The Governor of Ohio declared a state of emergency for the entire state on Sunday, Sept. 14. Two million people in Ohio were without power, and I was one of them. Today, Tuesday, Sept. 16, the number without power is under 500,000. Predictions are that it could take until Sunday for all power to be restored. Schools were closed yesterday and again today, either because the buildings don't have power or because roadways are still littered with tree limbs and downed power lines.
On Sunday starting around noon, winds that came from a mix of what used to be Hurricane Ike and the jet stream caused high wind warnings to be issued for Ohio. From noon until about 7:30 pm, there were steady winds of 30 to 40 mph, gusts of 75 mph, and then steady very high winds. By 3 pm, I lost power as well as a large limb from a beautiful 20-foot tall Bradford pear tree in my back yard. By 3:15, a bunch of my neighbors, who all heard the crack, were gathered in my back yard trying to help me figure out what to do about the tree. My back yard neighbor Todd, who helped me before when a small tree went down, got his chain saw and was starting to cut away the broken limb so that the wind wasn't pushing it against the main trunk when, suddenly, another third of the tree cracked and fell. Luckily, it fell away from where Todd was standing. He looked at me and we both said, "This tree has to go." He cut through the main trunk so that the rest of the tree fell into the yard away from the house and away from the power lines and phone lines at the back of the property. Then we started hearing more and more cracks in the area. I have the privilege of being the first in my neighborhood to have lost a tree on Sunday, but many more came down in the next hours.
On Monday, Todd and his friends showed up with a rented wood chipper and a truck from one of their businesses and more chain saws. First they took care of all his downed limbs and two gorgeous very tall pine trees that came down in his yard; then they cleared away all my limbs. And then they went off to help other people they knew. A "thank you" and "God bless you" (and chipping in--no pun intended--on the cost of the rented equipment) just isn't enough to show my gratitude.
While we were dragging my tree limbs to Todd's yard where the chipper was sitting, my neighbor Ann Morgan came out onto her deck and yelled "It's on!" It was 11:20 am. Having heard reports that it could take up to a week to restore all power, we were grateful to be among the first to get it back. All my frozen food was still frozen solid, and the refrigerator food still felt cool, so I fared well in that area. However, we had a little scare about 11:30 when we started smelling something burning outside. A small branch in one of the large trees bordering Todd's and Morgans' property line was smoking. The nearby power line must have ignited it when the surge went through as the power came on. Bill Morgan called the fire department, who said they didn't know when they could get here to check it out, so we were to just keep an eye on it and call 9-1-1 if flames appeared. One of the guys predicted that once it burned through, the branch would fall and all would be OK, and that's exactly what happened. Two fire department personnel did show up about 4 pm, and they asked me to keep an eye on it even though it appeared all was fine. I haven't smelled or seen any further problem.
I had been trying to call Debbie and Tom both Sunday and Monday to see if they had power and finally reached Tom at work Monday morning. After I got power back, we made arrangements for Debbie to bring their freezer food over. They are not among the lucky to get power back early. David called me Sunday night to check on me and confirm that he did not have power. Becky called me Monday morning to check on me; her power was restored at about 4:30 am Monday. I don't know the status of Judi or Eddie.
A lesson from this: If you have a land line, keep at least one corded phone available. As long as there is phone service, a corded phone will work but the cordless ones don't. I'm glad that I still have a separate land line and not service that is bundled in with my cable and internet (which I have been thinking about doing), and that I had 2 corded phones sitting in the basement. Although my WOWWAY cable service apparently was OK, Time Warner cable service was lost, so people who had bundled phone service with that company had no phones at all. My cell phone service went in and out until today, when it seems to be consistently operating. After this experience, I've removed those corded phones from my garage sale stack!
I checked the cemetery this morning and saw limbs everywhere; many of the huge trees there have broken limbs or split trunks. A few of the flags around the Veterans Memorial have disappeared. Surprisingly, the silk flowers and flag in the vase at Ed's grave were all intact.
