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.

The Emergency Room

 

The Emergency Room

            There were a few things I noticed as we entered the ER.  First was that there were a lot of people back there.  When we got to his room, there were two women in there.  JohnDeere was wearing a neck brace and had several wires coming off of him to a monitor.  The room reeked of vomit as I noticed his bag of clothes, along with his boots, sitting in the corner.

            I went to his bedside when the women left, but I didn’t know what to say.  I just touched his arm and told him I was there and I loved him.

            Soon a doctor came in and told us that he had three skull fractures and that other doctors would be in to check him otherwise.  The phrase “he will probably get worse before he gets better” still rings in my head as they mentioned swelling and the possibility of having to drill a hole in his head to relieve the pressure.

            While we were waiting, I was comforted by the fact that he could horizontally spit a “loogie” into a plastic tray with normal force–it was then that I was sure he’d be ok!–or at least I was less worried.

            A trauma doctor looked him over next and said they he had no neck or spinal injuries–he had minimal scrapes–on his elbow, shoulder, and back–but as far as trauma was concerned he was ok.  Next, a neuro-surgeon would talk with us.

            The neuro-surgeon–Dr. Kachman, came to discuss his CT results with us.  He said that JohnDeere had three skull fractures, but only minor contusions and very minimal swelling.  They would be moving him to neuro-ICU and ordering a second CT scan for later in the morning.  The doctor said if it didn’t get worse, he was probably going to not need any surgery, but if he had swelling/pressure build up, that they would have to put a pressure gauge (he called it something different) into his skull–to monitor swelling and help administer medicine.  I hoped that didn’t have to happen. 

            While we waited, I could hardly stand the smell, so I reported to our friends in the waiting room often.  At one point all of our friends left and my mom came back to the room.  She says it was really hard to see big, strong JohnDeere just lying there like a blob of jelly.

            His speech was muffled and confused; he asked if he could “flip his wager” and said “Junior and Jim.”  At another point he said he “wished he could yell ‘bathroom’–why can’t I yell?”  It was then I realized he had to go to the restroom–and fearing they would give he a catheter, I informed an ER nurse.            She brought him a plastic urinal. She asked if I thought he would be more comfortable if I helped him–I told her that I wouldn’t be very comfortable. . .so My mother-in-law and I stepped out of the room.  A minute later the nurse came out claiming a false alarm–I guess he got nervous!

            His bed seemed so small and uncomfortable as the bars cut into his biceps, but it wasn’t long before he was moved to a new room and I followed him there.  The entire evening he had been fighting a neck brace, and after an adjustment from an ER nurse–and a warning from me that it was as comfortable as it could be: “Don’t move!”  He still asked the nurses, while being transported, if he had to wear that thing on his neck.  I heard them say “yes” in unison as they took him to his room and directed me to a lounge area.  They said it would take awhile to get him situated and they would let me know when he was set.

The "Oh Shit" Chapter

The “Oh Shit” Chapter (as named by Mater)

            I wasn’t three steps out the door when I had to refocus my eyes to realize that the helpless-motionless blob on the asphalt was JohnDeere.  I immediately turned around and walked back into the reception hall–I can’t stand to see things that are in pain, so I had to look away.

            As I covered my face, I sobbed (without the tears–I had sweat out all of my body fluid while dancing).  I just kept repeating “Oh my God” as I sent–“please let him be alive” prayers over and over.  Right away Chellie–and I think Jackie–came to me.  Chellie told me he was ok and supported me as my body shook.  The Jackie gave me the details:

            They had been riding in Kessie’s truck, taking the trash to the dumpster–then Dan (Jackie’s husband) and JohnDeere plopped on the tailgate to go get the leftover food.  Somehow, for some reason, JohnDeere fell off tailgate and landed on his head.  He had been passes out for a minute, but had never stopped breathing.  They had called an ambulance and “The Great” was checking him out.  I t took me a few minutes before I could go to him, and I was terrified that I would find a paralyzed vegetable surrounded by a puddle of blood, but of course I was overreacting.  When I got to him, he was moving–trying to sit up even, and talking–and fortunately the only blood was a small spot from his elbow.

            Seconds later the first responders arrived–after answering a few of their questions–someone convinced me to change out of my bridesmaid dress and prepare to go with him to the hospital.  I called my mother-in-law, Chellie called Mom, Mouth said he would get the truck home, and many other’s looked on.  After they had him strapped to the gurney was the first time I heard someone say ( I think it was Pam) that they had called the Samaritan. A moment of panic went through me as I argued “but that’s only for really seriously injured people.”  Pam responded by saying it was standard for anyone with a head injury–and that The hospital would be the best place for him.  Right away I wanted to know how I would be able to make sure he was ok if he was being taken away and I couldn’t go with him.  Pam and an EMT told me I would just have to wait and find out when I got to the hospital–of course I wasn’t comforted by that answer.

