We watched a movie late last night. We’ve mostly been watching Grey’s Anatomy or just listening to worship music and playing on our phones. But Amanda has wore me out on Grey’s, so we watched a couple of movies yesterday. It’s a good thing our late-night movie wasn’t one that Amanda liked because she didn’t feel good for most of it. The night nurse, one of our favorites, gave her the new arrhythmia med. It didn’t take her long to get nauseous from it. The nausea medicine wasn’t ordered, even though she’d had it before, so we had to wait for the doctor to order it and the pharmacy to send it. So, for the majority of the movie, a long one, she felt bad waiting for the medicine and for it to kick in.
I woke up to an EP doctor, not the lead or the one covering for the weekend, talking to Amanda. They were fine with stopping the arrhythmia medication that caused issues, and there were a couple of other options, one she’d taken before long-term. Even with three medications to lower her rate, there seems to be not much of a change in her rate on or off the medications. The cardiologist fellow (the one Amanda calls Yang) came by and mentioned trying the medication Amanda was on before. While we are in the hospital, I’d rather try the new medication. If this is just a medication game, we can try the old one at home; we know it doesn’t have adverse side effects.
The cardio fellow mentioned getting up to walk to see how she tolerated it. Amanda has been up a couple of times around the room but hasn’t walked any. She really hasn’t even stood since we’ve been here more than five minutes. So, we’ll have to take it easy. I’ve still been on her case a little about it. I’m just looking to the discharge; I know the things that will hold us back or be an issue after we get out. I jokingly told her she needed to be up 25 times today. She said I don’t know if the nurse would agree with that. As the nurse walked in right then, she said yes, I agree!
As we waited for the cardio team, I stamped and put the return address on our Christmas cards. I picked them up last week on my way up. I know it’s a little late, but I think everyone will understand. Don’t get butt hurt if you don’t get one; we only have so many cards and addresses! I was going to post a picture and mention it to Amanda; she said, “No previews!”
Our cardiologist is gone this week, and a lady I didn’t think we knew was filing in. She ended up being a doctor Amanda saw but not me. Amanda said she was the first to let her listen to her new heart with a stethoscope, a special moment for her. I didn’t know her only because of the COVID rules. Otherwise, I would have been there. I could only be in the recovery/ICU room with her for one hour a day, whereas it had previously been 15 minutes at a time, five times a day. Can we all agree that the COVID rules were ridiculous?
I liked this doctor. She was friendly and mentioned that the EP team wanted to try a medication Amanda had already been on. I wanted to argue with them but didn’t; it would have been best if we ran the course and they could see for themselves. I just hope we move to the new medication, if we need it, before we leave the hospital.
After the cardio team left, Amanda got up for a walk. She made three laps around the floor. I asked the nurse walking with us how many feet it was around. She didn’t know but said 16 laps were a mile, so about a fifth of a mile. After the walk, her chest started hurting a bit. She held off on getting any pain medicine and ended up not needing any. This was a walk without any of the newer medications, so it will be a good baseline, 126 at the highest, to see what her heart rate is doing once we walk again.
We knew the plan was to get us to the “floor,” which meant to the transplant floor and out of the ICU. The hospitalist from the floor came to talk with us about getting moved up today. So, the dreaded packing must begin today. I started with the cards on the wall and excess stuff we just don’t need to take with us. I had to stop because Amanda was getting hungry! I went down and grabbed Salata. I tried yesterday, but they were oddly closed on the weekend. We made another three laps, her limit for now, before her chest starts hurting.
I finally got the gumption to take a load to the car and grab the box for the Christmas tree to bring back. At least the Yukon is parked closer, for now, I’ll move it to the cheaper garage closer to the hotel when it’s back open. On the way over, I passed an older couple. The gentleman said they needed elevator K to his wife, I wanted to tell them they were in the wrong place. I know no letter-designated elevator in St Luke or its connected hospital building. On the way back, they looked disappointed; they must have just found out they were in the wrong place. As I got into the building, everyone looked at me like I had a bomb, something carrying the Christmas tree box!
We’re officially getting out of here. The ICU team came by, barely poked their head, and said, “You’re getting out of here. It may be tomorrow, but we’ll get you a bed up there.” They didn’t care anymore since we were leaving. You could clearly tell they were done with us! To quote Curly Bill from Tombstone, “Well…Bye!”