Sept 7: LONG catching up (at least you were warned!)

Well, everything is off the fingers and typing is easy again. The middle finger still doesn't bend all the way, still a little swollen, but is coming along. Still some bruising around the knuckles.

This past Friday marked the last scheduled week of working 4-5 days a week. While my checking account is not going to like the reduction, the energy level should be higher. Although I've been very pleased with how things have gone. Not sure yet if the Tues am will work out, the new doc admits that the training to do what he wants would take at least a year and he wants some one ready now. We'll see.

Now that I'm feeling better there is a ton of stuff to be done which is necessary for the whole cleaning-out-the-garage goal. And it's going through things that no one can help me with. Currently I'm attacking some of the many boxes of my late aunt's stuff that I've been storing or crating around for the last 15 years. It's much easier to throw out other people's things. Hundreds of pictures, mostly unlabeled, and a huge number of slides. These are people and places that Barbie cared about, but they mean nothing to me. Of course that doesn't mean that they can just be thrown out, because I have stumbled on a few gems, in addition to some interesting papers and letters. But it's almost depressing that all these cherished memories mean nothing when that person is gone. Barbie did a lot of traveling, and it's neat to see pictures she took of places that I've gone to as well. Some of the shots are eerily similar. And obscene number of pictures of her dogs, which reminds me to cut down on the number of cat pictures I have!

In the good news/bad news department: my tenants have turned in their notice. This is good on a number of levels: the husband has the same last name as me, and while his wife usually uses her maiden name, her first name is Laurie. No kidding. Two Laurie Brooks in the same house. When I was moving, I made sure to put everything under my formal name, but there are still mistakes--obviously. The most recent was my coming home Thursday night and finding a card under my door from the County Sheriff's office telling me there was a civil suit filed against me. I was racking my brain, trying not to get too worried while not being able to not worry, kept calling the office Friday. Finally found out that it was for my tenant, not me. (Why the don't put names on those things is beyond me--really--no name.) But it means I can raise the rent and find someone who will help with yardwork and snow shoveling, which they wouldn't do (despite my offering to take money off the rent). But the bad news is that taxes are due, and I'm probably going to lose at least a month's rent plus have to make some upgrades.

OK, now for the story you've been waiting for.... Patient comes in for a stress test to be cleared for kyphoplasty (fixing spine breaks), major illness is that he's a dialysis patient. Walks in with his daughter, down the hall to the prep room and gets changed. Nuclear tech comes in to start the IV and give him the nuclear material. He puts the tourniquet on the patient's arm and the patient suddenly slumps over. So Tim, the nuc tech, says to the daughter "Does he do this a lot?", thinking maybe he's got dementia or something. The daughter says "No, never" and has to hold him up in the chair. Tim comes to the next room down where I've got a patient on the treadmill and says "Uh, Laurie, there's a situation in the next room that I think you should take a look at." Tim's big into understatement. He also took the time to close the door on his way out (!) and, as I open the door, I hear the unmistakable sound of air leaving the body of someone who isn't breathing. (If you don't know that sound it's almost impossible to explain.) I feel for a pulse, already knowing, and he doesn't have one. He just died, sitting in the chair about to get his IV. So we swing into action, get the patient up on the table (well, I couldn't do that part), I got him on the monitor and there it is: textbook coarse VFib. Doctor's doing compressions, get the defibrillator hooked up, shocked twice. Rhythm, no pulse. So I get the intubation equipment, almost unable to open the plastic wrap and wondering how in the hell I'm going to do this with my right hand splinted and sutured. Well, all those years of intubating in bathrooms came in handy, and down the trachea it went. After a little oxygen, suddenly there was a great pulse. Police were there by then, EMS a few minutes later. By the time he was on the stretcher he had a great BP. By the time he was in the ER he was awake. Straight into the cath lab to our outstanding interventionalist who found his right coronary artery blocked the entire length by a big, bad clot. He opened it up, got him up to CCU. There were some issues over the weekend, but he steadily improved. On Thursday after dialysis he went to a telemetry room, supposed to be discharged today or tomorrow. No brain damage. (Yeah!)

So, at least for a little while, I'm the Golden Girl. While those of you in EMS will see nothing remarkable about the intubation, it doesn't happen in medical offices. Only one of the docs I work for will even attempt it. When you're in the hospital, anesthesia comes and does it. So the cardiologist doesn't really have any need to keep up that skill. So they are just pleased as punch, and very proud of me. I'm sucking up the warm fuzzies for all they're worth! And, honestly, I really needed this. It's been hard to step back, to adjust to the mental changes and memory loss from the surgeries. And not running as a medic, or being in the hospital, has kept me from really feeling that my being there makes any difference. This time it did.

Being right there makes a huge difference in successfully reviving the patient. In 25 years in EMS, almost 20 as a paramedic, I only had four patients who I revived that walked out of the hospital. Lots I got back who died in the ER or ICU (which gives the family a chance to say goodbye), but after being without oxygen for the approximately 10 minutes that usually pass between the emergency being recognized, 911 called, EMS dispatched and arriving on location and then getting to the patient and starting treatment, there is little chance of a patient actually surviving, or not having major brain damage. (PLUG: This is why everyone should know CPR and where the AED is located in public places!!!) But I have a great save rate as a PA (5 out of 7) because everything and everyone is there within seconds.

And in the office, I could swear that there was a faint smile on the ghost-like face as it faded away, the scythe disappearing last.... (All right, a little overly dramatic!)

In other news: I tried putting KC in a kitty harnass and going outside and he did rather well. I've always wanted a cat that could be taken for walks! Mom's wrist is getting better and better. She's doing PT to strengthen and it's coming along nicely. Oh, I hit someone in the Camry; her fault. She made a right turn on red and then came into my lane as I was traveling in the direction of traffic on a green >> yellow light. Slammed on the brakes, impact < 10 mph, no airbags, just paint off the bumper. So it needs to go to the body shop for two accidents now. So much for getting a red car that would be seen better and hit less!

Oh, and did I tell you all that Katie's pregnant?!?!?! I actually put the news in my post after coming back from Ohio; we had gotten our signals crossed and I thought it was public. Fortunately, Katie is much better at blogging than me and went in and took it out, hopefully before anyone noticed. Due in February (I think!). Matt and I want a girl, Katie wants another boy (much easier with clothes, etc.) Suspense builds....

Well, that catches you up on everything. And it's time to get to bed before a busy Monday.

Thanks for checking, Laurie

P.S. Kevan: There hadn't been need for a tube in over four years, so you'd better have more than me!