Bizarre Hospital Experiences

denistd

Carolinagal said:

On about the third day of my
On about the third day of my dad's stay in ICU the nurse asked us what we had been using on his back. With a very puzzled look on her face my mom asked what they were talking about. My dad leaned forward, he had a burn that was at least 7 inches across his back. It was black and very inflamed. He had been burned by something used during his 15 hour surgery. The nerves signaling to his brain must have been firing like crazy. The burn left a big bubbled up scar across his back.Of course, the dr. had a prescription for that. In his typical fashion my dad said it wasn't that bad. And I guess after all he'd been through, what's a little third degree burn?

Funny things
The day of my 2nd chemo. I had my radiation and was then taken to a hospital room for my 2nd chemo. I got into bed and was waiting for the nurse to iv me and get things going, I never had a port, just an Iv every time. I left my tube of Biofene cream, for putting on my neck after rads, the nurse came in and asked if I needed anything, I said sure, can you cream my neck for me? OK. I told her it was by the sink. She came over and started creaming, starting at the back, it felt good, when she got around to the front of my neck I noticed a minty smell, asked to see the tube, it was my toothpaste she was lathering on. Took a little time to wash off and put on the real stuff. next morning at rad I told the techs what happened. When I completed my 35 rads the techs gave me my certificate, my mask and a tube of toothpaste,"for my neck".

staceya

lizziek said:

Bad hospital experience
Please let us know the name of that hospital and the ENT. Others should be warned. Call the Department of Health in your State and report what you told us. They should do an investigation. If no one tells it will never get better.

I agree! Also call the
I agree! Also call the hospital's risk manager/complaint department and file an incident report. This was an OSHA violation, among other things.
Stacey

soccerfreaks

Hope and Humor!
As you say, RF, the stories are spread all over the place and I am certain I have shared these somewhere, probably in my blog here, but these are two worthy of consideration, the first of the 'geez' nature, the second of the ROFLMAO nature, depending on whether you are asking my wife or me.

1. After a 15 hour surgery and four days of induced coma in the ICU, I was transported to CICU for the remainder of my two week stay. Like in the book/movie Coma, I was suspended over my new bed (unconscious) while the nurse I guess went off to find the proper folks to lower me into a good position on the bed. A couple of hours later, my wife, a nurse of long and respected standing at that very hospital, was permitted to come in and see me.

Lo and behold, I was still suspended in mid-air (thankfully unconscious, as far as I can recollect). The nurse had apparently moved on to other things, leaving me, dare I say it, hanging.

My wife was not particularly pleased and that nurse was not long for that hospital.

2. While in recovery for the head/neck cancer surgery, I was on some pretty powerful pain medications. At first it was IV Ativan, which caused psychotic imaginings, and then an elixer of others. In any event, I was rather not myself most of the time. My wife, being a nurse at the hospital, was permitted to bring a cot into my room and to sleep next to my bed every night. At the time of this particular episode, she was busy with her chain saw, cutting Zs. Me, I had awakened and decided I needed to pass a bit of gas, in the middle of the night.

Blame it on what you will, but I miscalculated to a rather greater degree than one might imagine in normal circumstances. I buzzed for my night nurse, a young lady with long blonde hair and an equally fair disposition and explained my situation to her, either over the intercom or in person, I cannot remember. Her instruction was to go to the bathroom, take off my robe and pants (Yes! I was a bigshot! I even had pants!) and to buzz her back for the exchange.

Clearly neither of us had thought this through. Or maybe we had. I, of course, cleaned myself up, wrapped up my soiled laundry and met her in the middle of my dark room, buck naked, laundry in hand. We were making the exchange, my soiled laundry for clean stuff, when my wife woke, popping up from her cot to see what sort of trouble her husband was getting into.

Her initial slumbersome perplexity gave way almost immediately to a roar in the otherwise quiet night. I did not see that nurse again but was assured that she had not lost her job due to what was, after all, diligence and kindness. And from then on, I kid you not, my wife, when she went to sleep on that cot, had a string connected from her ankle to mine, so that I could not 'wander off' as she put it.

Hope and Humor, folks.

