February 16, 12
At 08:10 this morning Rich called to let me know they want me there by 09:30 for discharge. I walked into his room at 09:15. It was empty. Except for the three food trays that were sitting on the floor. Yet again I went in search of my husband. Blah, blah, blah, encounters too trivial to relate… I’m wandering once again through the halls of Dr God, because I’ve been told he was taken back to radiology.
I see a familiar face who explains they’ve been paging me overhead.
“Well I’ve been in my car for the past forty minutes with my cell phone on….”
She’s ushering me to Rich and telling me “Dr __________ wants to talk to you..”
“Welll. I don’t want to talk to him.”
“No. He really needs to speak with you.”
“Well. I really don’t need to speak to him.”
Ant then we reach Rich, and she slips away saying, “Dr _________ will be right in to speak with you.”
Well. That’s just NOT going to be pretty.
I try to focus on Rich. Laying on a gurney in the exact spot he was in yesterday waiting to go for pellets. Here’s what he had to say:
“I had just hung up the phone with you, started to get dressed and suddenly people appear and announce I’m going back to radiology and another scan and then they drained another 800cc and oh yeah…. They’ll have to do the pellets again.”
I now believe that I am one of those rare few individuals who cannot faint. No matter how desperately the occasion may demand it. This was a a new awareness that I was pissed to receive.
While I may not faint, I must give off some kind of energy, chemicals or psychic resonance because suddenly I had RNs wheeling in a recliner and offering me coffee while I stand at his side, my knuckles white-gripping the rail and I can barely seethe a thank you, no thank you and some part of my brain registers that tears are flowing down my cheeks, Another brain cell registers how much it sucks to lack the necessary DNA to faint.
Some few minutes passed as I tried to process. Then, ta-da, announcing Dr ____________. I can recall that conversation word for word. He was standing to my right, Rich on my left. I focused on my grip on the siderail of the gurney and the shadows in a happenstance fold of sheet just above the insertion in Rich’s groin.
I will spare you the details, but I have Rich and two nurses present as my witnesses of the interaction.
Dr M. had been given to understand that I was upset. If one more person suggests that I’m upset, I may just jump ugly and show them how far beyond upset I truly am.
Then He tells me about the wonderful job they’ve done, and how much effort and blah, blah, blah, and Rich told me later that it was like watching a man slide down a muddy slope. I did not look at Dr M. I did not acknowledge his existence.
As his bravado slipped into explaining which moved towards groveling, I took pity. Without looking at him, I explained what all of you already know. In a calm, clear, steady voice, with tears rolling down my cheeks I highlighted the past week, summing it up with, “I understand you’re busy and important. I understand what it’s like to deal with all manner of patients and their families. I know that I have been three years in this fight, and I’ve been respectful, obedient and trusting, and I have earned the right to be completely, fully and respectfully informed.”
Rich talked about this encounter most of the way home. He could not fully comprehend what he had seen. He said he’s never seen a man that jarred.
Then I dismissed him with assurances that I was exceptionally grateful for his magnificent work and I would be sure not to trouble him in future.
He tried to regain some ground with discharge instructions. Pah-Lease. I assured him that if there were any problems I would be calling one of his doctors and rest assured, Dr M…. you will not be troubled.
As for the “next pellet placement”. I’ll address that later. Just one more incident of failure to disclose. Fucking sons of bitches.
I will now point out that there was an urgency to get things moving. Insurance requires he be discharged within 23 hours. He was admitted at 09:00 on Wednesday. It is now 11:00 am Thursday.
Discharge consisted of me getting him dressed and changing out his IV. Then we got up and walked out. Because if transportation had been called, discharge would have been time stamped. We were asked not to stop at the lobby desk, because that’s where they scan the patient ID wrist bands. And that is time stamped. And Dr M had impressed upon me in our little Come to Jesus Meeting that the hospital would take a huge hit if he was not discharged within 23 hours, and given all they had done for Rich…….
And Lord knows how deeply committed I am to whatever they need.
Just before discharge the endo doctor came to see us. She had been waiting for the nurse to call and let her know that we were ready to see her (!!!)
We talked. Like comrades who’ve survived another battle and marvel, yet plan for what may come. She asked Rich’s permission to write and deliver a paper on his case. Of course Rich agreed, just a little disappointed that she won’t be using his name. “Use my name!, Give them my phone number! If you can help someone else, I want to help too.”
When it was time to leave, she hugged first.
At the risk of lawsuits, I proudly state the following.
Rich has four doctors. Dr McGee, Dr Awender, Dr Ciltea and Dr Peiffer. (Jury not in on Dr Lowe). The rest of the bastards are just anatomical mechanics, and quite honestly, my car mechanic is far more impressive and I don’t have to protect myself from the glare of his ego.
Driving home Rich was so touched by Dr Ciltea’s wanting to write a paper on him. He talked about how much all of this might help someone else. Then he joked, “I’ll be famous, pupshn.”
I reminded him that she won’t be using any names.
He grinned. “Then I’ll just be famous in my own mind.”
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