Monday, August 31, 2009
Home Health NUTS (I mean, Nurses)
I have known my fair share of nurses over the years, and for the most part they have all been very sweet, caring, and well-educated. But, as in all things, there are those that are completely clueless. Unfortunately, I found a whole agency of them. Let me just say, they were so bad that my doctor got involved and fired the entire agency!
When I left the hospital I had to continue on IV antibiotics. The doctor wanted to be sure that all infections were totally cleared up. Since I wasn't yet capable of taking care of myself, I had to have my first home health visit at my mom's house. The nurse showed up and seemed to be very competent. She was nice enough, went over my medical history, and prepared to get yet another needle shoved into my chest. Thankfully, she hit the port on the first try. Then the problems began. She started to tape it down when the tape twisted. As she was trying to pull the tape off the needle came out of the port. Since time was running out for my next treatment she immediately gave it another shot. She thought she hit the port. After a number of attempts to flush the port with saline, I was in so much pain my mom finally told her to pack up her stuff and leave.
We grabbed my next treatment and headed to the ER. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. They pressed on my chest on the side where my port is located and it was very soft and puffy. The home health nurse had shot so much saline into my chest cavity that they had to give me pain medication. Once they located my medical records they immediately needled my port and started my IV antibiotics...two hours AFTER I was supposed to have it. So home I go.
The next day another home health nurse showed up at my home. This time the home health nurse had no clue what she was doing. She couldn't get the needle in my port for nothing. Again, I had to tell her to just leave. Again, I had to take the antibiotics and head to the ER for my treatment. Once my doctor got word of what had happened, not only once, but twice with the same agency, she called them up personally and fired them. Needless to say, I received a phone call from the agency. They wanted to know why my doctor called them up and fired them. I explained to them what had happened with the two nurses who had been sent to my home to take care of me. Not surprisingly, they tried to defend the nurses. I now knew why everyone that asked me who was going to be taking care of me at home was reluctant and told me to reconsider. Unfortunately, when you are in the military you tend to have to use who they tell you to. The only way to change it is to have things go wrong. At least I know who I don't want taking care of me, EVER AGAIN!
When I left the hospital I had to continue on IV antibiotics. The doctor wanted to be sure that all infections were totally cleared up. Since I wasn't yet capable of taking care of myself, I had to have my first home health visit at my mom's house. The nurse showed up and seemed to be very competent. She was nice enough, went over my medical history, and prepared to get yet another needle shoved into my chest. Thankfully, she hit the port on the first try. Then the problems began. She started to tape it down when the tape twisted. As she was trying to pull the tape off the needle came out of the port. Since time was running out for my next treatment she immediately gave it another shot. She thought she hit the port. After a number of attempts to flush the port with saline, I was in so much pain my mom finally told her to pack up her stuff and leave.
We grabbed my next treatment and headed to the ER. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. They pressed on my chest on the side where my port is located and it was very soft and puffy. The home health nurse had shot so much saline into my chest cavity that they had to give me pain medication. Once they located my medical records they immediately needled my port and started my IV antibiotics...two hours AFTER I was supposed to have it. So home I go.
The next day another home health nurse showed up at my home. This time the home health nurse had no clue what she was doing. She couldn't get the needle in my port for nothing. Again, I had to tell her to just leave. Again, I had to take the antibiotics and head to the ER for my treatment. Once my doctor got word of what had happened, not only once, but twice with the same agency, she called them up personally and fired them. Needless to say, I received a phone call from the agency. They wanted to know why my doctor called them up and fired them. I explained to them what had happened with the two nurses who had been sent to my home to take care of me. Not surprisingly, they tried to defend the nurses. I now knew why everyone that asked me who was going to be taking care of me at home was reluctant and told me to reconsider. Unfortunately, when you are in the military you tend to have to use who they tell you to. The only way to change it is to have things go wrong. At least I know who I don't want taking care of me, EVER AGAIN!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
ME?! BEHAVE?!
Thursday, April 16, 2009 - SURGERY DAY!!! There was a little anxiety. It was just another surgery, though. During the previous days I did make a friend that helped the days pass. She had a tumor in her cheek that she had removed. We did each other good. I was able to encourage her to get out and walk, and gave her someone to talk to. She gave me someone to talk to when my family couldn't be there. It was nice having a friend. But, now it was time for my surgery. The nurses came in early to take me to surgery. That took away some anxiety as it was a lot earlier than I was supposed to go. Because I am allergic to latex I had to be the first surgery of the day. That changed everything. On the other hand, I didn't have to feel hungry. There are benefits to every situation. You just have to know what to look for.
