STICU Day 1

The STICU (Surgical and Trauma Intensive Care Unit) Day #1

            I don’t really remember what we did while we were waiting for them to get him settled in, but I do remember lots of people sitting around trying to sleep in their chairs and I wondered why so many guests would be spending the night.  Soon, after talking to Shawn, the night nurse, I realized that family was not allowed to stay with a patient in the ICU.

            At about 3:00 a.m. was when we finally called back and asked to see him–we realized later they were not very good about notifying us when they said they would.  Anyway, he seemed to be resting well.  Shawn–a dark haired guy with earrings and a sports smock asked about medical history.  He also informed us that we could call and come back to visit anytime buy only two at a time and only for a few minutes at a time.  He also said a CT scan was ordered for later in the morning and that a doctor would be around in the afternoon to read it–but he could tell us earlier if there were any changes.  That made me feel good because I felt like I would have answers soon.

            At 3:30 a.m., My mother-in-law and I headed back to the lounge.  I grabbed a sheet and pillow, sat down by a fish tank, Mom pushed another chair up to build me a bed, and I settled in.  It was hot, bright as day, and I was worried, but I slept a little.  At 5:30 I woke up to go to the bathroom and an empty feeling in my stomach kept me from falling back asleep.  I noticed My father-in-law was also awake, so we soon went to check on JohnDeere and then on to the cafeteria for breakfast.  I couldn’t tell if I was hungry or nauseous–and nothing sounded good, but I ate an omelet anyway.  JohnDeere had Jello for breakfast in his room.

            We rested some, then I went to talk to him.  He asked me what happened.  All he remembered was sliding on the tailgate and then waking up in ICU on Sunday morning.  I explained how “The Great” had helped him and the helicopter had flown him here. 

“You know you’re in Fort Wayne, right?”

“Well, yeah (with a smart aleck tone). They took me for some kind of scan, do they know what’s wrong with me yet?”

While I was eating he had had his second CT scan. I explained to him that he had a fractured skull and he would have to be there a couple of days.  “Shit” was his one word response.

            I headed back out to relax and began to write my lesson plans.  Fortunately I had my laptop, planner, and a good idea of what needed to be done, so I pretty easily cranked out a weekly instruction manual.

            Then the family started showing up–first Aunt and cousin (after a morning of youth hunting), then Grandma and Grandpa (who, because of Grandpa’s pacemaker have been here often).

            [Later in the day: His doctor, who was supposed to read the CT scan around noon was not very timely.  My mom forced me to go eat lunch around 1:00 p.m. and then I finally go to talk with Dr. Kachman.]

            At around 11:00 a.m. I got a text from CJ– they had already left the reception when the accident happened and I thought that everyone had agreed not to tell them about it until they got back from their honeymoon, but Mr. Painter’ parents, Dennis and Peggy, had).  I was upset that they would have to worry about this while they were supposed to be having a romantic trip, but they assured me they were glad to know now rather than later.  They went in to visit with him and he asked them when they were leaving on their trip.  That’s when things got a little messy. . .he got the “I’m going to puke”-look on his face.  Mr. Painter yelled for CJ to grab a trashcan–she found one and as she was brining it up, JohnDeere’s vomit-filled broken head was coming down.  This fiasco was mostly successful except he puked on her hand and she gave him a fat lip.  This was actually his most gruesome superficial injury.

            It was actually after the CJ/Mr. Painter projectile vomit that I talked with Dr. Kachman.  He said that the CT scan showed no change and according to him JohnDeere could be moved to a regular room.  He said, “These results make me happy, and if I’m happy you should be very happy.”  He was wearing a tan suit jacket and a tie with hippy flowers on it–this suited his white-haired persona much better than the leather jacket he donned in the ER!

            I was very happy with this news, but the nurse quickly brought me back down to Earth. She said that doctor Kachman really had no say in when JohnDeere moved because he is actually a Another hospital doctor.  He had ordered another CT scan (#3) for the morning–Then a The hospital doctor would review it and make a recommendation.  I was not excited to wait another day, but she assured me that these doctors would come earlier in the morning so they planned to have his scan done by 7:00 a.m. so everything would be good to go as soon as possible.  I left him to rest for a while.

            Back in the lounge, Pastor Bill and Priscilla Wood had come to visit.  We talked a while and they gave us a card and a church bulletin.  Then My in-laws decided to go home to get cleaned up.  Soon after they left, Dave and Beth Metzger stopped by.  They didn’t go back to visit JohnDeere, but they did pray with Mom and I.

