So Many Visions Lurking at the Hospital
Sheila's mom went for her daily three mile walk on Wednesday morning but started having chest pains when she was close to the farthest point from the house. With no cellphone in hand, she took a short break to try to catch her breath and in the hope the pain would dissipate but then decided to push forward still feeling pain, tightness and pressure in her chest. She eventually made it home only to collapse in bed in pain. When there was no change to her condition after a few short minutes, Sheila's dad quickly decided to call for the EMT's.
She spent the day and half the night at our local hospital, still with significant chest pain, until being transferred to the more suitably equipped hospital in Burlington in the middle of the night. She was immediately admitted to the ICU and scheduled for exploratory surgery in the morning.
By morning, her chest pain had subsided considerably but all tests were indicating she had experienced quite a prolonged heart attack due to significant blockage. The exploratory surgery would give more answers.
So, here we were... 10 of us gathered quickly from all directions of New England... squeezed into a small ICU room long before visiting hours even started. It is nice to see everyone but hanging out at a hospital isn't the type of gathering anyone really finds particularly enjoyable. Of course none of us were complaining because, after all, we weren't the ones struggling with all the chest pain and facing heart surgery.
After being bumped by a patient whose heart had stopped, Sue was finally in the operating room at noon. The 10 of us visiting Sue were moved to a waiting room closer to the OR. We looked like a long parade through the hospital halls with Sue and her hospital bed leading the way. When we arrived at our new waiting room, we each wished Sue luck before they wheeled her to the OR and we settled into our room for what we knew would be a fairly long wait.
I knew this time in this waiting room was the time for me to try to catch a little sleep. At this point, my Systemic Mastocytosis fatigue was taking control of my body... mostly my eyes though... I just couldn't keep them open any longer! I managed to recharge a little with little cat-naps while we were all waiting in this waiting room.
Unfortunately, I suppose, this waiting room is too familiar to all of us. This hospital is far too familiar to both Sheila and me due to our illnesses. Familiarity affected everyone for many reasons and some of these reasons were voiced in stories of the past. Needless to say, hospital visits always spark many memories...
Sheila's nephew, the youngest in our group was asking about his experiences... his birth in this hospital. This brought on visions and quick conversations of other births in many hospitals across the country across our lifetimes.
Something would always bring us back to the present and Sue's condition. We were reliving previous heart surgeries for Sheila's mom while we all gathered in the same exact room as during those first heart surgeries. Eventually, we couldn't help but think about our own hospital visits to this same hospital as well as others. I know I was thinking about visiting my own family and friends at many hospitals over the past five decades.
I was thinking about the week or so spent at my mom's bedside until her passing due to cancer five years ago. Since this particular day with Sheila's mom was September 11th, I was thinking of my own experiences on September 11, 2001 while I was in a different hospital itching to be released like a caged animal and wondering how many of my friends and family were involved in the infamous terrorist attacks which make the date known even without indicating the year. I was thinking about an extended stay of my own a few decades ago, far away, when I awoke shivering and shaking, freezing cold, to find the Chaplain at the foot of my bed administering my Last Rites. I was remembering my own ambulance rides and ER visits, far too many to count, since being stricken with Systemic Mastocytosis.
As I watched and listened to this waiting room full of Sheila's family, while my own memories replayed before my eyes, I saw a stark contrast. I remembered how I rarely had anyone waiting for me or visiting me during my hospital stays simply due to single life and a military career far from home in a career field which required me to operate alone contrasting wildly to the overflowing waiting room for Sue's surgery.
This stark, cold contrast brought me back to that Chaplain at the foot of my bed in a big empty, sterile and stark room, administering my Last Rites... I remember all the physical pain I felt in that big empty isolation room... and I remember the nurse who wouldn't leave my side for what seemed like days... the vision of this nurse at my bedside, covered in scrubs and a mask, only able to remember her by her deep blue, tearful eyes sorrowfully looking down upon me... touching my left arm, holding my hand... and I vividly remembered my line of sight scanning from this caring nurse with the blue eyes at my side to the foot of my bed and that Chaplain holding a bible in one hand and a rosary in the other...
I remembered many of my own grueling recoveries in hospitals... finding life in me again, learning to get around independently, learning to simply walk as best as possible after extensive spinal injuries... I remembered times when medical professionals truly touched and helped me and I also remembered times when some medical professionals who were callous and negligent sparking a fight from me and a flurry of activity from hospital security... I remembered visiting many friends in hospitals across the country... I wondered how many times we can effectively recover from these traumas... and I wondered which is the first to tire and cease recovering... the heart, the body or the soul.