One common comment in my neighborhood is that this damage and lack of power is nothing compared with the loss of life and suffering of the people of Texas and the Gulf Coast area because of Hurricane Ike.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Our 22nd Anniversary August 9
I've been telling myself all week that I would write in the blog on our anniversary, but not being able to get back to sleep since I awoke at 4 a.m. has me at the keyboard trying to comfort myself. Ed and I would be celebrating our 22nd wedding anniversary tomorrow. We knew each other for 5 years before we got married. He always told me that he knew very early on that we belonged together, but because of our age difference, he wanted me to be absolutely sure. When we had those talks, neither one of us ever thought he would be gone so soon. His parents lived to age 79. His dad had had a heart attack in middle age and his mom had heart problems as well, so we thought their circumstances were a predictor and that's why Ed saw a cardiologist every year. I suppose some would say that 20 years of married life (almost 21 years, just short of that by 2 months) is a long time, but I can't stop thinking that we weren't done yet. We still had so many plans, so many things he wanted us to do together.
Despite learning in my support group that significant days can bring back the intense grief, I didn't prepare myself for it to happen. I had a diversion last week, going to Melissa and Mark's from Wednesday to Sunday. I painted their kitchen, foyer, and hallway; we rode through the flood-devastated areas that are still a long way from recovering; we shopped; I enjoyed Will, of course. Even getting back home I found diversions by going to a downsizing workshop with a few friends, going to the weekly supper gathering, and helping a friend unpack at her new place. But each night for probably the last two weeks--even at Melissa's--I have awakened feeling just so sad and alone. Then I can't get back to sleep, which means I'm tired during the day and fall asleep in the afternoon, which then makes it difficult to get to sleep at bedtime. It's a vicious cycle. My friends have joked that we should set up some instant messaging alert so that when we are prowling the house at 3 a.m., we can signal that we're up and needing to talk. So I know I'm not the only one going through this.
I'm sure I'll get through tomorrow--and even get through today--because I have to and because I've gotten through every other down day. I also recognize that I mainly write in this blog when I'm feeling really down. So I should say that I do smile and laugh with my friends and enjoy my visits with family; I even laugh out loud at funny things on TV. Right now, thinking about our anniversary and missing Ed so much that it hurts just isn't one of those times when I can smile.
Despite learning in my support group that significant days can bring back the intense grief, I didn't prepare myself for it to happen. I had a diversion last week, going to Melissa and Mark's from Wednesday to Sunday. I painted their kitchen, foyer, and hallway; we rode through the flood-devastated areas that are still a long way from recovering; we shopped; I enjoyed Will, of course. Even getting back home I found diversions by going to a downsizing workshop with a few friends, going to the weekly supper gathering, and helping a friend unpack at her new place. But each night for probably the last two weeks--even at Melissa's--I have awakened feeling just so sad and alone. Then I can't get back to sleep, which means I'm tired during the day and fall asleep in the afternoon, which then makes it difficult to get to sleep at bedtime. It's a vicious cycle. My friends have joked that we should set up some instant messaging alert so that when we are prowling the house at 3 a.m., we can signal that we're up and needing to talk. So I know I'm not the only one going through this.
I'm sure I'll get through tomorrow--and even get through today--because I have to and because I've gotten through every other down day. I also recognize that I mainly write in this blog when I'm feeling really down. So I should say that I do smile and laugh with my friends and enjoy my visits with family; I even laugh out loud at funny things on TV. Right now, thinking about our anniversary and missing Ed so much that it hurts just isn't one of those times when I can smile.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Ed's birthday again
Today is Ed's birthday. I just heard some firecrackers go off in the neighborhood, and I am reminded that he used to claim any fireworks shot off on July 3 were a celebration of his birthday, not Independence Day.
Mass this morning at our church was for Ed and I attended, of course, since I arranged for the Mass intention. I took a dozen red roses to the cemetery afterwards. Things have been pretty quiet through the rest of my day today. I opted not to go to tonight's big Columbus fireworks display "Red, White, and Boom." Although I appreciated being there last year with Debbie and Tom and family, I just didn't have the desire to go this year. Watching them on TV will be good enough.
