Monday, April 16, 2012

Pulmonary Emboli...




He
almost
died.






If I had
left
a
little
bit
earlier...







If I hadn't
stopped
to
kiss
him
good-bye...









If I hadn't
called
the
ambulance...






A
thousand
Ifs
on
April 4...








and
I would
have
lost
him...





Let
the
story
begin...













Breakfast
at
the
Pancake
House...

(Gluten-
free).





Golf
with
Chris
and
Calvin...








Then
Tom
gets
sick,
dizzy.

He goes home.





He's
emptying
the
kitty
litter...






Garage
step...



He falls...














Rips
the
tendon
off his
kneecap!

Terrible pain!







Quick!

to
the
ER!










Pain meds
and
bedrest
till we can
schedule
surgery.




Tuesday
spent
flat in bed
groggy
with
medication.











Wednesday
April
4th.

(and
the pictures
stop).


I'm up early
ready to drive
to New Castle
to take care
of dogs.

I see Tom
awake
and pause
to kiss him
good-bye.

I had trouble
last night
going
to the bathroom,
he says.

I got dizzy
and
hyperventilated.

And I'm going
to need
to go again
soon.

Go, now.
I say.
While I'm here.

He goes.

Next thing I know
he's standing
in the doorway
of the bathroom.

Sweating, panting.

He lurches
into the kitchen.
Drops his crutch.

Let me get you a chair,
I cry.
I'm afraid he's going
down.

No, he gasps,
I've got to get to bed.

We stumble together.
He's grabbing walls and tables
to stay upright.

We get to his den-bed
and he falls
crosswise,
head falls back
his eyes roll up
and he is out.

I'm yelling,
Tom, Tom wake up!
Come back to me.
Desperation in my voice
I'm shaking him,
hitting his chest.
I think
I'm losing him.

It was only moments,
but it felt like
a lifetime.

.
.
.

Then
silently
he came back.


He woke
so slightly,
spun around in bed
and
fell asleep.

What to do now?
I called 3 doctor friends.
All said -
probably syncope,
an exaggerated faint,
caused by
dehydration.

No.
I couldn't take it.

I called the ambulance
and
took him to the ER.

Tom laid on the ER bed.
The nice young doc kept looking at the bedside monitor and frowning.
He would move the oxygen probe from one of Tom's fingers to another.
Frowning all the time.
Looking for a finger that would give him a better reading.

"Looks like Tom's oxygen is low"
That's odd.
We'll get a chest X-ray looking for pneumonia.

They wheeled Tom out and I sat in the ER.
My mind took me back
to Spring 2 years ago.
When I sat in a similar hospital room
and watched my Dad die.

I felt a shudder in my soul.

Tom:
Chest xray - normal
So we do a CT scan
and find...

Pulmonary
Emboli.

Clots that formed in the injured legs
then broke off,
charged up to his lungs
and blocked off
the flow
of blood.

A frequent cause
of sudden death.
I've autopsied many of them.

I did
almost
lose
him.

And even now there's risk more clot could hit at any time.

We rush him
- OK - 4 hours - to St Vincents on 86th Street.
More tests.
His right heart is failing from the clot burden in his lungs.
We have to give him TPA.
Similar to snake venom - TPA breaks down clots.
The down side is it may cause life-threatening bleeding.

But we have to do something.

So we snake a small tube from his leg veins
up to his heart and into his lungs.
and we drip in
TPA
all night long.

I have to go home
to sleep.

While I'm gone they see signs
of possible bleeding
into the brain
and rush him to a CT scan
of the head.

Normal, thank God!

The next morning, Tom still in the ICU,
monitors and nurses
watching
constantly
for any problems.

And Tom's knee,  (he broke it, remember?)
is swelling and swelling
and the pain is increasing
by the hour.

I'm in the hallway,
talking to
a friend
when his doctor
walks by.

How is Tom?
he asks.
and I mention the knee pain.

He could be bleeding into that knee! says the doc.
We need to stop the TPA!

He should get 24 hours,
but we stop it
at 21.

Take Tom to X-ray again.
Take out the TPA tube
and insert a filter -
a little wire umbrella without the canopy -
into his IVC
the large vein in his belly
that drains all the blood from his legs.

If a clot tries to wander
up to his heart/lungs
the tiny umbrelloid frame
will catch them.

I can breathe again.

We can surgerize the knee.

He'll have a long recovery.
measured by months,
not days.





But
he'll
live!


















and
he'll cook
again....








and
golf
again...





and
return
to the
Kitty....


that
he
loves.














3 comments:

  1. Oh, wow. I can only imagine how terrifying this was, and if I were you I'd have been bawling my eyes out as I wrote this...because I was almost in tears as I read it.

    Best of luck to Tom for a good recovery!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Kitty needs his father back...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Kate - yeah. Every time I close my eyes I relive these moments. I keep thinking about those what-ifs....


    and KC - Tom will be home to his Kitty soon.

    ReplyDelete