I wondered how quickly Sheila's mom would recover from this latest trauma to her heart... and, I couldn't help but then wonder about a far-away, thin possibility for a recovery from my own struggles with Systemic Mastocytosis. I again wondered about effective recovery of the heart, the body and the soul after any trauma or illness.
I had visions of ghosts of all these people, times past and traumatic experiences all mixed in and intertwined among us in this one waiting room. Listening to the conversations around me, it was apparent we were all experiencing and envisioning similar things.
After a few hours of cat-naps, visions, memories and conversations, we noticed a familiar hospital bed being wheeled toward the waiting room windows and then stopped at the doorway... there was Sheila's mom with a smile on her face, looking in on all of us as we waited for news of her condition. Everyone said their hellos again before they wheeled Sue off toward the elevators to the ICU. We gathered there in the hallway with the surgeon to hear how everything went...
She suffered a long-event heart attack due to blockage... 100% blockage in one area, medicated stent inserted... 80% blockage in another area, medicated stent inserted... other areas blocked at 50%, more or less, which will need to be addressed with medications... inserting the stents proved "uncomfortable" (which, I"m sure, means "painful") because of the condition of the blood vessels and the results of heart disease... and then more about follow-up and recovery.
A couple of hours later, Sue's first post-operative meal arrived... bruschetta... pork medallions with mashed potatoes... and ginger ale (which incidentally prompted me to make a similar lunch for myself today). It was now time for the rest of us to seek out food on our routes homeward and we left Sue and Will alone for the night for some quiet time and much-needed rest.
I was craving some serious protein in the form of a grilled steak so Sheila and I stopped at The Longhorn Steakhouse on our way home. We then picked up some cannolis to eat when we arrived home.
As of this writing, Sue should be home, recovering, and I'm sure she is relieved to be home and in need of some serious rest. We are all looking forward to her being on her feet again and tiring us out! I suspect it won't be long before she is out walking every morning too.
I think these visions lurking at the hospital help us get through some rough times. It is sort of like "if I can get through all of that, then I can get through this". In a basic form, I suppose it is a defense mechanism. Looking deeper, it is something human involving emotion.
I can't help but wonder what visions were lurking at the hospital for Sue. Something tells me that at least some of her visions were of her family crowded into that small ICU room for hours before her surgery and then crowding out other families in the OR waiting room... and I am sure that just as with the rest of us, there were many more visions.
There are always so many visions lurking at the hospital... visions of ghosts of people, times past and traumatic experiences all mixed in and intertwined among those of us physically present. Inarguably, events at hospitals evoke emotions and visions from our hearts, minds and souls... this September 11th was no different and we are all thankful for a positive outcome.
She spent the day and half the night at our local hospital, still with significant chest pain, until being transferred to the more suitably equipped hospital in Burlington in the middle of the night. She was immediately admitted to the ICU and scheduled for exploratory surgery in the morning.
By morning, her chest pain had subsided considerably but all tests were indicating she had experienced quite a prolonged heart attack due to significant blockage. The exploratory surgery would give more answers.
 |
| In the ICU waiting room after the heart surgery looking toward Lake Champlain and the Adirondack Mountains... |
After being bumped by a patient whose heart had stopped, Sue was finally in the operating room at noon. The 10 of us visiting Sue were moved to a waiting room closer to the OR. We looked like a long parade through the hospital halls with Sue and her hospital bed leading the way. When we arrived at our new waiting room, we each wished Sue luck before they wheeled her to the OR and we settled into our room for what we knew would be a fairly long wait.
I knew this time in this waiting room was the time for me to try to catch a little sleep. At this point, my Systemic Mastocytosis fatigue was taking control of my body... mostly my eyes though... I just couldn't keep them open any longer! I managed to recharge a little with little cat-naps while we were all waiting in this waiting room.
Unfortunately, I suppose, this waiting room is too familiar to all of us. This hospital is far too familiar to both Sheila and me due to our illnesses. Familiarity affected everyone for many reasons and some of these reasons were voiced in stories of the past. Needless to say, hospital visits always spark many memories...
