My plans had a wrench thrown in them this week when, after feeling a little under the weather for a couple days, I came down with a 100.2 temperature on Tuesday. For most people (and for me up until a year ago), a 100.2 temperature means they pop a Tylenol and take a nap. For me, it requires getting admitted to the hospital. One misconception many people have about me is that when I get admitted to the hospital, I must be really sick; however, in my four hospital admissions since my transplant, this has never been the case. Unfortunately, the combination of me taking immuno-suppressant medications, being 128 days post-transplant, and having a central line (Hickman catheter that’s like a permanent IV planted under my skin), makes me extremely susceptible to rapidly spreading infections and requires extra caution regarding fevers. Zack and I avoid telling most people when I get admitted because we don’t want people to assume that I’m doing badly.
Good news first: this hospital stay was my shortest yet! I got discharged today after a little over 48 hours, which is the minimum required for a fever-related hospital admission. As soon as I get admitted, they draw blood cultures, and if those cultures come back negative and I haven’t had any fevers for 48 hours, I can be discharged.
The reason my post is entitled “Hospital Frustrations” is that with each admission, I feel more and more like I’m being treated like a child with no control over my own schedule, body, medications, and the like. The hospital’s regulations at times border on the absurd. When checking my medications upon admission and finding that I take Viactiv calcium chews, the nurse was required to confiscate them and get them checked and labeled by the pharmacy before I was allowed to take any, which took (no joke) about 5 hours. Feeling like I was undergoing a drug bust, I laughingly handed over the calcium. I have no idea where the order came from, but the very next day, my nurse informed me that she needed to again confiscate my chews to get them re-checked by pharmacy. What did they think, that I snuck some crack in my Viactiv chews overnight? That in the 12 hours since being thoroughly examined by a pharmacist, the calcium had somehow morphed into a forbidden substance?
Another prime example of absurd regulations is my inability to check my blood sugar and administer my own insulin while in the hospital. As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, the steroids I’ve been on since transplant have elevated my blood sugar to the point that I’ve needed insulin to regulate it through the use of Lantus and Humalog insulin “pens” (needles), which I’ve been doing for the past several months. Because my blood sugar issue is related to steroids and not diabetes, it often doesn’t follow a set pattern or ratio and requires a lot of understanding of my body and blood sugar pattern over time. When I’m in the hospital, however, they not only confiscate my pens and blood sugar monitor, but they require me to check my blood sugar using their machine and have a nurse present when I administer each shot. Before each meal and before bedtime, I have to page the nurse and wait for her to gather all my supplies, check my sugar, and check my insulin dose before I can even administer my shot and eat. During this hospital stay, this process took, on average, about 40 minutes each time.
To close, I’d like to quote two men known far and wide for their integrity, virtue, and wisdom. *Abraham Lincoln once said, “If you don’t return my Humalog pen, I will attack you with the North.” **Or, in the words of Mel Gibson, “GIVE ME BACK MY [PEN]!”
*Disclaimer: you must be a true fan of The Office to understand this humor.
**True movie buffs, my husband being one of them, will known the source of this quote.
Good news first: this hospital stay was my shortest yet! I got discharged today after a little over 48 hours, which is the minimum required for a fever-related hospital admission. As soon as I get admitted, they draw blood cultures, and if those cultures come back negative and I haven’t had any fevers for 48 hours, I can be discharged.
The reason my post is entitled “Hospital Frustrations” is that with each admission, I feel more and more like I’m being treated like a child with no control over my own schedule, body, medications, and the like. The hospital’s regulations at times border on the absurd. When checking my medications upon admission and finding that I take Viactiv calcium chews, the nurse was required to confiscate them and get them checked and labeled by the pharmacy before I was allowed to take any, which took (no joke) about 5 hours. Feeling like I was undergoing a drug bust, I laughingly handed over the calcium. I have no idea where the order came from, but the very next day, my nurse informed me that she needed to again confiscate my chews to get them re-checked by pharmacy. What did they think, that I snuck some crack in my Viactiv chews overnight? That in the 12 hours since being thoroughly examined by a pharmacist, the calcium had somehow morphed into a forbidden substance?
Another prime example of absurd regulations is my inability to check my blood sugar and administer my own insulin while in the hospital. As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, the steroids I’ve been on since transplant have elevated my blood sugar to the point that I’ve needed insulin to regulate it through the use of Lantus and Humalog insulin “pens” (needles), which I’ve been doing for the past several months. Because my blood sugar issue is related to steroids and not diabetes, it often doesn’t follow a set pattern or ratio and requires a lot of understanding of my body and blood sugar pattern over time. When I’m in the hospital, however, they not only confiscate my pens and blood sugar monitor, but they require me to check my blood sugar using their machine and have a nurse present when I administer each shot. Before each meal and before bedtime, I have to page the nurse and wait for her to gather all my supplies, check my sugar, and check my insulin dose before I can even administer my shot and eat. During this hospital stay, this process took, on average, about 40 minutes each time.
To close, I’d like to quote two men known far and wide for their integrity, virtue, and wisdom. *Abraham Lincoln once said, “If you don’t return my Humalog pen, I will attack you with the North.” **Or, in the words of Mel Gibson, “GIVE ME BACK MY [PEN]!”
*Disclaimer: you must be a true fan of The Office to understand this humor.
**True movie buffs, my husband being one of them, will known the source of this quote.
Stepping foot into a hospital is never fun as a patient, and I sympathize with being figuratively handcuffed and spoon fed. On the bright side though, I'm glad they cleared you quickly for the 4th of July weekend :]
ReplyDeleteBecky, I just read your post. I am so sorry to hear how they are treating you over there and will keep praying for you to return home ASAP. At the same time I couldn't keep from help laughing. You are hillarious! I love the quotes. Hang in there my friend. I love you.
ReplyDeletePs. Be sure to get rid of all the crack you secretly hid!
Tesha
Mel Gibson had it right....and the movie Tangled tells a lot of what you are feeling too (I watched it in your honor on the flight from Barcelona to Atlanta)....your observations on the main character were right on (spot on)! It must be awful to feel that you aren't a person - probably not even a child - but a prisoner (well if you didn't do crack they might not....)....must be very very hard to be patient and know it will pass. Love you lots and can only send you praise, prayers and thankfulness that you are home! XXOO Aunt Debbie
ReplyDelete