image courtesy T. Hall on Flickr
Hubs is recuperating nicely. He gets a little bolder and stronger every day. Whenever he sees me watching him with a furrowed, unapproving brow (usually means I think he’s overdoing it), he sticks his tongue out at me like a little kid who’s getting away with trouble. *sigh*. I’ve been known to tell Bug to report back to me if he goes up and down the basement stairs when I’m gone running errands.
Yes. I’ve employed the children as snitches and I’m not ashamed of it.
But before I can tell you more about how we are now, I have to tell you about how it was right after the accident and that’s mostly the hospital experience.
I have a lot of history in hospitals. Having a pacemaker (oh you didn’t know?) I’ve spent my fair share and your fair share in them over the years. I know how things are supposed to go, I know what happens before and after surgery and I know how immediate family, especially those in charge of their loved ones care (as I was) are supposed to be treated and I can tell you matter of factly, that the hospital where hubs had his surgery is not the trauma center they claim to be.
The first person to meet me at the hospital was the chaplain. When my hubs was life flighted from one hospital (think MayBerry as far in terms of patient care. Don’t get real sick. They can’t help you) to another and I left him, he was fine and talking to me. So imagine my surprise when I was met by the chaplain. Sorry buddy but until they put a tag on hubs’s toe, you’re the last guy I want to see. Let’s start with someone who can tell me the extent of his injuries and what they’re going to do to him.
Anyway, I spent a lot of time in the ER waiting room just WAITING. And Tweeting. And not happy that I hadn’t been spoken to by a doctor or a nurse in the almost 5 hours he spent in the ER.
That’s right. ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE HOURS. Not a happy woman and considering I have to sign the consent to treat cause he can’t… you’d best be talking to me. But no one did until I got into the ER and started sticking my nose into things like, “why are you holding my husband’s leg up in the air? It’s broken and he’s screaming for you to put it down.”
Once he was taken back to the operating room I was left to die left to wait until the surgery was over in their “closed on weekends” surgery waiting room. Oh yes. It was closed. I could have streaked naked (I almost did) through the multi-room sized waiting space and no one would have been the wiser. I had to call to get an update on surgery and then call again 2 hours after I saw the surgeon who told me that everything went fabulously only to find out that he had JUST THEN been moved into recovery. Apparently he is hard to wake up. (Well, duh. I live with him & wake him up every day for work).
I was told by the surgery center that I could go upstairs to his room and wait for him. OK. Upstairs I went to the nurse’s station to let them know who I was and find hubs’s room. Guess what? He wasn’t going there. They decided to keep him in ICU that night since he was not responding to them as they would have liked (ie… they still could not wake him up).
That’s when I turned into a ROYAL B!#$*. Oh Yes. I did. I explained calmly to the nurses on the floor that I had been up for over 24 hours now and that I hadn’t seen or heard an update on my husband’s condition since I left him in the ER. I further told them that I knew they had a nursing supervisor on duty and I wanted to see her. NOW.
A short time later, I was reunited with my hubs who responded easily and well to my voice talking to him down in the recovery room. I was even told by the post-op surgery nurses that his responses after I came in the room was the MOST they had seen him move and try to wake up since he got there. YOU THINK? REALLY?
I was talked down to by the Anesthesiologist doctor who must have assumed I was stupid because he used little words and smirked at me through them. He told me about his conversation with my hubs before the surgery and asked him questions and got answers from him.
I said to him while resisting the urge to wipe the smirk from his face, “That’s fine but he wasn’t awake. I know he wasn’t awake because they had him doped up so much morphine in the ER that he was fading in and out while talking to me, plus I’ve been married to him for almost 14 years now and I’ve woken him up every day for work because bombs can go off around him and he won’t know it. Also he’s never had morphine before and he’s never had a broken bone before in his life or surgery. I signed those consent to treat papers which means you should have been talking to me about his medical history because you could have asked him if his name was Bozo the Clown and he would have told you Yes. Because he wasn’t awake and he won’t remember your conversation.”
I hated that doctor. Honestly. I’m not a fool and an idiot so don’t treat me like one.
I ended up having to speak to the nursing supervisor twice that night first down the recovery room and a second in ICU. I told her that her hospital had the poorest communication with family in the entire world. That their staff was condescending and rude and that I wouldn’t come to them for a paper cut let alone major trauma. She admitted that I should have been kept in the loop from the moment we arrived and been informed of changes in the treatment as well as spoken to about his medical history since he couldn’t give it on his own.
Aside from that, hubs and I agreed and still do agree that his surgeon was teh AWESOME and that the nurses he had in ICU and on the main floor were wonderful to him and very helpful. Now… if only they were in another hospital other than Akron General Hospital.
What? You didn’t think I would post all of that and NOT tell you where we were? Blah! Of course I am. I wouldn’t want a fellow Ohioan having an emergency on the weekend and expect to be treated with dignity and kindness when I know that doesn’t happen at Akron General.
Today:
Hubs is fine. As I said, he’s getting around. He begins physical therapy next week and he thinks he’s driving to it (HA!) He’s still working on regaining all of the function in his left hand from having stretched the nerve in his arm to kingdom come when he broke one bone and dislocated another and while he can put his weight on his leg, the muscle just isn’t there to lift his leg or move much otherwise.
He’s itching to get out of the house every chance he gets and if I had to choose between a sick kid and an injured husband, I’d take all four kids sick any day of the week. He’s resorted to calling me “grandmom” because apparently I follow him around incessantly and watch him constantly or check on him constantly… but I can’t help it. The image of his car and him on that night are pretty much stuck with me for awhile.
I’m working hard to give him some space and not crawl up his a$$ be all up in his business about recovering but I’ve never seen him hurt aside from “he’s getting old” types of aches and pains so this is new to me. Plus, being that I’m the oldest of five kids, the worry gene went to me first which makes total sense since I have a small army of my own now.
Our biggest worry now is the medical bills. We were a fairly healthy lot this year so of course there is a WHOLE LOT of deductible applying going on with our insurance. Hubs can’t go back to work because there is no light duty work and that’s all he’s been approved for. So we’re watching our Savings dwindle down to nothing while his short term disability makes my measly income as a freelance writer look like rockstar millionaire bucks. In short, we’re worried, we’re frugal and we’ve got 3 birthdays and Christmas approaching. Nuff said.
On the other hand, the sensible side of me knows I’m lucky he’s still here. I’m glad he’s harassing me by calling me old lady names and texting me from 2 rooms away to come help him put shoes on or get dressed instead of just YELLING NIIIIKKKKKIIIIII!!!!
Because as we all know, nothing says love and appreciation like a text that reads: “Can u hlp put my shoes on? thx”
Oh, girl! I am so glad he’s doing better, and sorry you had to go thru all of that!
Your hubs texting you made me laugh. My hubs does that when he’s under the weather… you know, perfectly capable of getting up for his own glass of water, but milking that sinus infection for all it’s worth…
Next time I’ll tell him his legs better be broken and his arm ligaments torn…
J/K!
[...] we arrived at Akron (remember how much I LOVED Akron last August?) Totally different scene this year. They were on top of it. From the time we got there – it [...]