I guess I don't have much to say tonight. I miss Ed terribly, not just on his birthday but every day.
Mass this morning at our church was for Ed and I attended, of course, since I arranged for the Mass intention. I took a dozen red roses to the cemetery afterwards. Things have been pretty quiet through the rest of my day today. I opted not to go to tonight's big Columbus fireworks display "Red, White, and Boom." Although I appreciated being there last year with Debbie and Tom and family, I just didn't have the desire to go this year. Watching them on TV will be good enough.
I guess I don't have much to say tonight. I miss Ed terribly, not just on his birthday but every day.
Monday, June 16, 2008
One year
How can it have been a whole year since Ed's death? There have been so many times that it seems like he's just away on yet another business trip and will be coming home soon. Then reality kicks in, and my heart hurts.
My friends who already had their first anniversaries told me that the days leading up to the date were worse than the anniversary date itself. That proved true for me, too. Try as I may to focus on good memories, Ed's last weeks kept taking over my thoughts. My worst day was Saturday rather than yesterday. Perhaps that was because Ed died on Saturday, June 16 last year, the day before Father's Day. One comfort I did have on Saturday was that Melissa had asked me several weeks ago to place three red roses at his grave for Father's Day, one each from her, Mark, and Will. The florist was apologetic that she was out of baby's breath to put with them and supplied some purple-flowered stems, whose name I can't recall, instead of baby's breath along with some greenery. Little did she know how appropriate I thought the purple was--a remembrance of Norwalk city and school colors and of Melissa and Mark's wedding accent color. Then yesterday afternoon I added a rose from our rose bush to the arrangement.
Also on Saturday, I went to 5:00 Mass because Sherry had arranged for it to be in remembrance of her father; that was her Father's Day gift to Ed. Back when she did this, we both asked the woman at church who handles the Mass intentions to somehow assure that "Giesman" would be pronounced correctly. When I saw that the lector who would read the Prayer of the Faithful was a high school boy, I figured he would mispronounce it. But he said it perfectly--and that got to me instantly. It's difficult to camouflage tears streaming down your face when you're out in public, and it took me several minutes to compose myself. I was on the verge of a hard cry the entire rest of the Mass and barely made it into the car before I let it come.
A major distraction since Thursday of last week was the historic flooding in Cedar Rapids. Although their home in Fairfax, a few miles outside of Cedar Rapids, was fine and they never lost electricity or water or phone service, Melissa and Mark's work was affected because of the extreme street flooding which severely inhibited getting around and actual flooding in buildings. Melissa's work, Tanager Place Clinic, was shut down, and Mark's job in Marketing at Mercy Hospital turned into a very different role for him as part of the Emergency Management Team, especially since the hospital was evacuated. Melissa called me numerous times with updates or asking for advice on how to prepare for possible loss of power. I watched The Weather Channel a lot because they had extensive coverage of the situation. There were frequent comparisons in the news to the flooding in 1993; this flooding, however, is much worse. In 1993, we were living in Norwalk, IA, but the flooding in July then wiped out the water plant in Des Moines which provided our water, so we spent two weeks without running water. Ed missed out on some of this because he was in California on business.
My other distraction is that I'm working on SAT essays from the June test administration. I am having difficulty focusing at times, and I'm sure a computer somewhere at Pearson is tracking the fact that sometimes I've spent only 10 minutes working before taking yet another break. Yesterday I did put in a few hours total, but at midday my neighbors, Sherry Statczar and Ann Morgan, insisted on taking me to lunch--although with the largest and most comfortable car among us, I did the driving. When Sherry suggested this, I really did not want to go because I thought I just wanted to be alone for the day. But I know she wanted to do something nice for me and I didn't want to offend her, so I went. It was a pleasant time and the food was tasty, so I guess it was good "lunch therapy."