As I started to come out from anesthesia I remember telling the nurses I was hot. They found some floor fans and turned them on me. My husband was there when I first woke up. He told me that he had talked to me before and that I told him I was in a lot of pain. I don't remember that conversation at all. THANK GOD for anesthesia. See? Find the good in every situation. It didn't take long before I was on my way back to my room. I actually felt pretty good after my surgery. It didn't take me long before I was up and going to the bathroom. I started right away doing the exercises that my doctor taught me. At first it was a little painful, but my arm loosened up pretty quick. In order to not forget to do the exercises I started a routine for myself. Every time I went to the bathroom I did the exercises. This was a good routine as I went at least every two to three hours. Everything was going well and I was healing quickly.
A couple of days later I had my first good cry. I went to the bathroom and noticed that a piece of gauze had fallen on the floor. For the first time I pulled back on the binder to see if I could find where it had come out of. Seeing my mastectomy site was not a pretty site. The doctor left some excess skin as she knew I wanted to have reconstructive surgery later. I sat on the toilet and had a good cry. After my little period of "mourning" for the loss of my breast I called the nurse so they could redress my incision. By then I was okay with what I had seen. I had a little talk with God and felt better about my loss. Afterall, it was just a breast. Chickens lose them all the time! The cancer was gone and that is what I had to focus on. See? There again, look for the good in every situation. I can't stress that enough. I call it my "Pollyanna" attitude. It makes everything a lot easier to deal with. If all you focus on is the bad things in life you will be a very miserable, unhappy person. I chose to be happy. I like happy. NOTHING is wrong if you have the right attitude.
The next day I felt like I was in labor. I was going through the most dreaded surgery constipation. This was worse. At least childbirth went by quickly. This went on and on. I would sit in the bathroom trying to push. After three kids though my first reaction was to start the breathing techniques I was taught in Lamaze. I called the nurse and asked for a suppository and a stool softener. After a couple of hours had gone by I was finally able to "give birth". If I took anything away from this experience it was that you don't wait until you have been at least two days without a BM. If you go more than 12 hours you should ask for stool softeners as childbirth is no fun if there's no little bundle of joy to hold when it's over. On the other hand, this only lasted a couple of hours. A crying baby lasts a couple of months. There's that silver lining again.
Now, for the worst act of misbehaving yet! Everything was going well and it was time to go home. As I was on blood thinners, I was there until my blood was therapeutic. I was so close that the doctor decided to start me on Lovenox shots. I hated those shots as I had already endured them for about a month after the blood clot was discovered. You can only stick yourself in the same place so many times before thick, hard bumps and a lot of bruising occur. So, needless to say, I was NOT looking forward to these dreaded shots again. Well, I went to sleep on what was supposed to be my last night in the hospital. During the early morning I woke up to go to the bathroom. I felt a little funny, but dismissed it as a reaction to getting the shots again. After I was done in the bathroom I went to the sink to wash my hands and check on my drainage tubes. I was shocked to see that my side was covered in blood. I went over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. There was a large area of blood on the bed as well. I called the nurse. They got me cleaned up and my bedding changed. They assured me that everything was okay and that it looked like more blood than it really was. I went back to sleep. A couple of hours later I woke up very lightheaded and a little woozy. Once again I got up to go to the bathroom and right away noticed the huge pool of blood on my bad. Again, I called the nurse. They came in and cleaned me up yet again, trying to put a little more pressure with thick amounts of gauze under my binder. The doctor was called. When she came to see me I had lost quite a bit of blood. She used some kind of suction device that hooked up to my drainage tubes to suck the excess blood out of my body. It turns out that the Lovenox had a very strange and unusual side effect on me. Leave it to me to have something bazaar and out of the ordinary happen. My parents are STILL looking for that zipper that proves I'm an alien.
Over the next several hours I had to have blood draws. The doctor wanted to give me a transfusion, but I REALLY didn't want that. I asked her if there was anything else we could try first. She started me on iron tablets three times a day and ordered IV iron. I had two courses of IV iron. Yet another strange side effect - I started tasting walnut brownies! The nurse said that was the first time she had heard that one. Silver lining - at dinner that evening there just happened to be a walnut brownie on my tray for dessert! What are the odds? After a couple of blood draws that showed my levels were still dropping the doctor once again tried to talk me into a transfusion. We came to the agreement that if my next blood draw dropped again I would go through with the transfusion. THANK GOD that next blood draw showed improvement in my levels. The IV iron and the iron tablets three times a day had worked. I was finally improving. The bleeding had stopped, my levels looked good, and my Coumadin was therapeutic. I was finally going home.