            “The Great” volunteered to drive me to the hospital and we were able to follow the ambulance out of the parking lot and as we pulled out, I asked “The Great” “What are the chances that he will be messed up for the rest of his life?”  Looking back I realize that she never really answered my question.  She told me that his eyes/ pupils were the same size (which is good), but slow to respond which could be bad.  She said he could move all of his limbs and that he was going to the best hospital so he should be okay.

            After we turned at the first intersection, the procession of ambulance, fire truck, police cars, and us all stopped.  I panicked as I saw someone get out of the fire truck, but “The Great” reassured me that they often stop so they can start an IV.  Soon we took off again.  I noticed that I was shaking involuntarily as I felt nauseous.  I also noticed that “The Great” was nervous; gripping the wheel with two hands and trying to hurry, but not speed.  I remember passing a billboard at the body shop that said “Hit a deer–we’ll fix your car and give you a turkey!”– It made us giggle!  Once we were downtown “The Great” realized she had driven all the way through Fort Wayne with the bright lights on.

            When we arrived at the hospital, she found a nice close parking spot and we rushed to the information desk.  They told us that he was not yet in the system, but that he possibly had just landed, and they would be taking him to the ER, so we went there.  Soon a short little lady greeted us, brought me JohnDeere’s keys, wallet, and phone–and told me she had already scanned his license and insurance card and that someone would come out soon to get some more information.

            While we waited for others to show up, and to get more information, we watched a hunting show with birds and wildebeest.  I was, for some reason, annoyed by it.  Soon, My mother-in-law walked in followed by My father-in-law–still in his Troxel uniform.  We gave them an update and they told us that they had been at Jerry and Jackie’s helping Eli load up his horse when I called.  They drove here so quickly that they were pulled over by a police officer just outside of Fort Wayne on US 30 near Sweetwater Sound.  They readied license and registration as the officer slowly made his way to the truck.  The officer asked “Are you having a good night?”  My father-in-law answered, “Actually, not at all–they just took my son to the hospital and I’m trying to get there.”

“Really?”

“Yes. . .”

“Go!!”  And the officer let them drive away.

            Soon after they arrived, my mom and Kyle came in, and then Vester and Kessie.  It was at this point I realized “The Great” still had her bridesmaid dress on.  The short lady came back and told me he had been vomiting–I then sat down with a man who entered employer information into a computer.  Soon someone allowed my father-in-law, My mother-in-law, and I to go back and see him.

           

Broken Head--Introduction

Through the miracle of find and replace, I was able to change names and other personal information in my Broken Head story.  I will post a new chapter each day.  Sorry, I don't really have any pictures to go along with most of the posts.

It all began with gel and hair spray–remember this as an important component of the story.

            JohnDeere and I stood up with CJ and Mr. Painter at their wedding on September 25, 2010 at Our home town United Methodist Church.  Us girls showed up at 9:00 a.m. to have our hair done.  I took my laptop to make a CD to play in the sanctuary while people were being seated, and I brought some papers to grade to keep me occupied since I was sure there would be down-time.  Of course there wasn’t any extra time because we were all talking and doing our make-up, but hey, I made an attempt.

            Around lunchtime I went to help Pam get things around.  I talked to the boys as they headed out to inspect A friend’s wrecked truck.  The night before, in the Collamar curves, after a night of partying, he ran off the road and hit a tree. 

            They came back, we ate, I made JohnDeere’s hair pretty, we went through the ceremony, stood in the receiving line (my feet hurt so badly I wanted to cry–so I begged Chellie to switch me shoes as she went through the line), finished pictures at the church, then headed to the reception hall (PAL Club, A neighboring town).

            When we arrived at the reception, we took more pictures, ate, and I gave a speech about how marriage is like a wedding cake.  I said that even though both people represent different layers of different flavors, their ultimate job is to support each other and keep it sweet!  Little did I know that I would soon eat those words–literally.

            We finished off the night drinking and dancing.  JohnDeere and I had fun as we worked up a sweat “dirty” dancing–then he was my own personal air conditioner as we slow-danced and he sweetly blew the sweat off my brow.

            Everybody seemed to leave early and we started cleaning up around 10:00 p.m.  We threw away all of the tablecloths, put up the tables and chairs, and cleaned up all the vases.  As things were finishing up–around 11:00–we’re nothing if not efficient–I was in the kitchen searching for leftover snacks.  I loaded up a coffee filter with Chex mix and headed back into the main room to see what else needed done–secretly hoping they said “nothing; you can go home.”

            As I munched and walked across the room to find someone (it seemed like no one was around) I noticed a few people walking out the big door at the other end of the building.  I passed Lydia (Mr. Painter’ niece) and I said, “Where are they going?”  She said that her dad had come in and said something about a guy falling out of a truck and they were going to see.  I asked, “They’re going somewhere/leaving–or do WE have an emergency?”  She said, “I think it’s here,” so I headed out, too.  I knew if it was at the reception it meant someone I cared about was involved.

