My Recent Hospital Stay

Rohag · 04:14 PM

Trigger icon added for descriptions of hospital procedures; although this is an attempt at a humorous report of a hospital visit, some PCers may find the hospital references trigger bad memories.

My Hospital Visit

OR

They Took My Vitals and Forgot to Return Them

OR

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Heparin Shots

Last week, from Monday through Sunday, I took advantage of a professional development opportunity for my position as a FDETS*, tests involving hospitalization with enforced sleep deprivation.

Results: The tests were able to elicit only meager evidence, but the preliminary conclusions are

there's a 98% chance I'm not dead,
there's a 85+% chance I'm alive, and
it is unlikely I'm suffering from a serious neurological condition requiring surgery;
some mystery remains.

Snapshots of My Time in the Hospital

Nurse: “Ready for the stick?”
I say: “Yes.”
I think: “Oh, this doesn't sound good. 'The stick' – hope that isn't a baseball bat...”

EEG Technician: “Lots of wires here...”
I think: “They're hooking me up to the Matrix!”

Nurse: “Call us whenever you need to use the restroom and someone will escort you to ensure your safety.”
I say: “Certainly. Thank you.”
I think: “Ah, nothing like having to be escorted whenever you leave the bed. With all these wires, I hope the escorts are electricians.”

Nurse 1: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 2: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 3: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 4: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
Nurse 5: “You know why we're giving you heparin shots? It's to prevent blood clots...”
I think: “Nothing like a little repetition to reinforce the lesson.”

Nurse: “Just a little stick...”

Nurse: “Please pull up your gown and expose your belly. That's good, now one, two, THREE!”

EEG Technician: “You'll feel a little pressure...”

TV: “And this other great facial is based on snail secretions...”
Me: “Argh! Channel...controls...just...beyond...reach...”

Nurse: “Here are your morning meds.”
I say sleepily: “Thank you very much.”
I think: “Morning? Morning!? Grrr...”

Nurse (joking): “Would you like me to beat you up? I'll close the door, cover the cameras, and have at you!
Me (half-joking): “I'm sure I wouldn't enjoy that. However, if it provides the doctors with good, useful data that gets me out of here sooner, then go for it. Definitely.”

Me, to self in wee hours: “Infomercials and 'History of the Ku Klux Klan' – gotta love late-night programming...”

Disembodied voice of the EEG Observation Tech through an intercom: “Are you alright?”
I say: “Yes, I'm OK. Thank you.”
I think: “Note to self: Singing to myself and conducting invisible orchestras while listening to music are regarded as suspicious activities here.”

Nurse, one midmorning: “Would you like to do your birdbath now while I fix your bed?”

Nurse: “You'll feel just a little stick...”
I say: “Certainly. Go ahead. … Thank you.”
I think: “What's the deal with these 'little sticks'? They're obviously using a definition of 'little' I'm unfamiliar with. Hey, I have a low pain threshold! Of course, that's balanced out by tiredness and depressive apathy. It's one thing to be in pain and another to care you're in pain.”

Me, talking to the TV: “Adam's such a scoundrel. Sharon, he's lying again! Your baby is alive!”
Me, talking to self: “Rohag, you've reached a new personal low.”

Nurse: “So, this is your sixth consecutive night of sleep deprivation?”
I say: “Yes.”
I think: “I'm going for the record!” (Well, my record. I've had these tests before.)

Food Service (the first day): “Here's your lunch...”
I say: “Thank you much! Have a good day.”
I think: “Oh, goody. Institutional food.”

Food Service (the last day): “Here's your lunch...”
I say: “Thank you much! Have a good day.”
I think: “Food Service! Oh, thank the Heavens and may the day of your birth and those of your children be blessed! Lunch!!! Yum!!!”

Doctor, next to last day: “We'd love to see you have one of your 'major episodes,' but, even if you don't present, we're releasing you tomorrow.”
I say: “I'm sorry I've given you so little workable data. I'll do my best.”
I think: “Sleep-depriving an insomniac in a safe, benign environment isn't the way to go here if you want to see me explode.”

Nurse, day of release: “Not exactly Five-Star treatment, huh?”
Me: “I can't complain, but I guess this can't really be described as a luxury spa vacation.”
Nurse: “I'd be worried about you if you thought that.”

-----
*FDETS: Federal Deficit Enhancement Technical Specialist, also known as a FBPTS (Federal Bureaucracy Preservation Technical Specialist) – may refer to 1) a person on disability, 2) a congressman. Guess what I am.

Naturefreak · Mar 09, 2010, 05:29 PM

So happy

to see you still have your great sense of humor .
Welcome back

lynn P. · Mar 09, 2010, 05:59 PM

Happy you're back Rohag

- I agree they didn't take your sense of humor.

Did they come to any conclusion?

Rohag · Mar 09, 2010, 06:13 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by lynn P.

Did they come to any conclusion?

Based on the little hard data they were able to squeeze out of me during my days in the hospital, "it is unlikely I'm suffering from a serious neurological condition requiring surgery" is about as much as they can say. That in itself is good news, although it does leave some of the mystery surrounding my "episodes" intact.

Thank you all for your concern!

Elysium · Mar 09, 2010, 08:56 PM

Glad to hear you're back and that you are not suffering from a serious Neurological condition requiring surgery!!

I adore your sense of humor here. Hospitals are the pitts, I know, I've been on both sides of the bedrails. Snarkiness definitely helps get you through the sleep deprivation and delicious institutional food.

I am curious though....

Quote:

Originally Posted by Rohag

Based on the little hard data they were able to squeeze out of me during my days in the hospital....

....would this be the definition of "little" you are familiar with, or the one you aren't familiar with?

Nice to have you back. I missed you.

Rohag · Mar 09, 2010, 09:44 PM

Elysium!

"Little" - my layman's definition in this case. Out of the seven days they were only able to capture one "event" (one I call a "minor episode"). The doctors say they couldn't find any abnormal EEG signatures associated with it.

They told me it would have been bad to find abnormal stuff; I've been on meds that should suppress such abnormalities. Weirdnesses that don't respond to meds, so I'm told, easily could require dangerously intrusive investigations.

So, I'm still weird, but not the kind of weird that might require them to go poking around where I'd rather they not.

Does that make sense?

sanityseeker · Mar 09, 2010, 10:03 PM

Quite the experience. Geesh! I am a chronic insomniac, usually miss at least one or two nights every week. Sometimes more but usually by day 3 or 4 I am able to sleep again. If it gets to 4 nights in a row I am a mess emotionally. Push it to a week and my heart feels like it is going to give out for all the skipping, I am usually shaking all over, the rapid mood swings turn me into a monster and my memory of the time is mostly foggy. I am amazed they do these kinds of studies actually. Seems to me it could be dangerous for some people.