Sheila's nephew, the youngest in our group was asking about his experiences... his birth in this hospital. This brought on visions and quick conversations of other births in many hospitals across the country across our lifetimes.
 |
| The hospital lobby... |
I was thinking about the week or so spent at my mom's bedside until her passing due to cancer five years ago. Since this particular day with Sheila's mom was September 11th, I was thinking of my own experiences on September 11, 2001 while I was in a different hospital itching to be released like a caged animal and wondering how many of my friends and family were involved in the infamous terrorist attacks which make the date known even without indicating the year. I was thinking about an extended stay of my own a few decades ago, far away, when I awoke shivering and shaking, freezing cold, to find the Chaplain at the foot of my bed administering my Last Rites. I was remembering my own ambulance rides and ER visits, far too many to count, since being stricken with Systemic Mastocytosis.
As I watched and listened to this waiting room full of Sheila's family, while my own memories replayed before my eyes, I saw a stark contrast. I remembered how I rarely had anyone waiting for me or visiting me during my hospital stays simply due to single life and a military career far from home in a career field which required me to operate alone contrasting wildly to the overflowing waiting room for Sue's surgery.
This stark, cold contrast brought me back to that Chaplain at the foot of my bed in a big empty, sterile and stark room, administering my Last Rites... I remember all the physical pain I felt in that big empty isolation room... and I remember the nurse who wouldn't leave my side for what seemed like days... the vision of this nurse at my bedside, covered in scrubs and a mask, only able to remember her by her deep blue, tearful eyes sorrowfully looking down upon me... touching my left arm, holding my hand... and I vividly remembered my line of sight scanning from this caring nurse with the blue eyes at my side to the foot of my bed and that Chaplain holding a bible in one hand and a rosary in the other...
I remembered many of my own grueling recoveries in hospitals... finding life in me again, learning to get around independently, learning to simply walk as best as possible after extensive spinal injuries... I remembered times when medical professionals truly touched and helped me and I also remembered times when some medical professionals who were callous and negligent sparking a fight from me and a flurry of activity from hospital security... I remembered visiting many friends in hospitals across the country... I wondered how many times we can effectively recover from these traumas... and I wondered which is the first to tire and cease recovering... the heart, the body or the soul.
I wondered how quickly Sheila's mom would recover from this latest trauma to her heart... and, I couldn't help but then wonder about a far-away, thin possibility for a recovery from my own struggles with Systemic Mastocytosis. I again wondered about effective recovery of the heart, the body and the soul after any trauma or illness.
I had visions of ghosts of all these people, times past and traumatic experiences all mixed in and intertwined among us in this one waiting room. Listening to the conversations around me, it was apparent we were all experiencing and envisioning similar things.
 |
| View from the ICU waiting room looking toward Lake Champlain and the Adirondack Mountains... |
She suffered a long-event heart attack due to blockage... 100% blockage in one area, medicated stent inserted... 80% blockage in another area, medicated stent inserted... other areas blocked at 50%, more or less, which will need to be addressed with medications... inserting the stents proved "uncomfortable" (which, I"m sure, means "painful") because of the condition of the blood vessels and the results of heart disease... and then more about follow-up and recovery.
A couple of hours later, Sue's first post-operative meal arrived... bruschetta... pork medallions with mashed potatoes... and ginger ale (which incidentally prompted me to make a similar lunch for myself today). It was now time for the rest of us to seek out food on our routes homeward and we left Sue and Will alone for the night for some quiet time and much-needed rest.
I was craving some serious protein in the form of a grilled steak so Sheila and I stopped at The Longhorn Steakhouse on our way home. We then picked up some cannolis to eat when we arrived home.
As of this writing, Sue should be home, recovering, and I'm sure she is relieved to be home and in need of some serious rest. We are all looking forward to her being on her feet again and tiring us out! I suspect it won't be long before she is out walking every morning too.
I think these visions lurking at the hospital help us get through some rough times. It is sort of like "if I can get through all of that, then I can get through this". In a basic form, I suppose it is a defense mechanism. Looking deeper, it is something human involving emotion.
I can't help but wonder what visions were lurking at the hospital for Sue. Something tells me that at least some of her visions were of her family crowded into that small ICU room for hours before her surgery and then crowding out other families in the OR waiting room... and I am sure that just as with the rest of us, there were many more visions.
There are always so many visions lurking at the hospital... visions of ghosts of people, times past and traumatic experiences all mixed in and intertwined among those of us physically present. Inarguably, events at hospitals evoke emotions and visions from our hearts, minds and souls... this September 11th was no different and we are all thankful for a positive outcome.
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