trying to find or think of anything that could be wrong with me to save my life, so I have no complaints about that, what I do have a minor issue with, is that once again he would not listen to my wife or myself with our suggestion of retrying an MRI based on the fact that I had had the stroke in the MRI.
Dr. Sherlock decides that or thinks that, I might have Spinal Meningitis, or some other infection or problem with my spinal cord hence the paralyzing. The problem is that to find out if you do have an issue with your spinal cord they have to do a wonderful procedure known as a Lumbar Puncture, or otherwise known as a spinal tap. "There's a fine line between stupid and clever..." sorry couldn't resist a spinal tap reference...
Anyhoo... Dr. Sherlock informs me that the best way to have a lumbar puncture is to have it done in radiology because they can precisely pinpoint where the needle needs to go and thus get it right the first time with supreme accuracy.
However, once again in true Tarrant fashion, Mr. Murphy raised his bloody head and of course radiology was too busy to do it, so Dr. Sherlock was going to have to do it bedside, in other words going in blind. Again in Dr. Sherlock's defense as a neurologist this wasn't his first rodeo so he assured me that it would be as close as if I had the alternative. I did bleat and whine significantly about the fact of the pain, and that I was quite concerned about having THIS inserted into my spine :
I actually surprised myself and took the needle in my spine like a champ ( I was expecting to scream like a baby) and while it hurt significantly, it wasn't unbearable, it was more uncomfortable I would say than truly painful, and thankfully the pain medication I was on from earlier also took away some of the sting of the spinal tap. The after effects however not so much, and I will be going into that in a future post.
So to recap my Monday, I had been in and out of bed more times than Wilt Chamberlain, I had been prodded, poked, scanned, injected and everybody and his brother had somehow managed to snag and pull on my catheter tube all day.
Tell me why I don't like Mondays.
to be continued.
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