Thursday, December 20, 2012

The Big Gun, A Plastic Sheet, & Sweet Sleep

After the CT Scan there are hours that I essentially lost. I couldn't move. I could barely talk. I was in and out of consciousness. Text messages from my mom to my sisters during this time said, "It's minute-by-minute right now. She's in and out of consciousness. Keep praying."

The blood culture showed fairly early (compared to the 48 hours that it could have taken) that I was septic, due to Group B Strep. The Infectious Disease Control Doctor prescribed Vancomycin, a "big gun" in the world of antibiotics. It's used for treating MRSA and other penicillin-resistant staph infections. It's the "last resort" for when all else has failed. This big gun requires a central IV line, in other words, a line into a major artery in the neck, it's too caustic for a peripheral line.

Apparently there's a saying among medical professionals about not being treated by August resident doctors, or something to that effect that meant: When you are treated by a resident doctor in August, you're being treated by complete newbies. In other words, they're learning on YOU. Guess what? I had not one, not two, but THREE brand spanking new resident doctors working on me to get that central IV line in. This is what happened: my family (husband, dad, mom) was ushered out of my ER room and I was awakened by three young doctors. "We need you to roll onto your side." I replied, "You're going to have to do that for me, I can't move." They rolled me over. They said, "We're going to put a sheet over your head," and then they put a plastic sheet over my head.

Yes. A plastic sheet. Over my head.

At this point, I thought/prayed, "Lord, I must be really sick. I'd like to see my babies grow-up, but if it's not Your plan, I understand. They're in Your hands, You'll take care of them. If my husband and I are not going to have a successful marriage, take me home now. I'm ready."

There were two residents on my right side, behind me at this point, the third had walked out and would return later. One was a man, the other was a pregnant woman. The pregnant lady was the lucky one to do my central line. I, however, was not lucky. She'd never put in a central line... at least not on a live person.

Male resident: "Make a small incision... Good... Now, insert the tube..."

Female resident: "I can't find where it goes..."

Male: "You might need to do some exploration before it goes in..."

Me: (thinking) "Really? She doesn't have a clue as to what she's doing. I hope she doesn't kill me. Of course, it's really hot, I can't breathe under this plastic. They're going to suffocate me if she doesn't kill me first."

There was sweat rolling down my forehead and into my eyes. I tried to say, "Help. Can't breathe," but those words just wouldn't form. Finally, that third resident came back into the room and stood in front of my face. I looked up at him, pleading, "Please, help me." He looked down at me, up at the other two, and said, "She's sweating! Looks like she's having trouble breathing!" He lifted the plastic sheet up and in rushed fresh air. I mouthed, "Thank you."

From my mom and dad I later learned that as they were ushered out they were told a central line was going to be put in so Vancomycin could be administered to combat the Group B Strep. My parents nearly lost a friend a year ago to an allergic reaction to Vancomycin. They were  terrified extremely concerned.  Dad headed to the hospital chapel to pray. Mom and my husband just waited... praying.

I vaguely remember the residents finishing the central line, rolling me over, and leaving. I vaguely remember falling asleep with that new central line and thinking, "I just want to sleep. I'm so tired."

My family held vigil over me while I slept. I woke around 7:30 am, shocked to see that it was, indeed, 7:30 am on Saturday, August 18 2012.

1 comment:

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