A Big Problem
My husband had another angiogram/angioplasty this past week, including the placement of two aortic stints to keep his artery open after it was cleaned out. He had a triple bypass about 6 years ago. Since that time one of the "harvested" arteries used for the bypass had clogged, while the "native" artery (the one they were attempting to bypass) remained at 65% clogged. I find it interesting that the artery used for the bypass ended up becoming more clogged than the artery that was bypassed. Such is the mystery of plaque.
Anyway, he had this procedure at the same hospital where he had his by pass surgery. He's been treated at this hospital several times in the past. Besides the triple bypass, he was admitted for observation due to chest pain and had an angiogram. He was seen in the emergency room after he shot an awl (it's like a screw driver) into his foot (through his tennis shoe) while mowing. He was admitted to the hospital for elevated blood sugar after he developed an infection from the awl. And he was treated for diverticulitis in the ER during the middle of the night. These are just a few of his visits. Needless to say, I am very familiar with this hospital. I have "celebrated" many special occasions at this hospital. In 1997, I celebrated my 40th birthday there. In 2000 I had Christmas dinner alone in the cafeteria there. And in 2001, I spent New Year's Day there. My husband and I have been to their emergency room so often, we're on a first name basis with one of the ER nurses.
So this past week was like going for a visit to an old friend's house. I know my way around the place even after they remodeled. I know when the best time is to hit the cafeteria and miss the lunch rush. I know how to get from the back of the hospital (where the entrance from the parking garage is) to the front of the hospital (where the elevators to the patient floors are) without getting lost. I know which floor to get off on to get to the parking garage (the ground floor, not the first). I know where to park to be close to the elevator in the parking garage and not lose my car. Take it from me, I know my way around the place.
When you become this familiar with a hospital (and you don't work there), you have a problem. My husband isn't terminally ill, but he does have health problems and I worry about him. I don't want to live my life without him. That's a BIG problem.
Anyway, he had this procedure at the same hospital where he had his by pass surgery. He's been treated at this hospital several times in the past. Besides the triple bypass, he was admitted for observation due to chest pain and had an angiogram. He was seen in the emergency room after he shot an awl (it's like a screw driver) into his foot (through his tennis shoe) while mowing. He was admitted to the hospital for elevated blood sugar after he developed an infection from the awl. And he was treated for diverticulitis in the ER during the middle of the night. These are just a few of his visits. Needless to say, I am very familiar with this hospital. I have "celebrated" many special occasions at this hospital. In 1997, I celebrated my 40th birthday there. In 2000 I had Christmas dinner alone in the cafeteria there. And in 2001, I spent New Year's Day there. My husband and I have been to their emergency room so often, we're on a first name basis with one of the ER nurses.
So this past week was like going for a visit to an old friend's house. I know my way around the place even after they remodeled. I know when the best time is to hit the cafeteria and miss the lunch rush. I know how to get from the back of the hospital (where the entrance from the parking garage is) to the front of the hospital (where the elevators to the patient floors are) without getting lost. I know which floor to get off on to get to the parking garage (the ground floor, not the first). I know where to park to be close to the elevator in the parking garage and not lose my car. Take it from me, I know my way around the place.
When you become this familiar with a hospital (and you don't work there), you have a problem. My husband isn't terminally ill, but he does have health problems and I worry about him. I don't want to live my life without him. That's a BIG problem.
posted by AustiNative | 7:03 PM
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