I had several e-mails in recent days and especially on Monday from Melissa, daughter Becky, niece Pat, several of my cousins, and from my support group friends, all letting me know how much they care about me. I also had a call from my sister, Marie, and one from daughter Sherry last evening. I really appreciate them all. As Ed would often say, even when we understood his diagnosis, "It is what it is." So the first anniversary is over, and my heart still hurts, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other to go on.
I have been writing this entry since 5:00 am when I woke up. I didn't think it would be so hard to compose it. Here's hoping I do a better job of focusing on those SAT essays today.
My friends who already had their first anniversaries told me that the days leading up to the date were worse than the anniversary date itself. That proved true for me, too. Try as I may to focus on good memories, Ed's last weeks kept taking over my thoughts. My worst day was Saturday rather than yesterday. Perhaps that was because Ed died on Saturday, June 16 last year, the day before Father's Day. One comfort I did have on Saturday was that Melissa had asked me several weeks ago to place three red roses at his grave for Father's Day, one each from her, Mark, and Will. The florist was apologetic that she was out of baby's breath to put with them and supplied some purple-flowered stems, whose name I can't recall, instead of baby's breath along with some greenery. Little did she know how appropriate I thought the purple was--a remembrance of Norwalk city and school colors and of Melissa and Mark's wedding accent color. Then yesterday afternoon I added a rose from our rose bush to the arrangement.
Also on Saturday, I went to 5:00 Mass because Sherry had arranged for it to be in remembrance of her father; that was her Father's Day gift to Ed. Back when she did this, we both asked the woman at church who handles the Mass intentions to somehow assure that "Giesman" would be pronounced correctly. When I saw that the lector who would read the Prayer of the Faithful was a high school boy, I figured he would mispronounce it. But he said it perfectly--and that got to me instantly. It's difficult to camouflage tears streaming down your face when you're out in public, and it took me several minutes to compose myself. I was on the verge of a hard cry the entire rest of the Mass and barely made it into the car before I let it come.
A major distraction since Thursday of last week was the historic flooding in Cedar Rapids. Although their home in Fairfax, a few miles outside of Cedar Rapids, was fine and they never lost electricity or water or phone service, Melissa and Mark's work was affected because of the extreme street flooding which severely inhibited getting around and actual flooding in buildings. Melissa's work, Tanager Place Clinic, was shut down, and Mark's job in Marketing at Mercy Hospital turned into a very different role for him as part of the Emergency Management Team, especially since the hospital was evacuated. Melissa called me numerous times with updates or asking for advice on how to prepare for possible loss of power. I watched The Weather Channel a lot because they had extensive coverage of the situation. There were frequent comparisons in the news to the flooding in 1993; this flooding, however, is much worse. In 1993, we were living in Norwalk, IA, but the flooding in July then wiped out the water plant in Des Moines which provided our water, so we spent two weeks without running water. Ed missed out on some of this because he was in California on business.
My other distraction is that I'm working on SAT essays from the June test administration. I am having difficulty focusing at times, and I'm sure a computer somewhere at Pearson is tracking the fact that sometimes I've spent only 10 minutes working before taking yet another break. Yesterday I did put in a few hours total, but at midday my neighbors, Sherry Statczar and Ann Morgan, insisted on taking me to lunch--although with the largest and most comfortable car among us, I did the driving. When Sherry suggested this, I really did not want to go because I thought I just wanted to be alone for the day. But I know she wanted to do something nice for me and I didn't want to offend her, so I went. It was a pleasant time and the food was tasty, so I guess it was good "lunch therapy."
I had several e-mails in recent days and especially on Monday from Melissa, daughter Becky, niece Pat, several of my cousins, and from my support group friends, all letting me know how much they care about me. I also had a call from my sister, Marie, and one from daughter Sherry last evening. I really appreciate them all. As Ed would often say, even when we understood his diagnosis, "It is what it is." So the first anniversary is over, and my heart still hurts, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other to go on.