Take care,

Joe

soccerfreaks

one more and i quit, i promise
I can't help it, I'm a ham and I have to tell you one more story, then I'll quit, I promise:

This one is in honor of delnative (Jim), who is experiencing, apparently, some of the same stuff that ultimately happened to me: new cancer (hopefully) in the lung. I was recovering from a lobectomy and really expecting to go home the next day when all hell broke loose and I felt the most excruciating pain of my life. As they rushed in and unhooked every device and needle attached to me, including my drain collectors (lung cancer survivors of surgical experience will know what I mean), they first feared a pulmonary embolism and then MRSA.

It was only MSSA, but it hurt like the dickens and I ended up spending another entire month in the hospital, but that is beside the point.

While recovering from THIS, if I had to take a whiz (pardon me, ladies), I would simply use a pitcher they gave me, so that I would not have to get up in the middle of the night, for example, and drag all of my stuff with me into the bathroom (following the diagnosis of MSSA, I had another lung surgery, and ended up with three drain pipes where formerly there were two, and had to carry these along with the usual IVs with me everywhere I went...and the pipes were connected to a rather cumbersome drainage box that had to come along).

So, one night, I'm going to the bathroom (having learned my lesson about the difference between gas and the important stuff), and my wife is sleeping on her sofa (we definitely got the upgrade for this one: no cot for wife this time!), and I'm dragging my stuff in there and I'm doing fine (into the bathroom, not to her sofa, which would have annoyed her immensely).

Bear in mind before I continue that I teased my nurses mercilessly, but humorously. By that I mean that they could not remove my catheter without me making some suggestive remark about it, even if my penis was a shriveled, modest caricature of its former self. I DID tease them. Hope and humor, you know?

I don't know about your hospital, but even if this palatial suite of a room (I told my wife it was the most expensive room I'd ever rented for our Valentines Day night) was top of the line, they seemed to have an obsessive fear of people stealing their toilet paper. There was actually a keyhole on the box holding the paper, and since the staff was so efficient (and I was not much of a user at the time, if you know what I mean and I think you do), it was constantly FULL.

What we later decided, my wife and I, was that it was the process of bending over for the paper, and only able to pull one, maybe two sheets at a time, that led to the travesty. I am not sure that it led to the travesty, but I am sure that this is so: perhaps the most honest labor of my life (I worked with computers, after all) was pulling those sheets of toilet paper out.

Our theory, to continue, was that I, recent lobectomy victim, I mean survivor, more recent MSSA and subsequent second lung surgery survivor, I mean victim, had problems with bending over for an extended period of time to pull sufficient quantities of toilet paper to fulfill my humble needs. I stand by that to this day.

I was in their presidential suite, if you will, and could not wipe my posterior without a task force.

Needless to say, I struggled on without calling for help. When in that position, one is after all predisposed to insist on willing oneself to a proper self-actualized conclusion, which is to say that one has to have enough pride to at least wipe one's own, um, posterior, or one is doomed.

This I did. I rose. I dressed. My own personal soccer pajamas! (I think now that if you only get a robe, you are in great shape. If you get hospital pants...uh oh. If you get to wear pajamas from home, turn out the lights... it is sort of like how, when I was going through the head/neck ordeal, I got all of these Lance Armstrong books, but when I was going through the lung thing, they switched to religious books and rosaries ... that's when you know you are hosed or close to it.)

I rose. I left the bathroom, pipes and IV and drain box and all of the baggage in tow and lost my breath completely.

I could not speak, I could not cry. Eight feet away my wife was sleeping and I could not say anything to her. I could not breathe. I could not utter a sound. I could not MOVE. I could not MOAN. I stood there, looking at her, wondering how I could drag all of my stuff over to her, when somehow she woke, saw my face, knew what was happening, and rang for staff.

The nurses came, they did their thing. They calmed me, they got me breathing, and then one of them, one of the ones I was always joking with, said, "Man, you must have really been straining in there."

Ah, payback!

Hope and Humor!

Take care,

Joe

Donna70

soccerfreaks said:

one more and i quit, i promise
I can't help it, I'm a ham and I have to tell you one more story, then I'll quit, I promise:

This one is in honor of delnative (Jim), who is experiencing, apparently, some of the same stuff that ultimately happened to me: new cancer (hopefully) in the lung. I was recovering from a lobectomy and really expecting to go home the next day when all hell broke loose and I felt the most excruciating pain of my life. As they rushed in and unhooked every device and needle attached to me, including my drain collectors (lung cancer survivors of surgical experience will know what I mean), they first feared a pulmonary embolism and then MRSA.

