Yet Another Trip To The Hospital... This Time By Ambulance
Sheila nudged me awake in the middle of the night last night... I thought she was waking me because I was having another violent nightmare again (which, unfortunately, happens too often)... and I immediately said to myself, "...wait a second... I wasn't having a nightmare."
I was thinking, "This must be serious..."
All she said was, "I need you to... " and I jumped up out of bed to see what was wrong.
She was about to vomit... she couldn't move... she couldn't focus her eyes as they darted violently back and forth... she wanted me to get a bucket. I ran for the bucket and a plastic bag while all sorts of first aid techniques were running through my head... and, as I wondered why this was happening.
She kept saying, "I can't move... I can't move... I think I'm going to be sick..." and she looked terrible. She was stiff yet she seemed to be only as flat as the contour of the bed and pillow as though she were a blanket.
She tried focusing on me but was unable to do so. She would try to move her eyes voluntarily, but seemed to only look off to one side. It was a look I hope I never have to see again and it definitely was pleading that I hope to never have to hear again. I've seen that look and heard that pleading far too much in my life and I especially do not want this coming from a loved one.
I made a decision within a few short moments and I asked her if she was okay with me calling 911. I then quickly laid out why I felt this was something that needed to be looked at by professionals. Yet, in my mind, I was wondering how in the world was she going to get out of the bed nevermind the house.
I called 911... spoke with the dispatcher... then spoke with the ambulance crew. They were on their way.
After they arrived and collected all the data necessary on her vital signs and our descriptions of the problems, they asked which hospital we would prefer. Sheila politely but very pointedly requested we head to the University of Vermont since that is where her Oncology team is located. The EMT said something along the lines of "I don't blame you" and now it was time to attempt to get Sheila out of the bed... out of the bedroom... through the living room... and then into a transport chair to move her the rest of the way outside where a gurney was waiting.
It was slow going and difficult but Sheila managed to get to the living room with the help of two EMTs. She sat in our upholstered side chair while they wheeled in the transport chair... they lifted her to the transport chair... strapped her in... wheeled her out to the deck... carried her and the chair down the three steps to the grass... then lifted her from the chair to the gurney.
As they made their way down the driveway to the ambulance, I quickly collected some things in the house and locked it up. You never seem to grab as much as you should have and this time was no exception. I forgot Sheila's eyeglasses and, after about eight hours, Sheila was wishing she had her tablet so she could read.
Fortunately, at this time of the night, there is absolutely no traffic. We made our way to Burlington very swiftly and quickly. I couldn't help but wonder how Sheila was faring through this ride considering how dizzy she was and how nauseated she was when we left the house. I've been in the back of an ambulance, many times, struggling with anaphylaxis, dizziness, and nausea so I know a ride like this at a time like this can be brutal by making these symptoms even worse.
As the EMTs were carrying Sheila's gurney down off the ambulance, I asked her how she was feeling. She seemed a little bit more stable and stated such. They had administered an anti-nausea medication and she was feeling slightly less out-of-control.
The emergency room was quite quiet when we arrived and we had nurses and a doctor attending to her immediate needs and taking information.
For the next few hours, Sheila's condition ever so slowly improved to tolerable levels. Walking was still out of the question but she was able to focus on things and control her eyes at least a little bit. The anti-nausea medication helped alleviate most of the nausea and now hunger was beginning to develop.
At this point, we were able to quietly discuss, between the two of us, some of our own thoughts about the cause of this instantaneous loss of control. At this point, Sheila was still a little embarrassed about calling an ambulance until I described some of what I saw in her. I also explained that there are many things that could be the cause of what I was seeing in her... and some of those possibilities frightened me and they were beyond what I could manage on my own. It wasn't long after that the doctor came to examine Sheila and discuss her thoughts with us.
On the positive side, by now, Sheila was feeling and acting close to normal. She was still a bit dizzy... still a bit nauseated... but she now had full control of her motor skills... that was tremendous news. The doctor explained that one of the possible causes could be that her breast cancer which had already spread to her lymph nodes might have spread farther to her brain. So that was a concern of the doctor... and it was a concern of my own as I watched Sheila struggle in our bed a few hours earlier.
This discussion with the doctor, for me, was a bit surreal and even a bit overwhelming as it brought me back to being led to that very comfortable meeting room in Oncology last August to be gently told that Sheila has cancer again and that it was time for Sheila to start her treatment all over again. We knew this news was coming the moment they put us in this comfortable room but it still plays out in my head in slow motion at times like now. I think the reality of cancer being a possible cause overwhelmed Sheila because, at this point, her blood pressure sky-rocketed.
The doctor explained that although she didn't think this was caused by cancer or anything else serious concerning her brain but that we should be absolutely certain so we could put everyone's minds at ease. She was moving Sheila to Imaging for an MRI of her brain.
