17 LONG hours!

Forgive me followers for it has been 17 hours since my last post. And a very long 17 hours it has been. Caren had a really rough night. Continuously uncomfortable and increasingly nauseas, despite the NG tube being there. She had the same nurse as the night before, but for some reason the whole floor was in grouchy-mode. I took off around 10pm, getting to Jenna's place in Queens at about 11pm. I had enough time to eat some pizza and have a beer (thank you Ryan for ALWAYS having a fridge full of cold beer!) when the phone rang.

I could barely understand her through the sobs, but Caren was not doing well. I was able to piece together that she had actually thrown up around the NG tube, which completely defeats the purpose of having the NG tube in there. It also sounded like the the staff was less than receptive to her pleads for help. Soooooo, back onto the N-Train I jumped. I am still amazed that, even after midnight, the trains were standing room only. I arrived back at the hospital at 1:15am and this is where I need to give my 2-cents on security guards.

I have been coming and going from this facility, multiple times a day, for a week now. In that week, I was asked where I was going maybe twice. As soon as I provided a clear answer and destination, the conversation ended. My recent dabbles with the Homeland Security community has taught me that a hospital is a juicy target for people wanting to do bad things. I actually applaud a little scrutiny at the front door. For the most part, however, I was never given a second glance as I marched in or out with my backpack full of computer stuff, entertainment gear, random body parts or plastic explosive, they would never know. That is until 1AM this morning.

At 1 friggin-o-clock in the morning, with "Please don't fuck with me" tattooed on my forehead, Sponge Bob Square Badge decides this is the perfect moment to lock the facility down and institute random body cavity searches on anyone wanting to enter the building. Now, if you're the ONLY dude walking into the hospital without a Mt. Sinai ID badge, you have a damn good chance of being "picked" for a random search. Ok, there was no actual body cavity search, nor did he insist on looking in my bag, but we did do our little version of the Spanish inquisition in the lobby. He went to far as to call the floor to confirm that the patient I stated I was arriving to visit actually existed. On one hand, I applaud him for challenging me and instilling some semblance of a security screening. On the other hand, I wanted very badly to stab him in the eye with the pin from his very large, square badge; it was late, I was grumpy. I swear I'm not a violent person in any way, shape or form.

I got up stairs in time to see the staff scurrying from the room like roaches when the lights go on. I think one of them actually breathed a sigh of releif when I came around the corner. We settled back in, hung the IV Benadryl (All hail the inventor of Diphenhydramine!) and got some fitful sleep, Caren tossing and turning in the bed and me in my chair (see picture above).

I was awakened about 90 minutes later to the sound of retching. By now, I think I'm actually over my issues with vomit. There's something about living on a floor devoted to GI patients for a week that just changes a man. Caren was throwing up around the NG tube AGAIN. The nurse came in and tried to comfort her, which, had she not been puking her guts out, would have been a death sentence. In between heaves, Caren was able to conjure a look so nasty I think small children would go blind if they saw it. Our nurse got the message and backed off. We convinced her to irrigate the NG tube so it would flow better and got some Zofran (anti-nausea med). We made it through the rest of the night fairly smoothly.

The morning meetings with the Residents and Surgeon brought more troubling news. The blood clot they discovered during her CAT Scan may be more insidious than they initially let on. The Surgeon explained that the clot is resting in the hepatic portal vein which is the primary drain for the small intestine. If that vein is even partially blocked, it will cause intestinal swelling/distention which leads to: nausea, vomiting, fever, abdominal pressure/discomfort, and decreased intestinal function (sound familiar to anyone?) It's not clear if this is the root cause of ALL of her symptoms, but the Doc seems to think it's a major player. SO they started her on Lovenox, a blood thinner, to reduce the size of the clot. Hopefully, the blood flow will be restored and we get back on the road to recovery. One big downside is that once they start thinning her blood, she's gonna be on thinners for 6 months after she leaves the hospital, which in and of itself, is not that big a deal. The kicker is that, when you're on blood thinners, they need to check your clotting times twice a week at first, weekly later on and at least twice a month towards the end of the cycle. So much for going home and leaving this arduous ordeal behind us!

She is resting as comfortably as can be expected right now. The foley catheter has been removed, which must feel great! Our energy took a hit when the doctors said she wasn't going home until Sunday at the earliest and more than likely wouldn't get out of the hospital until some time next week. But we're hanging in there.