Back to the order... I had ordered up a chicken fruit salad, which had romaine lettuce, grilled chicken, and many types of fruit -- Honeydew, cantaloupe, oranges, and bananas. Now, in retrospect, I can recognize the commonality between these fruits -- All have HIGH POTASSIUM levels. But at the time, I wasn't really with it enough to think about it.
So, I began to eat the salad... And within about 15 minutes, I became dizzy, and started to get extremely nauseous. Turns out, your body's protection against more potassium when it has too much already, can be sending it back out the way it came in! And that, my friends, was what was about to happen here.
I stood up to try to reach the bathroom, but was too dizzy, and knew I couldn't make it. I grabbed a small basin from the table next to the bed (knowing full well that it wasn't going to be big enough, but beggars can't be choosers)! As I started to return my dinner, the Nurse's assistant that I had given such problems to was walking by the room. Like a true professional, she ran for the room, grabbed a larger basin, swapped the two with me, and make sure that I didn't fall off of the side of the bed -- All in one quick move. Truly impressive, especially given the problems that I had inadvertently given to her earlier.
When all was said and done, I gave her my most sincere thanks, but she assured me that it was just her job -- Imagine that? I then knew immediately that this young person would become one of the great ones -- After feeling startled and upset about my reaction (although not a bit angry or upset with me, only for me), she then did not hesitate to help me at a time when most of us would have turned and walked the other way. Kudos to you, my friend, and know that your hard work that night was appreciated!
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3 comments:
Mike,
I was reading over more of your blog entries today. So rather than try to reply with separate comments to each post - relevant to a particular post, I’ll just condense them all here. Thanks in advance for your indulgence!
I know your frustration with delays and waiting hours to get moved to the ICU or wherever. I may have told you, I had my transplant at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania; everyone calls it HUP for short. Every time I needed to go somewhere for a test, CT scan, etc, someone would come and say it would be in about an hour. The inside joke was that they called this “HUP time.” There was some kind of exponential formula involved. If they said 1 hour, it would take 2. If they said 2 hours, it would take 4, and so on.
As to crying, well maybe you should get used to it. I am a 52 year old man. I was 48 when I got my transplant. I have cried more in the last 4 years than I did in the 40 years prior. I think most post transplant patients have this to some extent. When you really have time to just sit and think about how a donor saved your life, it can be overwhelming. And other recipients, your caregivers, and especially donor families will not think less of you for crying. If anything, they’ll admire your openness about your emotions.
Kayexalate, ah I had almost forgotten about that amazing substance. Thanks so much for reminding me! It was a few days after my transplant. You get lots (like never before) of blood work done in the days and weeks following a transplant. One day, the nurse comes in and says my potassium is low. So they give me some potassium. Later that day, after more labs, my potassium was high. So I get the Kayexalate. But since it was so soon after surgery, my digestive system was not yet at full speed. I was told that I had 15 minutes after the first dose to make something happen, or I was getting a second dose. Try as I might, nothing happened in 15 minutes. This seemed like the only time that “HUP time” didn’t apply. It was almost like someone had a stopwatch, and after 15 minutes and 2 seconds I was being given my second dose. 20 minutes later began an adventure I never want to repeat again.
So as I look back, I probably whined, bitched, and complained the whole time while waiting for, and then recovering from the transplant. But now it seems so far away. I would do it again in a second if I was told I needed another transplant. Do whatever you need to get through this. Write your blog. Cry. Throw things (not at your wife, though) you’re the one who knows best what it’s like for your situation. Just don’t ever give up hope, don’t quit on yourself. Maybe that sounds like self-help psychobabble, but it’s important.
Richard
Self help psychobabble? Not even close...
It sounds like the wise and sage advice of someone who has been there before, and who honestly doesn't mind sharing his experience to assist others. Trust me when I tell you that it is taken that way, and only that way. And if you get a moment, please take a look at the next post... I hope that it speaks for itself in terms of how much I appreciate your advice.
Haven't really laughed in a while -- But I'm not sure where I laughed harder as I read this... At the HUP time, or at your Kalexalate flashback. Sorry to bring you back to that fine moment!
Thanks again, my friend -- and I hope that it is OK if I refer to you in that fashion!
Mike,
I looked at your next post, I'll comment on it there. You have to laugh once in a while or you risk losing your sanity.
You are quite welcome, and can refer to me however you wish, but I am honored to be thought of as your friend.
Richard
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