I have been writing this entry since 5:00 am when I woke up. I didn't think it would be so hard to compose it. Here's hoping I do a better job of focusing on those SAT essays today.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Post-surgery update
I deliberately waited until after my follow-up visit to the surgeon to update the blog. Yes, I said surgeon. On Friday, April 25, I had my gallbladder removed. It was done with laproscopic surgery, which means it was outpatient surgery; I had 4 very small incisions to accommodate the instruments and a very quick recovery time compared with the more traditional surgery. The whole process of being admitted 1 1/2 hours before surgery time (which ended up starting an hour late) to coming out of the anesthetic took about 6 hours. Becky was my "babysitter." She took me to the hospital, waited, brought me home, stayed with me up until 24 hours past surgery time. I had no reaction to the anesthetic, very little pain afterwards, and by Thursday of last week I was out mowing already (even though neighbor Bill Morgan pestered me about doing that). The days in between the surgery and resuming normal activity I spent mostly in the recliner (shades of Ed around this time last year--that weighed on my mind heavily). From right after surgery, I began to eat normally and I have not had any problems with that. So overall, even though I had high anxiety beforehand, the surgery went very well, and the surgeon didn't even yell at me at the follow-up appointment for driving and doing things sooner than the discharge instructions said I should. I'm still not supposed to lift more than 10 pounds for another 4 weeks or so, but that's to prevent the possibility of a hernia developing in the area of the "poke hole" at my belly button. I can't do my morning stretches and crunches yet either, but I am supposed to get back to walking every day. I confess that so far, my walking has mainly been behind the lawn mower.
My last support group meeting was the Wednesday before the surgery. I along with about 10 others from my group of new friends have decided to "graduate." However, we also want to continue getting together as friends and have already laid the groundwork for doing that on a regular basis. Sixteen of us had a pot luck and lots of laughs and conversation last evening. We'll do it again next week, and next Saturday we'll spend the day at one friend's horse farm. I'm counting on this to continue because I have come to really cherish these people. It's a lot like the closeness Ed and I felt with our Lakewood/Norwalk/Iowa friends--they're more like family, very caring and ready to help each other if needed. In fact, one friend brought me supper on Sunday after my surgery, and numerous others offered to be with me for and after the surgery and to drive me around until I could drive. Our support group counselors reminded us that we can come back to the large group anytime for "booster shots." It's comforting to know that option is always there. Now, if I could just figure out how to stay asleep through the night, I wouldn't be up writing in the blog in the wee hours!
My last support group meeting was the Wednesday before the surgery. I along with about 10 others from my group of new friends have decided to "graduate." However, we also want to continue getting together as friends and have already laid the groundwork for doing that on a regular basis. Sixteen of us had a pot luck and lots of laughs and conversation last evening. We'll do it again next week, and next Saturday we'll spend the day at one friend's horse farm. I'm counting on this to continue because I have come to really cherish these people. It's a lot like the closeness Ed and I felt with our Lakewood/Norwalk/Iowa friends--they're more like family, very caring and ready to help each other if needed. In fact, one friend brought me supper on Sunday after my surgery, and numerous others offered to be with me for and after the surgery and to drive me around until I could drive. Our support group counselors reminded us that we can come back to the large group anytime for "booster shots." It's comforting to know that option is always there. Now, if I could just figure out how to stay asleep through the night, I wouldn't be up writing in the blog in the wee hours!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
A good visit and lots of visitors
Melissa, Mark, and Will arrived Thursday night, April 3, after a nine-hour drive from Iowa. Will did really well traveling, so they only stopped twice. I thought he did really well the entire visit except for refusing to take naps now and then. Too much going on that was new, I guess.
On Friday we lunched at Cheeseburger in Paradise, someplace M & M had never been, and while we were there in walked grandson Josh and his girlfriend Honesty. I think my calling out to him startled him, but I was glad to see the two of them and have them see Will (and Melissa and Mark, of course). Friday evening granddaughter Heather, Jeff, Payton, Madison, and Lillian came for a visit. The two sets of young parents compared notes and passed the baby around while I enjoyed playing with the three girls.
