DATELINE: CRMC - Through the night
Mar. 1st, 2008 08:24 amMy mother got out of surgery yesterday at around 3 in the afternoon. However, they wouldn't let us go see her.
At around 6, we were escorted into one of the private 'conference' room. At 7ish, the doctor finally came out an talked to us.
Seems the surgery went well. Four bypasses and a pacemaker install, and she didn't even need any extra blood.
The whammies hit afterwords.
1) Seems that 10 years on insulin, as well as a whole range of other medications over the years, had made her veins paper-thin. Including the veins in her legs where they usually take grafts from. While they went in okay, they have some concerns.
2) The heart attack wasn't just a heart attack. It was a full-blown cardiac rape-and-aggrivated-assault-with-intent. Two of the four chambers were badly weakened, and they have concerns about this.
3) Now, my mom is fairly obsese (I nearly sucker-punched the doctor when he tastefully said, "We had such problems with her being so gigantic.." - Yes, it's true, but you really don't need 'Yo Mama's So Fat..' jokes at this stage of the game), and they think that, during the attack and the surgery, that some of her bowel may have died. Because of the size and weight, they couldn't be certain without more surgery, and they're not hot on that option at the moment, because....
4) Acidosis. If you don't read the linked Wikipedia article, normal acid levels are between 7.30-7.45 pH. Mom was pushing a 7.0, and only when they were using meds to up it. Normally, not a huge deal, but dealing with a condition that can result in substatial cellular damage when you've just had your chest and legs ripped apart doesn't exactly inspire hope.
The doctor was pretty grim. You have to love it when a doctor says, flat out, "It's not looking good. She may not even make it thorugh the night." Then, after a 10-15 second pause, "But we're not quitting on her..."
Meh.
Well, I crashed out in the Surgery Waiting room overnight (Note to other hospitals - If you don't have a large, quiet waiting room with nice comfy recliners: Get one.) as the ICU waiting room was... cramped and depressing. A quick trip down to the hotel cafeteria for breakfast and a trip out to 7-Eleven for a toothbrush, comb, deodorant, and some asprin, and I'm here again.
At least they got wireless, even if they're homepage doesn't come up on the net.
And Mom's still here, too. She looks like shit warmed over, but she is a tough old bitch.
It's still pretty grim. They're keeping her under until there are signs of improvement, so she's been out now over 24 hours. Doc said that when things change, they're going to change fast. Good or bad.
So I'm here for the duration...
-DH
At around 6, we were escorted into one of the private 'conference' room. At 7ish, the doctor finally came out an talked to us.
Seems the surgery went well. Four bypasses and a pacemaker install, and she didn't even need any extra blood.
The whammies hit afterwords.
1) Seems that 10 years on insulin, as well as a whole range of other medications over the years, had made her veins paper-thin. Including the veins in her legs where they usually take grafts from. While they went in okay, they have some concerns.
2) The heart attack wasn't just a heart attack. It was a full-blown cardiac rape-and-aggrivated-assault-with-intent. Two of the four chambers were badly weakened, and they have concerns about this.
3) Now, my mom is fairly obsese (I nearly sucker-punched the doctor when he tastefully said, "We had such problems with her being so gigantic.." - Yes, it's true, but you really don't need 'Yo Mama's So Fat..' jokes at this stage of the game), and they think that, during the attack and the surgery, that some of her bowel may have died. Because of the size and weight, they couldn't be certain without more surgery, and they're not hot on that option at the moment, because....
4) Acidosis. If you don't read the linked Wikipedia article, normal acid levels are between 7.30-7.45 pH. Mom was pushing a 7.0, and only when they were using meds to up it. Normally, not a huge deal, but dealing with a condition that can result in substatial cellular damage when you've just had your chest and legs ripped apart doesn't exactly inspire hope.
The doctor was pretty grim. You have to love it when a doctor says, flat out, "It's not looking good. She may not even make it thorugh the night." Then, after a 10-15 second pause, "But we're not quitting on her..."
Meh.
Well, I crashed out in the Surgery Waiting room overnight (Note to other hospitals - If you don't have a large, quiet waiting room with nice comfy recliners: Get one.) as the ICU waiting room was... cramped and depressing. A quick trip down to the hotel cafeteria for breakfast and a trip out to 7-Eleven for a toothbrush, comb, deodorant, and some asprin, and I'm here again.
At least they got wireless, even if they're homepage doesn't come up on the net.
And Mom's still here, too. She looks like shit warmed over, but she is a tough old bitch.
It's still pretty grim. They're keeping her under until there are signs of improvement, so she's been out now over 24 hours. Doc said that when things change, they're going to change fast. Good or bad.
So I'm here for the duration...
-DH