C-Rex jumped off the couch at daycare. The sitter was just across the room cleaning up from lunch, and CR and another boy were both standing on the couch. She told them they needed to sit down or get off, and they both jumped off the couch. CR hit the floor hard - but on his feet, gave a yell and started screaming. She called me right away, (I could hear him screaming in the background) and I told her to watch it for a while and call me if he were still crying in 30min. She called back 15min later and said she thought it was getting worse and asked if I would be OK with her giving him some Tylenol. I said yes.
So I cut my errands short and hurried back to get him. She had finally calmed him down a bit, but he of course started crying again as soon as he saw me. We got him to the doctor, but while we were sitting and waiting I was looking at his foot and ankle - wiggling them around - and nothing seemed swollen or discolored. Nothing looked wrong, but when I put him on the floor he curled his left foot under his bum and cried out, "my feep! my feep!" The doctor came in and asked me to take off his pants so he could look at his whole leg. He took both legs and bent them up and down, stating, "his hips are OK, and his knees. His thighbone is good. His ankle and toes and all of the bones in his feet" (this as he carefully fingered each bone in turn). Then he took the boy's calf in his hands - firmly but gently - and CR flipped out, screaming, "Hey! TOP IT! TOP IT! Owie! My feep!!"
The doctor said he was pretty sure it was broken and sent us to the hospital for an x-ray. At the hospital the admissions girl was surly and rude. She couldn't find the order for the x-ray and kept us sitting there for 20min. Finally she got everything she needed and sent us over to radiology. They took the films - C-Rex hated it b/c he had to hold his leg out straight and not move. Plus he was not digging the little lead apron they wanted to cover his boy bits with. I had to hold him down for the pictures, but we got through it. Then we waited for the films to be read and for further instructions from the doctor. The word finally comes down that, yes, he has a broken leg. In fact, he has *two* broken bones. The verdict is "non-displaced buckle fracture of the tibia and the fibula."
All this time the boy's mood is surprisingly upbeat considering the fact that he has two broken bones and has not had a nap.
Finally we went back to the doctor's office where we waited another million years and finally ended up with a blue cast that goes from his mid-thigh down to his toes. The casting process was the worst part of the day. He had to be held down by two people (me and a medical student) while the nurse and the doctor wrapped his leg in the casting material. He screamed and tried to thrash and kick, and we were holding him down! It seemed like it was never going to end!
Of course, it did, but that only left me with a very unhappy boy with a massive new weight holding him down. He wanted it OFF and tried and tried and TRIED, crying "pease! pease! I need on!" (He doesn't get the difference between off and on all that well).
He's sleeping now, but I don't know what kind of a night I've got ahead of me. By the end of the day he was crawling around well enough, but he's still pretty ticked that he can't stand up. He's got to have the cast on for at least four and a half weeks, and I can't bathe him in the meantime. I guess he'll be a bit ripe for the next month or so.
So that's my saga. Honestly, I'm surprised it took him this long to end up at the hospital, as I've been expecting it for the last year or so - ever since he became mobile, really. I thought it would be a cracked open skull, but a broken bone is just as good.
I'm exhausted - it's been a LONG, crazy day.
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Friday, November 14, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
How to Get Attention FAST in the ER
Tell them you have chest pain.
I woke up yesterday morning with flu-like symptoms and a searing pain deep in my chest. I couldn't catch my breath because each attempt to fill my lungs brought on a sharp pain and a coughing fit. Needless to say, I was rather alarmed. Especially when I called the urgent care clinic and was told not to come in but rather to go directly to the ER.
So we left the kiddos with grandma and grandpa, and off we went. Most people probably know what it's like to visit an emergency room. You sign in and are seen by the triage nurse only to wait around for ages to be seen by a doctor. This was not that kind of visit. I was seen at triage and immediately taken to a bed. Within minutes the nurse intern and her supervising RN had been in to see me and take my vital signs, and *while I was changing into the gown* the doctor knocked on the door. It had been about fifteen minutes since I had arrived at the ER.
The doctor did a physical exam and ordered all sorts of labs and tests. The nurses came back and inserted an IV. No one had told me she was an intern, but when she inserted the IV and started saying things like, "where did it go?" I sort of figured it out. They drew blood and hooked me up to a bag of fluid. Apparently someone had decided I needed fluids because my blood pressure was hovering around 85/55. Had anyone bothered to ask, I could have told them that is *normal* for me. But whatever.
Then for added fun and excitement, a phlebotomist came in and stuck me again for an arterial blood gas, or ABG. This is a super-fun procedure, in which the tech has to stick a needle into an artery that he cannot see. No, this one is done all by feel. I was very nervous about this one, but the tech was a pro, and he stuck the artery on the first go. I also had an EKG and later a chest x-ray. At one point there were four or five nurses and techs in my room at once, and I felt like a patient on House.
A couple of hours passed. Things were moving quickly, and the nurses came frequently to check on me - mainly because the automatic monitoring machine kept sounding an alarm every time it took my blood pressure. Those things are picky about what is an acceptable reading, and mine was certainly not acceptable. Finally, around 2:45 the doctor came in and told me the labs all looked good, and that the chest x-ray had shown some bronchitis and pleurisy. Wonderful, I've got an old lady disease. He said he'd put me on an antibiotic and prescribe something for the pain. Then he left, and we were preparing to be discharged. We had been in the ER for about three hours; it was the quickest visit ever.
But then he came back.