Neighbors Ann and Bill and Sherry all stopped by during the weekend, too. Everybody loves to meet and hold a baby. The weather was sunny and pleasant on Saturday, so Melissa and I strolled Will to the park, his first experience with that kind of setting. He is so fascinated by everything around him--that is, when he isn't focused on gnawing away at whatever he can get to his mouth. We also went to the cemetery where Melissa, Mark, and Will placed three red roses in the vase at Ed's marker.
Sunday was the big day for visitors. Will was very good in church but would not go to sleep afterwards. David, Sadie and Grayton arrived around 2:30, and Debbie, Tom and Annie shortly thereafter. As tired as he was, Will just wouldn't miss out on seeing new people and settled right into being passed around the various laps. Starting at 4:00 everyone else arrived--Becky and family, Ed and his two sons, grandson Rob and his fiance Colleen, and Judi. It was such a beautiful afternoon that I grilled some marinated chicken tenders to go with the rest of the spread. It was so good for my soul to have Melissa, Mark, and the baby here, get this meal together, and see everyone enjoying the food and conversation. This was the first time we were all together in this house since Ed's funeral. I've wanted everybody together here for so long and I knew Ed would want that. Having space to have everyone together was the primary reason we chose this house. So even though it probably sounds a little selfish--especially because I know it was hard for a few people to be here without Ed--I'm very glad it finally happened after so long.
Monday morning we went back to the cemetery; the roses were open and beautiful. I knew seeing Ed's marker and gravesite would be emotional for Melissa, but I'm grateful that she wanted to go visit the grave. I go often and my neighbor Bill has said he visits there occasionally, but I don't know if anyone else does. After that visit, M & M and Will left for home. It took a little longer to get back because Will was not a happy traveler this time, but Melissa reported that once he was free to roll all over the place on the floor at home, he was happy and even got up on all fours. He was showing signs here that he is getting ready to crawl--he "scooched" a little getting after some toys (is that how you spell that word?).
I told the support group last night that I had a really good week since last Wednesday. I thought having an empty house again would affect me immediately on Monday, and it did, but not as much as I anticipated. Perhaps it was because Monday evening I had a nutrition workshop to go to and knew I would see friends from the group there. After the workshop, three of us had one of those enjoyable parking-lot conversations that wanders all over the place--any excuse to be out in the pleasant night air for a bit with friendly people. Tuesday I picked up the tax returns, and even that didn't dampen my mood since the results weren't too bad. But now here I am, up since 4 a.m. and crying. I don't remember having a dream that triggered this, so I guess I haven't kicked that feeling-lonely and trouble-sleeping thing yet.
On Friday we lunched at Cheeseburger in Paradise, someplace M & M had never been, and while we were there in walked grandson Josh and his girlfriend Honesty. I think my calling out to him startled him, but I was glad to see the two of them and have them see Will (and Melissa and Mark, of course). Friday evening granddaughter Heather, Jeff, Payton, Madison, and Lillian came for a visit. The two sets of young parents compared notes and passed the baby around while I enjoyed playing with the three girls.
Neighbors Ann and Bill and Sherry all stopped by during the weekend, too. Everybody loves to meet and hold a baby. The weather was sunny and pleasant on Saturday, so Melissa and I strolled Will to the park, his first experience with that kind of setting. He is so fascinated by everything around him--that is, when he isn't focused on gnawing away at whatever he can get to his mouth. We also went to the cemetery where Melissa, Mark, and Will placed three red roses in the vase at Ed's marker.