It was only MSSA, but it hurt like the dickens and I ended up spending another entire month in the hospital, but that is beside the point.

While recovering from THIS, if I had to take a whiz (pardon me, ladies), I would simply use a pitcher they gave me, so that I would not have to get up in the middle of the night, for example, and drag all of my stuff with me into the bathroom (following the diagnosis of MSSA, I had another lung surgery, and ended up with three drain pipes where formerly there were two, and had to carry these along with the usual IVs with me everywhere I went...and the pipes were connected to a rather cumbersome drainage box that had to come along).

So, one night, I'm going to the bathroom (having learned my lesson about the difference between gas and the important stuff), and my wife is sleeping on her sofa (we definitely got the upgrade for this one: no cot for wife this time!), and I'm dragging my stuff in there and I'm doing fine (into the bathroom, not to her sofa, which would have annoyed her immensely).

Bear in mind before I continue that I teased my nurses mercilessly, but humorously. By that I mean that they could not remove my catheter without me making some suggestive remark about it, even if my penis was a shriveled, modest caricature of its former self. I DID tease them. Hope and humor, you know?

I don't know about your hospital, but even if this palatial suite of a room (I told my wife it was the most expensive room I'd ever rented for our Valentines Day night) was top of the line, they seemed to have an obsessive fear of people stealing their toilet paper. There was actually a keyhole on the box holding the paper, and since the staff was so efficient (and I was not much of a user at the time, if you know what I mean and I think you do), it was constantly FULL.

What we later decided, my wife and I, was that it was the process of bending over for the paper, and only able to pull one, maybe two sheets at a time, that led to the travesty. I am not sure that it led to the travesty, but I am sure that this is so: perhaps the most honest labor of my life (I worked with computers, after all) was pulling those sheets of toilet paper out.

Our theory, to continue, was that I, recent lobectomy victim, I mean survivor, more recent MSSA and subsequent second lung surgery survivor, I mean victim, had problems with bending over for an extended period of time to pull sufficient quantities of toilet paper to fulfill my humble needs. I stand by that to this day.

I was in their presidential suite, if you will, and could not wipe my posterior without a task force.

Needless to say, I struggled on without calling for help. When in that position, one is after all predisposed to insist on willing oneself to a proper self-actualized conclusion, which is to say that one has to have enough pride to at least wipe one's own, um, posterior, or one is doomed.

This I did. I rose. I dressed. My own personal soccer pajamas! (I think now that if you only get a robe, you are in great shape. If you get hospital pants...uh oh. If you get to wear pajamas from home, turn out the lights... it is sort of like how, when I was going through the head/neck ordeal, I got all of these Lance Armstrong books, but when I was going through the lung thing, they switched to religious books and rosaries ... that's when you know you are hosed or close to it.)

I rose. I left the bathroom, pipes and IV and drain box and all of the baggage in tow and lost my breath completely.

I could not speak, I could not cry. Eight feet away my wife was sleeping and I could not say anything to her. I could not breathe. I could not utter a sound. I could not MOVE. I could not MOAN. I stood there, looking at her, wondering how I could drag all of my stuff over to her, when somehow she woke, saw my face, knew what was happening, and rang for staff.

The nurses came, they did their thing. They calmed me, they got me breathing, and then one of them, one of the ones I was always joking with, said, "Man, you must have really been straining in there."

Ah, payback!

Hope and Humor!

Take care,

Joe

night nurse nite mare
Hi,
Love these stories. Was back in hospital after my chemo and radiation with rigors and neutropenic fever. Most nurses were really good. Well one day the day nurse goes off and my new nurse was supposed to start the 4 to 12 pm shift. Waited and waited no nurse, no care, no meds. The assignment board was right next to my room so at 10 pm I finally go out in the hallway to check who the heck was my nurse. Well she is sitting on her rear like she has been all night and yells at me to get back in my room. My aide finally got her to come in and do the meds etc. She was not the worse. I was on reverse isolation meaning people were to gown up to protect me. I had an aide come in and shake her finger in my face and yell she hoped she was not going to catch anything from me. She could not understand the sign outside my room. I wanted to choke her as I explained the gowns were for my protection, not hers.One more story. After my esophagectomy, with Ng tube sewn in my nose, chest tubes, j tubes etc, I come out of surgery and am in pain, I press the automatic pain dispenser button but nothing happens, I try to tell my family but they think I am out of it, I tell the nurses and they tell me to press the button but I was pressing the gosh darn thing. Finally a good nurse came on duty and voila, my pain button magically started working after I told her. go figure. Also my first nurse was busy making football team signs instead of taking care of me. I could see her right from my bed. So glad to be transferred out of that post surgical unit. take care,
Donna70

