Another week has passed by.
My other half spent four days in the Coronary intensive care unit.
Prior to surgery I was told that he may spend just a day or two days in the intensive care unit.
I was not going to visit while he was in there, because I get a bit freaked out by these places.
There is such a lot going on and flashing lights, beeping machines set me on edge.
However on consideration I had to put my ‘big girl pants’ on, grit my teeth, ball up my fists and go see him.
After all if he could have his rib cage cracked open and his main pump fiddled with….then I could not really ‘wimp out’ at a visit.
So I went with my son in law.
Getting into ICU is something else.
You have to be buzzed in.
Yes of course this makes perfect sense.
You do not want any Tom and Jerry sauntering through into the unit.
When I got in there I was shocked by the size of it.
20 beds….20 patients hanging onto life by their finger tips….and each one with their own nurse at the lectern at the foot of their bed.
Large sheets of documentation…I think they might be A1 size….they almost looked like scribbled on bed sheets.
Yet I know that every function was being monitored.
My old feller was in a side room, for no other reason than it was the only empty space the had when he returned from theatre.
The nursing staff were just amazing.
It was a better experience that I had expected.
Yes it was intense, yes there were screens with coloured moving lines, yes there were beeps and buzzing, but I was given such reassurances that everything was going to plan, that himself was doing everything that he should be doing.
I came away feeling far more hopeful than I did on my first visit after the ‘balloon procedure’
He was sitting up, complaining that the ripple mattress that was to prevent pressure damage, was noisy and sounded like someone ‘heavy breathing’ all night long.
He complained that his monkey bone was hurting, but never mentioned the big incision in the centre of his chest.
I was told that he would be home a week after his surgery.
How amazing is that?
You can have such major surgery and be back home in seven days.
Yes, well tha plan is only if everything goes to text book plans, not everything does.
After four days in ICU himself was on the move again.
This time to ward 39.
He was off the monitor and looked set fair for the text book discharge plan.
So he should be sat here at home with me right now.
Is he?
Is he heck as like.
He had been on ward 39 for just about 24 hours when he had two episodes of dizziness and feeling strange.
That is how he described it.
They did a monitoring and found that he had Atrial Fibrillation.
This is a situation where the heart does not beat as it should, it just sort of flutters.
This means that the blood flow out of the heart is reduced…the cardiac output is less than it should be.
So he was put back on real time monitoring.
He has continued to have episodes of AF, so this is what is keeping him in the hospital.
He was seen by his surgeon and reassured that this is something that they expect after this surgery, that up to 40% of post op patients get it.
That it does settle down on its own, or sometimes needs medical treatment, and his has needed medical treatment a few times.
I want him home. I can’t wait to have him home.
I got quite giddy earlier in the week.
A bit like a child anticipating Christmas.
Telling myself ‘just two more sleeps’ before he will be back here with me.
But I want to have him home in a situation that has less worry for me and that isn’t happening just now.
I have to stay patient, stay focused and trust that when the time is right it will all fall into place
My other half spent four days in the Coronary intensive care unit.
Prior to surgery I was told that he may spend just a day or two days in the intensive care unit.
I was not going to visit while he was in there, because I get a bit freaked out by these places.
There is such a lot going on and flashing lights, beeping machines set me on edge.
However on consideration I had to put my ‘big girl pants’ on, grit my teeth, ball up my fists and go see him.
After all if he could have his rib cage cracked open and his main pump fiddled with….then I could not really ‘wimp out’ at a visit.
So I went with my son in law.
Getting into ICU is something else.
You have to be buzzed in.
Yes of course this makes perfect sense.
You do not want any Tom and Jerry sauntering through into the unit.
When I got in there I was shocked by the size of it.
20 beds….20 patients hanging onto life by their finger tips….and each one with their own nurse at the lectern at the foot of their bed.
Large sheets of documentation…I think they might be A1 size….they almost looked like scribbled on bed sheets.
Yet I know that every function was being monitored.
My old feller was in a side room, for no other reason than it was the only empty space the had when he returned from theatre.
The nursing staff were just amazing.
It was a better experience that I had expected.
Yes it was intense, yes there were screens with coloured moving lines, yes there were beeps and buzzing, but I was given such reassurances that everything was going to plan, that himself was doing everything that he should be doing.
I came away feeling far more hopeful than I did on my first visit after the ‘balloon procedure’
He was sitting up, complaining that the ripple mattress that was to prevent pressure damage, was noisy and sounded like someone ‘heavy breathing’ all night long.
He complained that his monkey bone was hurting, but never mentioned the big incision in the centre of his chest.
I was told that he would be home a week after his surgery.
How amazing is that?
You can have such major surgery and be back home in seven days.
Yes, well tha plan is only if everything goes to text book plans, not everything does.
After four days in ICU himself was on the move again.
This time to ward 39.
He was off the monitor and looked set fair for the text book discharge plan.
So he should be sat here at home with me right now.
Is he?
Is he heck as like.
He had been on ward 39 for just about 24 hours when he had two episodes of dizziness and feeling strange.
That is how he described it.
They did a monitoring and found that he had Atrial Fibrillation.
This is a situation where the heart does not beat as it should, it just sort of flutters.
This means that the blood flow out of the heart is reduced…the cardiac output is less than it should be.
So he was put back on real time monitoring.
He has continued to have episodes of AF, so this is what is keeping him in the hospital.
He was seen by his surgeon and reassured that this is something that they expect after this surgery, that up to 40% of post op patients get it.
That it does settle down on its own, or sometimes needs medical treatment, and his has needed medical treatment a few times.
I want him home. I can’t wait to have him home.
I got quite giddy earlier in the week.
A bit like a child anticipating Christmas.
Telling myself ‘just two more sleeps’ before he will be back here with me.
But I want to have him home in a situation that has less worry for me and that isn’t happening just now.
I have to stay patient, stay focused and trust that when the time is right it will all fall into place