Sunday was the big day for visitors. Will was very good in church but would not go to sleep afterwards. David, Sadie and Grayton arrived around 2:30, and Debbie, Tom and Annie shortly thereafter. As tired as he was, Will just wouldn't miss out on seeing new people and settled right into being passed around the various laps. Starting at 4:00 everyone else arrived--Becky and family, Ed and his two sons, grandson Rob and his fiance Colleen, and Judi. It was such a beautiful afternoon that I grilled some marinated chicken tenders to go with the rest of the spread. It was so good for my soul to have Melissa, Mark, and the baby here, get this meal together, and see everyone enjoying the food and conversation. This was the first time we were all together in this house since Ed's funeral. I've wanted everybody together here for so long and I knew Ed would want that. Having space to have everyone together was the primary reason we chose this house. So even though it probably sounds a little selfish--especially because I know it was hard for a few people to be here without Ed--I'm very glad it finally happened after so long.
Monday morning we went back to the cemetery; the roses were open and beautiful. I knew seeing Ed's marker and gravesite would be emotional for Melissa, but I'm grateful that she wanted to go visit the grave. I go often and my neighbor Bill has said he visits there occasionally, but I don't know if anyone else does. After that visit, M & M and Will left for home. It took a little longer to get back because Will was not a happy traveler this time, but Melissa reported that once he was free to roll all over the place on the floor at home, he was happy and even got up on all fours. He was showing signs here that he is getting ready to crawl--he "scooched" a little getting after some toys (is that how you spell that word?).
I told the support group last night that I had a really good week since last Wednesday. I thought having an empty house again would affect me immediately on Monday, and it did, but not as much as I anticipated. Perhaps it was because Monday evening I had a nutrition workshop to go to and knew I would see friends from the group there. After the workshop, three of us had one of those enjoyable parking-lot conversations that wanders all over the place--any excuse to be out in the pleasant night air for a bit with friendly people. Tuesday I picked up the tax returns, and even that didn't dampen my mood since the results weren't too bad. But now here I am, up since 4 a.m. and crying. I don't remember having a dream that triggered this, so I guess I haven't kicked that feeling-lonely and trouble-sleeping thing yet.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Unexpectedly hospitalized
Never did I think I would spend Easter Sunday in the hospital. I was awakened around midnight by a pain in the middle of my chest. To say I was scared is an understatement. As the pain intensified and felt like a tightening, I immediately thought I was having a heart attack and took some aspirin, wondering if I should call someone to come help me or dial 9-1-1. But then the pain radiated around my right side and up my back beside my right shoulder blade. Although it may have been foolish, I got online to look up signs of a heart attack in women because I remember reading that women may experience different symptoms than men do. I couldn't completely relate what I found to what I was experiencing, plus the aspirin seemed to help the pain subside a little and I was moving about the house OK despite the pain. But then it turned into a burning pain, so I went looking in the cabinet for something for heartburn (I've never had heartburn that I know of, so I don't know what it feels like). I chewed a Pepcid Complete, but it did nothing. The pain intensified more, so I called 9-1-1. Right after I hung up the phone, I felt nauseous and brought the Pepcid right back up. I knew nausea could be associated with a heart attack and prepared to go to the hospital, hoping I hadn't been foolish in delaying my call for help. I unlocked the front door, got dressed, gathered my purse and coat, and the paramedics arrived. They first did an EKG right in the living room and it showed no problem. By then the pain was subsiding again. They nevertheless wanted to take me in to be checked out and I agreed.
I had another EKG at the hospital and blood work to check for the tell-tale enzyme of a heart problem, but nothing showed up. Still, I was told I'd be admitted for observation and monitoring for 24 hours with continued blood draws and my wearing a heart monitor. However, other enzymes from the liver and pancreas showed slightly elevated levels, and that combined with my description of the pain and the fact that I got really sick to my stomach in the ER led the doctors to suspect stones in my gallbladder, one of which must have blocked a duct for about 1 1/2 hours and caused the pain--and an ultrasound showed that to be the case. So in addition to monitoring my heart, after I was admitted I had another, more thorough ultrasound. By mid-day, the internist who was assigned to me determined that there was no heart problem (other than my right bundle block which I've known about for a few years and which causes no problems and requires no treatment). He discontinued the IV and cancelled the rest of the blood draws, though I still had to wear the heart monitor. However, he called in a surgeon for a consult and they both studied my second ultrasound. They concluded that I was not in any danger from anything connected with the stones in my gallbladder and said I could go home. Some people have gallstones all their lives and never have a problem; they stay "silent." However, the internist recommended I have my gall bladder removed because once someone has an attack, more attacks are likely. The surgeon explained the procedure to me and recommended giving myself 2 weeks to settle back down, then see him in his office to discuss the surgery further and set a date for it sometime in the next 6 weeks. So I will discuss this with my own internist, but that's what I'm planning to do.