DrMary

Choices, choices
Probably our best was Doug's allergic reaction to PPN. He'd had 2 chemos and was more than halfway through radiation. We checked him in to the local hospital for the weekend to try to get him rehydrated and also to get him injectable drugs, as he was keeping almost nothing down (and could barely swallow anyway). By Sunday, he was no better - they'd kept the IV very slow (we were used to 1 liter/hour for rehydration) and he hardly got any of his meds (they claim that they are allowed to be up to an hour plus or minus on meds - they are not the ones barfing or in pain, of course). We transferred him to the hospital where they were doing the radiation so he could get his Monday radiation.

Monday morning, he was in even more pain - it took about 12 hours to transfer his prescription information (even though the hospitals are both MedStar) and then they were all wrong. Monday night got even better - they started PPN, to which he immediately reacted. I had just reached home when he called - I could hardly hear him. The nurse was refusing to remove the IV - he was threatening to rip it out himself. She took it out but said she couldn't give him anything for the reaction that wasn't already on his chart - by this time, he was wheezing. Fortunately, one drug that WAS listed for him (as needed) was Phenergan, which is an antihistamine as well as an antinausea drug - I told her he was requesting it. She did that and then went off to find the doctor - I got there before he did - he was useless anyway. I stayed there that night.

All we kept hearing was that no one has ever been allergic to that stuff.

(His chemo doc came by later that afternoon, after Doug had faked swallowing for the speech therapist - he had heard the whole story the night before. Despite the fact that the doctor on call had said no one would clear us to leave, the chemo doc signed Doug out and told him to go back to outpatient hydration - much safer.)

sweetblood22

DrMary said:

Choices, choices
Probably our best was Doug's allergic reaction to PPN. He'd had 2 chemos and was more than halfway through radiation. We checked him in to the local hospital for the weekend to try to get him rehydrated and also to get him injectable drugs, as he was keeping almost nothing down (and could barely swallow anyway). By Sunday, he was no better - they'd kept the IV very slow (we were used to 1 liter/hour for rehydration) and he hardly got any of his meds (they claim that they are allowed to be up to an hour plus or minus on meds - they are not the ones barfing or in pain, of course). We transferred him to the hospital where they were doing the radiation so he could get his Monday radiation.

Monday morning, he was in even more pain - it took about 12 hours to transfer his prescription information (even though the hospitals are both MedStar) and then they were all wrong. Monday night got even better - they started PPN, to which he immediately reacted. I had just reached home when he called - I could hardly hear him. The nurse was refusing to remove the IV - he was threatening to rip it out himself. She took it out but said she couldn't give him anything for the reaction that wasn't already on his chart - by this time, he was wheezing. Fortunately, one drug that WAS listed for him (as needed) was Phenergan, which is an antihistamine as well as an antinausea drug - I told her he was requesting it. She did that and then went off to find the doctor - I got there before he did - he was useless anyway. I stayed there that night.

All we kept hearing was that no one has ever been allergic to that stuff.

(His chemo doc came by later that afternoon, after Doug had faked swallowing for the speech therapist - he had heard the whole story the night before. Despite the fact that the doctor on call had said no one would clear us to leave, the chemo doc signed Doug out and told him to go back to outpatient hydration - much safer.)

I have to say that all my
I have to say that all my nurses were great during my stay. Even the staff and nurses thru rads were great. Two of my nurses even gave me gifts on my last day of rads which was so nice of them.

I did remember one story from when I had my neck dissection.