Busy

I am pretty busy right now with school and my scrapbooking hobby.  My next scrapbook will be of John Deere's broken head--it has only taken me a year to get around to it.  Sunday I typed up the pages from my journal that I kept while he was in the hospital.  I considered putting it on here, but I have some pretty specific and personal details.  So I guess I will just have to print copies for anyone interested in reading it.

I also have spent a lot of time getting ready for the Meats Judging season.  Yes, I'm an English teacher, but I help the FFA chapter at my school with a Measts team.  People look at me pretty funny when they walk by my room after school and see giant pictures of raw meat and animal carcasses projected on the screen.  Last Saturday we had a "Meat Meeting" barbeque at my house.  It was cold and windy, but fun! We grilled steak and hung out.  I was glad to have a chance to meet many of the students' parents.

My Master's Degree has kind of taken over my free time as I am in week four of my 6th course.  Only four more to go and I will be finished--I will be a much happier person in April when I am done!

Parent teacher conferences are this week--sarcastic--yeah!  Next week I am taking my students to see a live production of Julius Caesar--then we have fall break.

Over fall break, I am going to a 24-hour scrapbooking "crop" with CJ. I can't wait!  I just got a Cricut Expression--actually it should be delivered sometime today.  I am sure it could keep us occupied for 24+ hours. 

John Deere is working harvest hours (7:30-6 weekdays and 7:30-4 on Saturday).  He now has fireman training two nights a week, so there are some days when I don't see him at all.  I miss him and worry about him working so much.  Today I said it would be nice to have a day to sleep in and do nothing--he said maybe Christmas!

 

The Story of Ricky Retardo

Doesn't he look like a winner?!

 Last spring John Deere and I got feeder calves--actually one was for us and one was for Chellie's tenth year of 4-H.  I picked Fiesty Bob--he was cute and awesome. Chellie picked another one that died three days later.  When John Deere went back to the farm to find a replacement--he brought home Ricky Retardo!  Ricky had droopy ears and a twisted body, but he was the only one left that was alive and not spoken for.  He was scared of his own shadow and would have a spaz attack any time we got near him.  He was infuriating.

Imagine this with vibrating eyes-- 1/2 a second before he flopped over!

One rainy day--not long after we released the young calves into the "feedlot" I walked out to check on them.  They were resting in the barn and I apparently scared them because they hopped up and ran outside.  Feisty Bob was smart enough to stop after a few steps--when he realized that I wouldn't hurt him.  Retardo, on the other hand, did not put his brakes on until he saw the barbed wire fence--well, it was raining, he was running on cement, and by the time he decided to stop he had built up enough momentum that he fell and slid underneath the fence.

He stood up, bewildered, and realized that he was not where he was supposed to be.  He tried walking back through the fence as I called John Deere and said "The dumb one is out!"-- he told me he would be home ASAP! 

Ok, so in the meantime I just have to keep Ricky Retardo from freaking out and running away.  I attempted to sneak up to him with a halter-he was small, so if I could just get close enough to put him in a headlock, I think we would be ok.

Well, just when I almost had him, John Deere came down the road in his noisy truck and Ricky Retardo took off!  He ran all around the barn yard and 1/2 way through the field before we finally body slammed him up against the barn, put a halter on him, and drug him back to his pen.  (Don't tell PETA).  I was sure he was going to die--his eyes vibrated in his head for the next few hours as he calmed himself down.

Fortunatley, he didn't die.  Chellie showed him at the fair where he was on his best behavior--then, so we wouldn't be stuck with a stupid 1500 pound animal, she sold him.  Unfortunately, a friend of our family bought him--they didn't realize his namesake--Good Luck!

Note:  I know many of you have heard this story before, but it seems like we can all use a good laugh every now and then!

Our little corner of the world

 I am not as devoted as Prairie Mother when it comes to posting--especially not devoted enough to post a weekly Sunday devotion, but I do want to talk about how much my church family means to me.  As a child I attended church regularly until my step-dad was upset by the church taking a female pastor.  After that we didn't go back as a family.  I went sporadically as a high school student with my friends, but never had a home church until 6 years ago. 

 When John Deere and I started dating, he took me to church--the church that his parents and grandparents have attended for years.  I loved it and have since been baptized there.  But, our church is very unique.  First of all, we only have two children-- I am the only woman at my church who is not a mother, and only one of two who is not a grandmother.  Even though we do not have any chronologically young, we are young at heart!  Our Sunday school class is currently working through a series of books aimed at teenagers and loving every minute of it!  Yesterday we covered only 1/2 of a lesson on dating!

 Pictured above is our former pastor.  He is the sweetest man--and his tell-it-like-it-is personality is priceless.  I could say that about most of our members.  I have never been part of such a "church family"-- actually in the past when people referred to their "church family" I thought it was kind of bogus--in my experience as a youth the congregation was just a bunch of people who sat near one another to listen to a sermon--this place is very different.

With such an elderly congregation--with few new members, I worry about the future of our church. But, while we are together, I will enjoy everyone of them and thank God for my church family!