Getting out of the hospital was a fiasco. I won't go into all the details, but there were problems in communication among the doctors and nurses. No one signed my discharge paperwork; because all the monitoring orders were cancelled, my nurse just pretty much ignored me and then went home with the notation on my chart still saying that I was to be kept overnight. My complaints did get some attention from the night shift nurse, and after she made a bunch of calls and figured out how to discharge me electronically, I finally was disconnected from the heart monitor and allowed to leave. Debbie picked me up, and I got back in the house at about 10:15 pm, roughly 8 hours after I had been told I could go home.
Instead of writing about having Easter dinner at Becky and Tim's house--which obviously didn't happen for me--I can now tell you a lot about how the gallbladder functions and what happens in the body once it is removed. This was all quite an education for me from both the medical perspective and a more personal one. Once again I am reminded that I need to anticipate, pre-plan, keep medical and other information in order and accessible, and be sure to have a support system in place for emergencies and other times I will need help. It's quite a lesson.
I had another EKG at the hospital and blood work to check for the tell-tale enzyme of a heart problem, but nothing showed up. Still, I was told I'd be admitted for observation and monitoring for 24 hours with continued blood draws and my wearing a heart monitor. However, other enzymes from the liver and pancreas showed slightly elevated levels, and that combined with my description of the pain and the fact that I got really sick to my stomach in the ER led the doctors to suspect stones in my gallbladder, one of which must have blocked a duct for about 1 1/2 hours and caused the pain--and an ultrasound showed that to be the case. So in addition to monitoring my heart, after I was admitted I had another, more thorough ultrasound. By mid-day, the internist who was assigned to me determined that there was no heart problem (other than my right bundle block which I've known about for a few years and which causes no problems and requires no treatment). He discontinued the IV and cancelled the rest of the blood draws, though I still had to wear the heart monitor. However, he called in a surgeon for a consult and they both studied my second ultrasound. They concluded that I was not in any danger from anything connected with the stones in my gallbladder and said I could go home. Some people have gallstones all their lives and never have a problem; they stay "silent." However, the internist recommended I have my gall bladder removed because once someone has an attack, more attacks are likely. The surgeon explained the procedure to me and recommended giving myself 2 weeks to settle back down, then see him in his office to discuss the surgery further and set a date for it sometime in the next 6 weeks. So I will discuss this with my own internist, but that's what I'm planning to do.
Getting out of the hospital was a fiasco. I won't go into all the details, but there were problems in communication among the doctors and nurses. No one signed my discharge paperwork; because all the monitoring orders were cancelled, my nurse just pretty much ignored me and then went home with the notation on my chart still saying that I was to be kept overnight. My complaints did get some attention from the night shift nurse, and after she made a bunch of calls and figured out how to discharge me electronically, I finally was disconnected from the heart monitor and allowed to leave. Debbie picked me up, and I got back in the house at about 10:15 pm, roughly 8 hours after I had been told I could go home.
Instead of writing about having Easter dinner at Becky and Tim's house--which obviously didn't happen for me--I can now tell you a lot about how the gallbladder functions and what happens in the body once it is removed. This was all quite an education for me from both the medical perspective and a more personal one. Once again I am reminded that I need to anticipate, pre-plan, keep medical and other information in order and accessible, and be sure to have a support system in place for emergencies and other times I will need help. It's quite a lesson.
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