The first day I was in the hospital I went in for exploratories because they were still trying to find my primary. They were knocking me out and looking in my lungs, throat, nose...... They didn't find anything and they told me that when I woke up and said that they were just going to keep me overnight and the scheduled my surgery for the next day. Okee dokee. I wanted that thing out of me pronto anyway. So while I was in recovery they were trying to find me a bed. No rooms at the inn apparently. Finally, they gave me a really nice small, but private room in Bush Pavillion and all the nurses there were so nice. Lots of attention and so efficient and pleasant.

After my dissection when I woke up in recovery I guess I was pretty out of it and I kept trying to sit up because I felt like I had to pee. They kept telling me when I said that - that I was fine and to just relax and lay down. So I did because I was afraid they would think I was being uncooperative. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and called the nurse and I told her I needed to get up to go pee. She tells me that I had a cath in. Well something ain't right. It wasn't in right apparently. Then I was so mad because I didn't know they were going to do that. Then I was thinking it made sense since my surgery was seven hours. And what the heck else are they doing while I'm knocked out??? The whole thing was embarrassing when I thought about it.

So they finally tell me I'm going to a room and it is in like an icu type of thing. I was hoping that it was going to be back in the room I had the night before, with my nice nurses. So my transport guy is wheeling my bed and it's quite a far ride. I feel like some kind of little bug on display as I'm being wheeled through the hallways and feeling like I'm being paraded for all to see. I was getting some pretty dicey and sympathetic looks which was making me nervous as I had not seen myself yet and was quite frankly, scared to look.

Anyway we finally are pulling up to my new home sweet home for a few days, and all I hear is someone screaming like a banshee. Cursing, shreiking and f-bombs flying. I am looking at my transport dude??????? Did we take a wrong turn and end up in the psych ward?? As he is wheeling me in I realize it's coming from my new room. I said, "You're not putting me in here, are you?" he was. Great.

I can already feel my blood start boiling because I do not want to be in there with a psycho room mate. I was by the window in the second slot. This woman is screaming at her doctor like a maniac. My transport guy and my male nurse are hooking me up to monitors and between them having to open my gown to hook up those wires on my chest and that embarrassment and the thought of being in a room with psycho woman I could feel I was redder than a beet and felt like I was going to have a panic attack.

Apparently psycho woman, was flown in by Life Flight because she was jumped and beaten. Gee, with her wonderful sweet demeanor, I cannot imagine why anyone would do that. The next thing I know, she threw her doctor out of the room. Great.

I was in pain, hungry and wasn't allowed to eat anything. I had the curtain pulled for some privacy and we only had one tv which psycho woman had turned to the food network. When I can't eat I cannot deal with food programs. But ok. Psycho woman was quiet so I figured let her watch it. Next thing I know, she is on the phone. Screaming like a banshee again and f bombs flying. My best friends actually showed up to see me and tho it was past visiting hrs my nurse let them come in to see me a bit. A welcome distraction from psycho woman who was still bit@hing on the phone, loudly.

My friends are wondering what the heck is going on. Next thing I know the psycho woman is yelling at my friend because his head blocked the
Tv set. My friends had to go anyway. When they left, I called the nurse to complain about this woman. She was on the phone again. Screaming and cursing. Seriously? I had a seven hour surgery and feel like poop. I just wanted to rest! Shut up. I asked the nurse for earplugs. She said that she would try and find some.

Eleven PM rolls around and psycho woman is back on the phone cursing and telling her friend what happened to her on the phone. At this point, I had enough. I said, "Excuse me, but do you think you could please be quiet and have some respect and realize you aren't the only person in this room?!" well, she started yelling all the more and called me a bit@h and that she could talk on the phone all night if she wanted to. Nope! That's it! I was ringing the bell like a crazy woman and told her that she needed to shut the eff up! At this point I guess it was getting pretty loud and a bunch of nurses and aids came in. My nurse was trying to calm me down and I apologized to her. She told me not to apologize that they understood and that they thought I was fine. The next thing I know I heard some guy talking to her, I guess he was some supervisor and he told her that she needed to behave herself and stop yelling and abusing staff and that if she wasn't happy with the care she was getting at Geisinger then they would be more than happy to pack her up in an ambulance and ship her to another hospital. That he could not have patients arguing in rooms and staff being treated poorly.

I did get those earplugs late that night and the next morning they transported me back up to the nice rooms back up in Bush Pavillion with the super nice nurses.