As I started to come out from anesthesia I remember telling the nurses I was hot. They found some floor fans and turned them on me. My husband was there when I first woke up. He told me that he had talked to me before and that I told him I was in a lot of pain. I don't remember that conversation at all. THANK GOD for anesthesia. See? Find the good in every situation. It didn't take long before I was on my way back to my room. I actually felt pretty good after my surgery. It didn't take me long before I was up and going to the bathroom. I started right away doing the exercises that my doctor taught me. At first it was a little painful, but my arm loosened up pretty quick. In order to not forget to do the exercises I started a routine for myself. Every time I went to the bathroom I did the exercises. This was a good routine as I went at least every two to three hours. Everything was going well and I was healing quickly.
A couple of days later I had my first good cry. I went to the bathroom and noticed that a piece of gauze had fallen on the floor. For the first time I pulled back on the binder to see if I could find where it had come out of. Seeing my mastectomy site was not a pretty site. The doctor left some excess skin as she knew I wanted to have reconstructive surgery later. I sat on the toilet and had a good cry. After my little period of "mourning" for the loss of my breast I called the nurse so they could redress my incision. By then I was okay with what I had seen. I had a little talk with God and felt better about my loss. Afterall, it was just a breast. Chickens lose them all the time! The cancer was gone and that is what I had to focus on. See? There again, look for the good in every situation. I can't stress that enough. I call it my "Pollyanna" attitude. It makes everything a lot easier to deal with. If all you focus on is the bad things in life you will be a very miserable, unhappy person. I chose to be happy. I like happy. NOTHING is wrong if you have the right attitude.
The next day I felt like I was in labor. I was going through the most dreaded surgery constipation. This was worse. At least childbirth went by quickly. This went on and on. I would sit in the bathroom trying to push. After three kids though my first reaction was to start the breathing techniques I was taught in Lamaze. I called the nurse and asked for a suppository and a stool softener. After a couple of hours had gone by I was finally able to "give birth". If I took anything away from this experience it was that you don't wait until you have been at least two days without a BM. If you go more than 12 hours you should ask for stool softeners as childbirth is no fun if there's no little bundle of joy to hold when it's over. On the other hand, this only lasted a couple of hours. A crying baby lasts a couple of months. There's that silver lining again.
Now, for the worst act of misbehaving yet! Everything was going well and it was time to go home. As I was on blood thinners, I was there until my blood was therapeutic. I was so close that the doctor decided to start me on Lovenox shots. I hated those shots as I had already endured them for about a month after the blood clot was discovered. You can only stick yourself in the same place so many times before thick, hard bumps and a lot of bruising occur. So, needless to say, I was NOT looking forward to these dreaded shots again. Well, I went to sleep on what was supposed to be my last night in the hospital. During the early morning I woke up to go to the bathroom. I felt a little funny, but dismissed it as a reaction to getting the shots again. After I was done in the bathroom I went to the sink to wash my hands and check on my drainage tubes. I was shocked to see that my side was covered in blood. I went over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. There was a large area of blood on the bed as well. I called the nurse. They got me cleaned up and my bedding changed. They assured me that everything was okay and that it looked like more blood than it really was. I went back to sleep. A couple of hours later I woke up very lightheaded and a little woozy. Once again I got up to go to the bathroom and right away noticed the huge pool of blood on my bad. Again, I called the nurse. They came in and cleaned me up yet again, trying to put a little more pressure with thick amounts of gauze under my binder. The doctor was called. When she came to see me I had lost quite a bit of blood. She used some kind of suction device that hooked up to my drainage tubes to suck the excess blood out of my body. It turns out that the Lovenox had a very strange and unusual side effect on me. Leave it to me to have something bazaar and out of the ordinary happen. My parents are STILL looking for that zipper that proves I'm an alien.
Over the next several hours I had to have blood draws. The doctor wanted to give me a transfusion, but I REALLY didn't want that. I asked her if there was anything else we could try first. She started me on iron tablets three times a day and ordered IV iron. I had two courses of IV iron. Yet another strange side effect - I started tasting walnut brownies! The nurse said that was the first time she had heard that one. Silver lining - at dinner that evening there just happened to be a walnut brownie on my tray for dessert! What are the odds? After a couple of blood draws that showed my levels were still dropping the doctor once again tried to talk me into a transfusion. We came to the agreement that if my next blood draw dropped again I would go through with the transfusion. THANK GOD that next blood draw showed improvement in my levels. The IV iron and the iron tablets three times a day had worked. I was finally improving. The bleeding had stopped, my levels looked good, and my Coumadin was therapeutic. I was finally going home.
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