The last lab, he said, had been positive for an indicator sometimes associated with pulmonary embolisms. I may have a blood clot in my lungs. So, instead of letting me go, he has ordered a CT scan. The nurse - the supervising RN, not the intern - came back and told me that for the CT scan they needed to have my IV in the crease of my elbow so, he's very sorry, but they're going to have to stick me again. That being done, the radiologist came in and unhooked me from all the wires and gadgetry. Then he took me for a ride.
Riding through a hospital while laying on a bed and staring at the ceiling is pretty disconcerting. The radiologist was moving quickly - at least it felt like it to me - and hubs couldn't keep up, so I didn't even have him to look at. We turned a dozen corners and went through several doorways before coming to the CT room. The radiologist helped me from the hospital bed to the CT bed and told me how the test would go. He said that when the x-ray dye went into my veins I'd feel warm inside, there would be a metallic taste in my mouth, and I'd feel like I was peeing my pants. If he hadn't said anything I would have been convinced there would be a puddle when I got up - that's how real the sensation was.
When the CT was over, we went back to the room to wait again. This time the doctor came back with good news. My lungs were clear - no blood clot. I would be discharged with a diagnosis of acute bronchitis with pleurisy. The nurse should be in soon. Sure enough, the nurse came back and started taking me off the monitor. I asked if I could change out of the hospital gown but then remembered I still had the IV; they were giving me fluid again because my pressure was still not in their happy place. He told me that I knew myself, and that if I wanted the IV out, all I had to do was tell him I wanted it out, and he'd take it out. I had him take it out.
It was about 4:00 when I was finally discharged. We had been in the ER a total of just under five hours. I had been hooked up to more medical machinery than ever before in my life, and I'll be surprised if the bill comes back less than five grand.
I'm supremely grateful for insurance.
I woke up yesterday morning with flu-like symptoms and a searing pain deep in my chest. I couldn't catch my breath because each attempt to fill my lungs brought on a sharp pain and a coughing fit. Needless to say, I was rather alarmed. Especially when I called the urgent care clinic and was told not to come in but rather to go directly to the ER.
So we left the kiddos with grandma and grandpa, and off we went. Most people probably know what it's like to visit an emergency room. You sign in and are seen by the triage nurse only to wait around for ages to be seen by a doctor. This was not that kind of visit. I was seen at triage and immediately taken to a bed. Within minutes the nurse intern and her supervising RN had been in to see me and take my vital signs, and *while I was changing into the gown* the doctor knocked on the door. It had been about fifteen minutes since I had arrived at the ER.
The doctor did a physical exam and ordered all sorts of labs and tests. The nurses came back and inserted an IV. No one had told me she was an intern, but when she inserted the IV and started saying things like, "where did it go?" I sort of figured it out. They drew blood and hooked me up to a bag of fluid. Apparently someone had decided I needed fluids because my blood pressure was hovering around 85/55. Had anyone bothered to ask, I could have told them that is *normal* for me. But whatever.
Then for added fun and excitement, a phlebotomist came in and stuck me again for an arterial blood gas, or ABG. This is a super-fun procedure, in which the tech has to stick a needle into an artery that he cannot see. No, this one is done all by feel. I was very nervous about this one, but the tech was a pro, and he stuck the artery on the first go. I also had an EKG and later a chest x-ray. At one point there were four or five nurses and techs in my room at once, and I felt like a patient on House.
A couple of hours passed. Things were moving quickly, and the nurses came frequently to check on me - mainly because the automatic monitoring machine kept sounding an alarm every time it took my blood pressure. Those things are picky about what is an acceptable reading, and mine was certainly not acceptable. Finally, around 2:45 the doctor came in and told me the labs all looked good, and that the chest x-ray had shown some bronchitis and pleurisy. Wonderful, I've got an old lady disease. He said he'd put me on an antibiotic and prescribe something for the pain. Then he left, and we were preparing to be discharged. We had been in the ER for about three hours; it was the quickest visit ever.
But then he came back.
The last lab, he said, had been positive for an indicator sometimes associated with pulmonary embolisms. I may have a blood clot in my lungs. So, instead of letting me go, he has ordered a CT scan. The nurse - the supervising RN, not the intern - came back and told me that for the CT scan they needed to have my IV in the crease of my elbow so, he's very sorry, but they're going to have to stick me again. That being done, the radiologist came in and unhooked me from all the wires and gadgetry. Then he took me for a ride.
Riding through a hospital while laying on a bed and staring at the ceiling is pretty disconcerting. The radiologist was moving quickly - at least it felt like it to me - and hubs couldn't keep up, so I didn't even have him to look at. We turned a dozen corners and went through several doorways before coming to the CT room. The radiologist helped me from the hospital bed to the CT bed and told me how the test would go. He said that when the x-ray dye went into my veins I'd feel warm inside, there would be a metallic taste in my mouth, and I'd feel like I was peeing my pants. If he hadn't said anything I would have been convinced there would be a puddle when I got up - that's how real the sensation was.
When the CT was over, we went back to the room to wait again. This time the doctor came back with good news. My lungs were clear - no blood clot. I would be discharged with a diagnosis of acute bronchitis with pleurisy. The nurse should be in soon. Sure enough, the nurse came back and started taking me off the monitor. I asked if I could change out of the hospital gown but then remembered I still had the IV; they were giving me fluid again because my pressure was still not in their happy place. He told me that I knew myself, and that if I wanted the IV out, all I had to do was tell him I wanted it out, and he'd take it out. I had him take it out.
It was about 4:00 when I was finally discharged. We had been in the ER a total of just under five hours. I had been hooked up to more medical machinery than ever before in my life, and I'll be surprised if the bill comes back less than five grand.
I'm supremely grateful for insurance.
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