We then discussed Sheila's claustrophobia... and her adverse reactions to various medications and anesthetics... and Sheila's history some more. By now, it was about 7am and time to wait for Sheila's turn for an MRI brain scan.
While I called Sheila's parents to break the news that we were again at the hospital as well as tell them the new developments in Sheila's health, Sheila contacted her children by text. And, we waited...
...and we waited...
Before long, Sheila's parents arrived so we now had a bit of a distraction from the stressful situation. At this point, our stomachs were beginning to bellow for food too. Truthfully, up until this point, I had also been a bit nauseated by the thoughts running through my head while trying to wrap my head around different scenarios. Now, I was hungry though and my stomach was letting me know. It was letting everyone nearby know with its grumbling.
After some more medications, IV fluids, and a few careful bathroom breaks, then it was Sheila's turn for the MRI. As they wheeled Sheila off to Imaging, Sheila's parents and I headed to the cafe for some much needed lunch. I purchased one lunch "for here" and one "to go" for Sheila to eat when she returned from her MRI.
Approximately 50 minutes later, Sheila was wheeled back to her room in the ER. As she ate her lunch, she explained that she had no problems with claustrophobia. Perhaps the anti-anxiety medications helped cut the edge off of her fear or perhaps it wasn't as tight as Sheila feared it would be. I've seen her in closed in spaces and she never fares well. She had no problem with this MRI though so that was good.
Within another hour, 12 hours after this all began, the next doctor arrived to tell us that the MRI shows no signs of metastatic activity. The doctor was visibly excited and clearly relieved by this good news. It was at this point that we realized where everyone's fears had been directed, even the doctors. We were all quite relieved to hear this news though.
Some possible causes of this intense vertigo-induced motor skill loss were discussed before Sheila was released. She has a followup in a week with her primary care doctor and we are awaiting a telephone call from her Oncology team. Unfortunately, it is possible that this frightening episode was caused by her newest cancer treatment plan. While we wait for the Oncology team's thoughts, her cancer treatment is on hold.
We are, however, quite relieved that this wildly frightening episode was not caused by cancer which had somehow managed to spread to her brain. We don't need that! We don't want that!
As Sheila's parents and I quietly ate our lunches in the cafe probably immersed in similar thoughts, I weakly and with a lot of fatigue stated, "coming to this hospital is getting old".
Sue replied, "amen to that!"
I was thinking, "This must be serious..."
All she said was, "I need you to... " and I jumped up out of bed to see what was wrong.
She was about to vomit... she couldn't move... she couldn't focus her eyes as they darted violently back and forth... she wanted me to get a bucket. I ran for the bucket and a plastic bag while all sorts of first aid techniques were running through my head... and, as I wondered why this was happening.
She kept saying, "I can't move... I can't move... I think I'm going to be sick..." and she looked terrible. She was stiff yet she seemed to be only as flat as the contour of the bed and pillow as though she were a blanket.
She tried focusing on me but was unable to do so. She would try to move her eyes voluntarily, but seemed to only look off to one side. It was a look I hope I never have to see again and it definitely was pleading that I hope to never have to hear again. I've seen that look and heard that pleading far too much in my life and I especially do not want this coming from a loved one.
I made a decision within a few short moments and I asked her if she was okay with me calling 911. I then quickly laid out why I felt this was something that needed to be looked at by professionals. Yet, in my mind, I was wondering how in the world was she going to get out of the bed nevermind the house.
I called 911... spoke with the dispatcher... then spoke with the ambulance crew. They were on their way.
After they arrived and collected all the data necessary on her vital signs and our descriptions of the problems, they asked which hospital we would prefer. Sheila politely but very pointedly requested we head to the University of Vermont since that is where her Oncology team is located. The EMT said something along the lines of "I don't blame you" and now it was time to attempt to get Sheila out of the bed... out of the bedroom... through the living room... and then into a transport chair to move her the rest of the way outside where a gurney was waiting.
It was slow going and difficult but Sheila managed to get to the living room with the help of two EMTs. She sat in our upholstered side chair while they wheeled in the transport chair... they lifted her to the transport chair... strapped her in... wheeled her out to the deck... carried her and the chair down the three steps to the grass... then lifted her from the chair to the gurney.
As they made their way down the driveway to the ambulance, I quickly collected some things in the house and locked it up. You never seem to grab as much as you should have and this time was no exception. I forgot Sheila's eyeglasses and, after about eight hours, Sheila was wishing she had her tablet so she could read.
Fortunately, at this time of the night, there is absolutely no traffic. We made our way to Burlington very swiftly and quickly. I couldn't help but wonder how Sheila was faring through this ride considering how dizzy she was and how nauseated she was when we left the house. I've been in the back of an ambulance, many times, struggling with anaphylaxis, dizziness, and nausea so I know a ride like this at a time like this can be brutal by making these symptoms even worse.