            When they left I went back in to check on him.  The nurse came in to remove his IV that they had given him “in the field” because he had complained about it hurting.  To JohnDeere’s unpleasant surprise, the 1 ½ inch wide tape being ripped from around his arm was one of the most shocking pains.  Then she un-bandaged his right elbow and cleaned out the cut.  This also got an ouchy response.  She gave him some pain meds, and I went back to the lounge.

            Soon we met up with Dan and Eileen Ransbottom.  They actually heard about the fall from a Mrs. Beery.  Her son, who lives in Missouri, had read about it on Heather’s Facebook page.  He called and told his mom who called and asked Dan and Eileen what they knew about the Wise boy’s accident.  It was news to them.  All Eileen could talk about was how handsome JohnDeere had been a few weeks ago at the church’s 125^th Anniversary celebration.  When they went into see him, she kissed him.

            Later that evening, My father-in-law and I checked in on him and he threw up a second time.  The nurse had given him anti-nausea medicine, but it wasn’t helping because it wasn’t his stomach that was making him sick, it was his head.  I was very worried about the fact he couldn’t keep anything down.  And he was feeling very hungry.

            Late that evening (or at least it seemed late) “The Great” and Kyle, Vester and Mouth came to visit.  I told them about him puking on CJ and we looked at Facebook pictures of the wedding.  It was very difficult to look at all the fun things that happened just hours before our shock–the handsome pictures of him in a tux represented an old JohnDeere and an old life that I wasn’t quite sure I would have back yet.  And pictures in the parking lot made my heart sick.

            Soon after everyone left, I found a few sheets and pillows.  I set out for a loveseat–covered my eyes and ears with a sheet, and tried to get my legs situated on the three-foot sofa.  I successfully managed to block out the light and most of the noise when I heard My mother-in-law talking to a family and admitted to myself that I had to go to the bathroom.

            As I headed that direction, I stopped to talk with My mother-in-law and the family.  I soon understood that they were the parents of the young man who was in an accident at Grace College. He had been walking with a young lady who was a freshman volleyball player at Grace.  They stopped to sit on a hammock, which, unbeknownst to them was fastened to a rotten tree.  The tree snapped and landed on the couple.  The girl was killed and the young man was moved to the trauma ICU.  That was a week ago.  His family seemed in good spirits and they were thanking God for all the progress he was making.  They told us he had to have bonds from his pelvis to make some new vertebrae for his neck.  He was on a ventilator, and paralyzed from the waist down.  They told us that they had travelled from Iowa to be here and that their son would have to be in ICU for three more weeks and then to a rehabilitation hospital for a while after that.  They were a wonderfully nice family and since that accident was close to home, and Chellie knew the young lady from sports (she was from Wabash), I was interested to hear their story.

            When we were finished talking with them, I complained to my mother-in-law about being hot (she and I share an aversion to temperatures over seventy degrees) and then I tried to settle in.

            Meanwhile, My mother-in-law spoke with Grandma who suggested I stay at the school of nursing.  She told My mother-in-law that it was just right across the street, it costs only a few dollars a night, and she stays there any time that Grandpa has heart stuff.  My mother-in-law presented the idea to me and said that she would stay in the lounge.  I was reluctant to stay by myself in a strange place, but I knew my stinky feet could use a shower, and my must-have-8-hours-of-sleep-a- night body was running on fumes.  Company and adrenaline had kept me going through Sunday, but Monday would be a different story.  I gathered my clothes and make-up and we headed for the front desk where they had a key waiting for me.  AS the woman explained the room/accommodations to me and gathered up some toiletries, I began to cry.

            This is really the first time I had had a chance to cry, and as I let my fatigue escape my body, and the relief of a potential good-night’s sleep replaced it–tears just silently slid down my cheeks.  A security officer picked me up and showed me to my room.  As I set my things down and started pulling bobby pins out of my wedding hair-do, sobs came for a different reason.  I shook with fear and said out loud: “God, please make him ok.”  As I showered and readied for bed, the tears kept coming.

            Fortunately, I could crank the air conditioning and when my head hit the pillow, I was quickly asleep.  Even though my bed was so soft in the middle I thought it might break, and my pillow was only slightly softer than a brick, I slept–uninterrupted for almost six hours.  I was so thankful for that “full” nights sleep.