PCMH

It was 12:00 midnight and we were on our way to the hospital.  When we drove away, I usually look at the house and hope I will bring John back safe and sound soon.  Strange, that night I didn't look.

John was doing okay on the way to the hospital and other than a HP traffic stop at the Greene-Pitt County line, all went well.  When we stopped, Lauren was rummaging through my purse trying to find my license. I thought about telling the officer it was an emergency and we were on our way to the hospital, but I didn't know if that would create more drama, so I just dug out my license and started to hand it to him.  Before I got it completely out, he said, "I see them Ms. Adams, you can go on."  Lauren said to me, "He must have known who you are, you didn't even get your license all the way out of the holder."  It didn't matter, all I wanted to do was get my baby to the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital, Lauren ran in and told them we needed help getting John out.  Two burly men appeared and in no time, John was in a wheelchair headed to the ER.  I parked the car and rushed inside.  Lauren was giving them his information, John had already been taken to the ER.  Once I came in, I was directed to a lady to finish his check in.  I hadn't had to do this before, so I was a little flummoxed by why I had to do it now.  "We just left this morning," I said, when she asked me for our address.  She entered it and then asked for phone number and other information.  I queried her again, "You should have all of this information, we just checked out this morning."  She asked me about who our insurance was with and if finally occurred to me, she has the wrong person pulled up.  After getting that all straightened out, I rushed back to be with John and Lauren.

The ER swat team had already started.  Taking temperature, blood pressure, blood samples, (again, they were happy he had a PICC line, saves them lots of work), swabbing Mersa samples from his nose, doing X-Rays, getting information into the system, hooking him up to an EKG machine and putting those awful little sticky receptors on.  John was doing well giving them his vitals and as before, he would ask about our friend, Jonsie, a nurse there.  But she was on vacation to the islands, he had forgotten.

Before long, the initial frenzy was over, now we wait for the blood tests, x-ray results, and anything else.  They had put John on 100% oxygen and it had eased his labored breathing and we all sat there looking at each other.   One of the nurses came in, it was a "he", very personable and smart.  John was in good hands.

But it was Halloween, where were all the crazies we thought we would see?  About that time, a stretcher goes by with a young man with face paint on.  Guess it was starting.  "We thought this place would be a zoo tonight, where is everyone?" I said.  "Won't start till around 2:30 a.m. when all the bars close.  We have about 20 doctors and medical personnel stationed at strategic locations downtown to try and get some of them helped before they come to the hospital," he said.  "With Halloween being on Sunday night, it may be a little better, we had quite a few in here last night."

John was resting comfortably now, so to entertain ourselves, Lauren and I kept watch for 'trick or treaters'.

Before long, the doctor came in with the test results.  Nothing major to report, potassium levels were a little off, x-ray looked good, heart okay.  Starting prednisone, an antibiotic as he could be developing pneumonia, get a breathing treatment, maybe some Lasix to help with swelling in his legs and feet, major issue was his oxygen level.  Of course now, his levels were good, but he was on 100% oxygen.  Not good, would need to that down to a normal level.

By now it was nearly 4 a.m., time flies when you are having fun.  They told us he would be assigned to a room soon.....in the "ghetto ward'.  Unfortunately, the oncology or cancer ward, was in the old section of the hospital.  The staff there is wonderful, but the rooms are small and ill designed.  So, after John's first hospital stay in the new and very impressive Heart Institute...our tax money at work, I might add, we were spoiled.  Moving from the large, well appointed rooms at the Heart Institute (the Palace is the name given by staff) to the Oncology Ward was like going from the executive suite at the Marriott to Motel 6, no comparison. So, we had started calling it affectionately, the "ghetto ward".  His doctors even teased him and called it that too.  But, we would have a room for him and maybe everyone could rest.

To be continued....
PCQ