As the EMTs were carrying Sheila's gurney down off the ambulance, I asked her how she was feeling. She seemed a little bit more stable and stated such. They had administered an anti-nausea medication and she was feeling slightly less out-of-control.
The emergency room was quite quiet when we arrived and we had nurses and a doctor attending to her immediate needs and taking information.
For the next few hours, Sheila's condition ever so slowly improved to tolerable levels. Walking was still out of the question but she was able to focus on things and control her eyes at least a little bit. The anti-nausea medication helped alleviate most of the nausea and now hunger was beginning to develop.
At this point, we were able to quietly discuss, between the two of us, some of our own thoughts about the cause of this instantaneous loss of control. At this point, Sheila was still a little embarrassed about calling an ambulance until I described some of what I saw in her. I also explained that there are many things that could be the cause of what I was seeing in her... and some of those possibilities frightened me and they were beyond what I could manage on my own. It wasn't long after that the doctor came to examine Sheila and discuss her thoughts with us.
On the positive side, by now, Sheila was feeling and acting close to normal. She was still a bit dizzy... still a bit nauseated... but she now had full control of her motor skills... that was tremendous news. The doctor explained that one of the possible causes could be that her breast cancer which had already spread to her lymph nodes might have spread farther to her brain. So that was a concern of the doctor... and it was a concern of my own as I watched Sheila struggle in our bed a few hours earlier.
This discussion with the doctor, for me, was a bit surreal and even a bit overwhelming as it brought me back to being led to that very comfortable meeting room in Oncology last August to be gently told that Sheila has cancer again and that it was time for Sheila to start her treatment all over again. We knew this news was coming the moment they put us in this comfortable room but it still plays out in my head in slow motion at times like now. I think the reality of cancer being a possible cause overwhelmed Sheila because, at this point, her blood pressure sky-rocketed.
The doctor explained that although she didn't think this was caused by cancer or anything else serious concerning her brain but that we should be absolutely certain so we could put everyone's minds at ease. She was moving Sheila to Imaging for an MRI of her brain.
We then discussed Sheila's claustrophobia... and her adverse reactions to various medications and anesthetics... and Sheila's history some more. By now, it was about 7am and time to wait for Sheila's turn for an MRI brain scan.
While I called Sheila's parents to break the news that we were again at the hospital as well as tell them the new developments in Sheila's health, Sheila contacted her children by text. And, we waited...
...and we waited...
Before long, Sheila's parents arrived so we now had a bit of a distraction from the stressful situation. At this point, our stomachs were beginning to bellow for food too. Truthfully, up until this point, I had also been a bit nauseated by the thoughts running through my head while trying to wrap my head around different scenarios. Now, I was hungry though and my stomach was letting me know. It was letting everyone nearby know with its grumbling.
After some more medications, IV fluids, and a few careful bathroom breaks, then it was Sheila's turn for the MRI. As they wheeled Sheila off to Imaging, Sheila's parents and I headed to the cafe for some much needed lunch. I purchased one lunch "for here" and one "to go" for Sheila to eat when she returned from her MRI.
Approximately 50 minutes later, Sheila was wheeled back to her room in the ER. As she ate her lunch, she explained that she had no problems with claustrophobia. Perhaps the anti-anxiety medications helped cut the edge off of her fear or perhaps it wasn't as tight as Sheila feared it would be. I've seen her in closed in spaces and she never fares well. She had no problem with this MRI though so that was good.
Within another hour, 12 hours after this all began, the next doctor arrived to tell us that the MRI shows no signs of metastatic activity. The doctor was visibly excited and clearly relieved by this good news. It was at this point that we realized where everyone's fears had been directed, even the doctors. We were all quite relieved to hear this news though.
Some possible causes of this intense vertigo-induced motor skill loss were discussed before Sheila was released. She has a followup in a week with her primary care doctor and we are awaiting a telephone call from her Oncology team. Unfortunately, it is possible that this frightening episode was caused by her newest cancer treatment plan. While we wait for the Oncology team's thoughts, her cancer treatment is on hold.
We are, however, quite relieved that this wildly frightening episode was not caused by cancer which had somehow managed to spread to her brain. We don't need that! We don't want that!
As Sheila's parents and I quietly ate our lunches in the cafe probably immersed in similar thoughts, I weakly and with a lot of fatigue stated, "coming to this hospital is getting old".
Sue replied, "amen to that!"
Patrick - Have read your entire blog. Wanted you to know that I am praying for Sheila and for you and your family. Please interpret this as a gesture of good will, whatever your religious beliefs may be.
ReplyDeleteCrew Dog
Thanks... it is appreciated.
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