We haven’t had the TV on much at all this hospital stay. Either there’s always activity with nurses and doctors coming in, or we’re on our phones. Last night, I was complaining to Amanda about how, at home, she always has to have the TV to go to sleep, but here she doesn’t need it. I can’t stand TV in the bed. I then turned one of my shows on and proceeded to fall right asleep; she made sure to chastise me about that when I woke up to turn it off!
I emailed the transplant coordinator last night trying to get the social worker’s info so I could ascertain the wound vac status. When I woke up, I had a message in my inbox. I then fired an email off to the social worker. She quickly replied that she was out of the office, so I got ahold of her counterpart and left a message.
The hospitalist came by and was kind of a pill. I think she was mad that we talked with the transplant team about Amanda’s diuretic; why wouldn’t we? They control her meds regularly! We talked about discharge and pain management, but she didn’t like our suggestion. Amanda has been taking pain medication every 2 hours since the surgery. She literally has a sponge inside her chest, so it’s going to take a good bit of pain medicine for your average Joe. Much less someone who has a low pain tolerance and a high narcotic limit. From our experience, she’ll likely need to alternate different pain meds to keep the pain at bay.
We were still waiting for the PICC line to be placed. They finally said someone was on their way to get her for it. First, they needed a pregnancy test, we both laughed when they said that. She had just had one a few days ago, and there was no funny business going on while she just recovering from surgery!
Amanda wanted to shower before getting the PICC; they are a pain to wrap and shower with. I already ordered a shower cover for home that was delivered today. We also got cover for the PICC. We laughed, remembering a time at a store where a dad was staring more than his kid at the lines hanging out off Amanda’s old PICC lines. The the son asked what is that for?
They were waiting for her to jump in the transport bed before she was even out of the shower and then whisked her off. It was my shower time after that, and to no surprise, someone came by, the power of a shower! It was just housekeeping, though. And funny enough, just as I was typing that, they came back by as I was telling Amanda how someone had already been while I was in the shower! The housekeeping lady laughed, speaking in Spanish but understanding my English, saying she came and just touched up while I was in the shower.
Everyone then came by, the Transpant team, ID, and I spoke to the social worker all while Amanda was gone. All of them working toward getting us out today. I voiced concern about leaving late this afternoon with a long drive ahead; everyone was fine with us leaving tomorrow. I also talked with ID about closing the wound and how we weren’t really comfortable with home health in our area. She said it was the surgeon’s decision on that and deferred to him.
Amanda still wasn’t back, and it was almost 11, the cut-off for a Starbs promotion. We’re racking stars up for our free travel coffee! So, I ran over to grab some coffee for us both before she got back. She was gone a while and came back with a warm pack on her arm. The IV had infiltrated while they were placing the PICC. They also gave her some meds while she was down there, which made her nauseous, too. She wasn’t interested in the coffee, so I had some left or an afternoon iced coffee.
Not long after Amanda got back I had a friend text me some horrible news. A coworker of mine was in a head-on collision just east of Brackettville and was killed; I was so shocked. I wasn’t close with him, but he was just a genuinely good guy and I really liked him. I’ve just been torn up about it; I feel so bad. His wife and 3 kids were in the wreck, and all survived but were headed to the hospital.
It was getting late in the afternoon, and I needed some lunch. Amanda was still queasy but not bad enough to pass up a refresher from Starbs! So, I ran out to get her one and picked up a wrap for myself. I don’t know how people afford to eat out all the time; $11 for a wrap is crazy. Ignore the fact that I get us Starbucks multiple times a day and gripe about food cost. If you ask Amanda, that is out of a different budget, though!
The social worker and I had been talking back and forth about the pharmacy delivering the antibiotics and all the supplies that come with the PICC line. Also, about the wound vac being delivered and finding a home health agency. She was just waiting on an ETA for the wound vac but was fairly confident it would show up today. Home health was a different story; the one we had used before rejected care because of the wound vac, as well as many others.
Amanda and I were apprehensive about the whole home health thing anyway, so I texted our primary care doctor and asked for a recommendation. It’s nice to have doctors’ phone numbers for times like this. We never abuse this and usually only use it in emergencies or when we can get ahold of them through the office. He told me of a wound care doctor at the hospital.
I called and set everything up, checking our insurance coverage and making the first appointment. I touched base with a social worker to let her know I had that all set up, and she said, do you want a job? Laughing, she said she knew all the home health people in Eagle Pass; this was after talking with them all in Del Rio and Uvalde, too.
After talking with the Uvalde hospital and wound care office, she was pleased with them. She said they had other transplant patients in that area who may need the service. Ever since my dad received care in the newly built hospital, we have loved it. They took really good care of him the weeks before he passed, and Mom when she had cancer treatment as well.
The social worker and I had both been busy getting things lined up. There were a lot of moving parts to get us out of here, so I started early this morning. At least everyone is working for the same goal: getting us out of here.