That woman was nasty and crazy and I know why someone jumped her and beat her.

connieprice1

Ratface, The craziest
Ratface, The craziest thing that ever happened to me was when I was in the ER for a ruptured appendix. The doctors were trying to figure out what the problem was and ordered an xray. After the xray the doctor asked when the last time I was in the hospital. I told him that I had not been in the hospital since the day I was born. He then asked when I got shot? I said I had never been shot and he said that I definitely had a bullet in me. He looked under the sheet looking for a bullet hole because he thought the reason I was in so much pain was because I had been shot earlier that day. After this, the nurse informed me that their was no room in the hospital and that I was going to be discharged. I asked if they would pump my stomach because it hurt so bad and when the black bile started coming out all of a sudden they found a bed and I had emergency surgery early the next morning. I got to keep the bullet as a souvenir. Thats right, it is still right where they found it. P.S. I remember where it happened. I was in a bar and this guy's girlfriend asked me if I would buy her a drink. The boyfriend walked out, when he walked back in he fired 2 shots at me from the front of the bar before the bouncers could grab him. I was so buzzed, I thought he missed!!! Homer

kingcole42005

For the most part my experiences have been great.
For the most part my experiences have been great. My onco is excellent, BUT my ent sucked big time. He did not want to perform surgery on the tumor under my tongue. He would tell me all kinds of crazy things. "You have something very wierd" uh yeah cancer dumb dumb. "we could wait and see or we could perform surgery, it's up to you" um ok I want the surgery because this thing hurts. We could perfrom a biopsy, BUT he decides to remove it leaving NO margins for my onco surgeon. While in the hospital after my surgery they neglected taping my gastric feeding tube in my nose, it was sewn in and I kept catching it on things and it eventually ripped out of my nose because of lack of tape. I also had one nurse refuse to feed me every two hours as I needed because being on the machine for some reason made me sick. The nurse wrote it up and had the nutritionist come and talk to me and tell me that I needed more nutrition? I wrote and complained about her and how utterly rude she was. Up yours Bianco! Also when I would buzz they would ask what I needed! I couldn't talk I just had the floor of my mouth replaced!

ekdennie

hospital stories
well, I have a lot of hospital stories, some funny, some not so much. I will give you the cliff notes version of my stories!
- post surgery to remove my tumor I started to have some major bleeding. the nurse seemed confused, she called the floor nurse who took her into the hall where she thought I couldn't hear her and said, "of course she is bleeding a lot, she had a golfball sized tumor removed, now get back in there and get that bleeding stopped!" they both came in and eventually it stopped...freaked me and my husband out. still amazed that they didn't realize you could hear them in the hall!

-in 2003, I had a deviated septum and rhinoplasty done to remove a bump on my nose. I was under light sedation...my surgeon was surprised when I woke up and asked him how things were going. I remember him telling his assistant to give me another dose...the assistant said, I only have one more to give her...he replied, well give it to her, she is awake. I then said hi to the assistant...he moved so very fast to give me that next dose! made me laugh! I had been warned before that it might happen, but I didn't think it really would. I guess that is what happens when you don't get general anesthesia!

-this one involves my husband!
our dermatologist found 8 abnormal moles in some unusual places, including between my husband's toes and on his backside, and near his, um, his you know. we went to a plastic surgeon to do the surgery. they gave us some medication to help make him relax before we came in and then they gave him a big dose once we were there. my husband who is normally pretty shy, kept flashing the nurse to see if she needed to see where the moles were. I felt so sorry for the nurse, but she just told him to wait for the doctor. he then flashed everyone who came into the room, and I was barely able to stop him from flashing the hospital's minister! I called him my flasher for about two weeks after. he didn't remember a thing!

JUDYV5

Waking up in v-fib
Waking up in v-fib after the inproper placement of the port. There was no pain, but there was a huge crowd of people around me with really strange looks on their faces. The port was removed and put in properly, but my heart is still a bit angry.(115 resting). Now I am very popular in the OR - everybody knows who I am.

