In June when my husband looked at me and oh so seriously stated, "Well it is that time of year for you." I wanted to dig out my cast iron skillet and go "Southern" on that mans head. period. I believe my look, said it all though.
True to form, I had an appointment with my Lung Transplant clinic on July1, and was promptly admitted. Though I still wonder why. Yes, I was coughing terribly. Yes, my PFT's were down. But seriously folks, It's that time of year. I have always given myself IVs . I mean who has time to wait for a nurse twice a day? This is my life, and I choose to do them myself.
One of the new Transplant Docs has a wonderful way of making his patients feel secure and safe. Just like Dr. Baz used to. I was feeling so horrible, I fell for it- hook, line and sinker. I agreed to be admitted, start antibiotics and have a bronchoscopy in the morning. I was put on the overflow wing the 8th floor. At first I was hesitant, until I realized these were all the nurses I had when on 11 in the old building ! It was like old home week, we talked, chatted and laughed- well until Dr. Salgado popped in and said I was being moved to 5. Deep depression sets in... My feeling of safeness slowly dissipates.. My nurse Eron, accessed my port and I did not even feel it! That is a huge Hooray for me.
For those of you who have never had a port, it feels like a small nickel size circle under the skin on one side of your chest. This is accessed with a special needle, and many make it feel like they are trying to pin you to the chair when inserting the needle. It never comes out- so my other veins (which are non-existent) get saved. The only down side is, when they change the needle there is no new place to go into. Yep, the needle goes into the same slightly sore spot your old needle just left.
Needless to say, I was only in for one day. I could not wait to leave ! A letter to hospital Administration is in the works. This was the most traumatic experience I can remember. I was discharged with A-fib on July 2 and to this day still have it. This may not seem like much to you, but I had been A-fib free for close to one year and we were decreasing my meds. The stress caused by 2 nurses on 5 started this.Suffice it to say, trauma nurses should not be lung transplant nurses. They should not be required to leave the room of a trauma patient and decompress to care for a transplant patient on the mend.
Enough on that subject. The situation we have fought for 6 years has happened. The "pus" and infection from my right lung has now started settling in my left lung. They should have yanked that trouble causing PITA when I asked years ago ! So now my natural progression will more than likely speed up. I have faced this before, and will again.. Only this time there will be no new transplant - the only light at the end of the tunnel will be final freedom of pain.
So I came home with IV antibiotics, nebulizer again twice a day (which will be continuous) and alot of prayers. My IV was finished on Friday. Yay for a decent shower! So now I am hopeful the A-fib will correct itself. I have gone from 12.5 mg of Metoprolol twice a day to 50mg twice a day. I can barely stay awake as this slows not only my heart rate( which it hasn't as of yet) but the rest of my body as well. Naps are no longer around 1PM, but 11Am lasting until about 5PM. So basically, I have no life except for auditioning for the role of Sleeping Beauty :) This medication also creates nausea and what feels like an intestinal flu but is in reality a side effect. Yes, it is too high a dose for me. I guess the next option will be to shock my heart back into a normal rhythm... They better start convincing now for say 2017 right?
I'm ever anxious to get my body and life back on track and start living again. No this is not a complaint, just stating a mere fact. I have a Bucket List to experience with Ozzi after all- who has recently had a tumor removed from his nose. We are quite a pair in our old age ain't we?
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