JUDYV5

connieprice1 said:

Ratface, The craziest
Ratface, The craziest thing that ever happened to me was when I was in the ER for a ruptured appendix. The doctors were trying to figure out what the problem was and ordered an xray. After the xray the doctor asked when the last time I was in the hospital. I told him that I had not been in the hospital since the day I was born. He then asked when I got shot? I said I had never been shot and he said that I definitely had a bullet in me. He looked under the sheet looking for a bullet hole because he thought the reason I was in so much pain was because I had been shot earlier that day. After this, the nurse informed me that their was no room in the hospital and that I was going to be discharged. I asked if they would pump my stomach because it hurt so bad and when the black bile started coming out all of a sudden they found a bed and I had emergency surgery early the next morning. I got to keep the bullet as a souvenir. Thats right, it is still right where they found it. P.S. I remember where it happened. I was in a bar and this guy's girlfriend asked me if I would buy her a drink. The boyfriend walked out, when he walked back in he fired 2 shots at me from the front of the bar before the bouncers could grab him. I was so buzzed, I thought he missed!!! Homer

shot
Shot in a bar ... I live such a sheltered life.

abbimom

crazy
Crazy and scary story. That is like a scary dream. I couldn't imagine having to watch and not be able to say anything. I'm glad you made out okay and got a new doctor.

My hospital story is when I was having the PEG tube put in. The said they were putting me in twilight sleep and I told them that I'm on a lot of pain medications and I'm used to them and I was not sure if it would keep me out of it. Well during the surgery I wake up. I sit up and start screaming trying to tear out tubes and swinging at the nurses. I finally passed out from the pain and don't remember the rest. I warned them.

My other story was the same hospital stay and I had a pickline in. I told the nurse that my infusion nurses said to never use a larger needle than 10cc. I told the nurse this and she said that it was fine, guess what she blew my pickline and I had the fun experience of getting a new one. Why don't medical professionals really listen to us. We know our stuff, because it is our life.
Linda

sweetblood22

abbimom said:

crazy
Crazy and scary story. That is like a scary dream. I couldn't imagine having to watch and not be able to say anything. I'm glad you made out okay and got a new doctor.

My hospital story is when I was having the PEG tube put in. The said they were putting me in twilight sleep and I told them that I'm on a lot of pain medications and I'm used to them and I was not sure if it would keep me out of it. Well during the surgery I wake up. I sit up and start screaming trying to tear out tubes and swinging at the nurses. I finally passed out from the pain and don't remember the rest. I warned them.

My other story was the same hospital stay and I had a pickline in. I told the nurse that my infusion nurses said to never use a larger needle than 10cc. I told the nurse this and she said that it was fine, guess what she blew my pickline and I had the fun experience of getting a new one. Why don't medical professionals really listen to us. We know our stuff, because it is our life.
Linda

Eek, Linda!
That story nauseated me. I cannot deal with having proceedures. I get so scared.

When I had to have my dilation I woke up when they were trying to intubate me. I had to be put on a ventilator and I guess stuff was getting crazy. I was in pain and I was trying to push them away and take things out of me. I was scared to death. Then I don't remember what happened I guess they put me out.

They scheduled me for another stretching. (number 4) When I had my follow up with my gastro doc I told her I was too scared to do it again. She said, "I don't blame you, things got really hairy in there. Do you remember the shot in your neck?" Uhm, no!!? I told her to not tell me anymore. I still cannot swallow perfectly, but as long as I am not any worse than this, I'm not doing it again.

soccerfreaks

sweetblood22 said:

Eek, Linda!
That story nauseated me. I cannot deal with having proceedures. I get so scared.

When I had to have my dilation I woke up when they were trying to intubate me. I had to be put on a ventilator and I guess stuff was getting crazy. I was in pain and I was trying to push them away and take things out of me. I was scared to death. Then I don't remember what happened I guess they put me out.

They scheduled me for another stretching. (number 4) When I had my follow up with my gastro doc I told her I was too scared to do it again. She said, "I don't blame you, things got really hairy in there. Do you remember the shot in your neck?" Uhm, no!!? I told her to not tell me anymore. I still cannot swallow perfectly, but as long as I am not any worse than this, I'm not doing it again.

wow
my latest blog entry is sort of about this very subject sweet.

Went to GI Joe today and will, well, be moving forward...but I did take some time (with no problems as far as I am concerned, with docs) to step back and miss dilations I should have gone ahead and done.

Take care, my friend,

Joe