As I said in my last update, surgery went well...but little else following that did.

To start from the real beginning, two weeks ago when we began the process of planning for surgery, we told the nurses that K could not have Codine (allergic) or Morphine (does nothing for the pain). We knew this well, mind you, because we had just gone through this three weeks earlier after her first surgery (correction: 4 weeks, 5 days, my wife tells me...but who's counting). The only drug that seemed to help at all was one called Delauden. At that time, we requested that be the pain medication to be administered following the surgery.

OK, fast forward to yesterday. When K checked in, she reiterated during the first pre-op interview what drugs worked, what she was allergic to, and what didn't. Later, she went through it again with two other nurses before I got there and then we both spoke with yet another nurse AND the anesthesiologist before surgery, being assured once again that they got it.

The surgery concluded at about 3:30 and we were moved to the room at about 5:00. As the nurse began to hook the pain drip to the IV, Karen casually mentions something about the Delauden. "Huh?" said the nurse. "The Delauden... for the pain," says Karen. "Uh...,"replied the nurse. We looked at the injector and in bold letters..."MORPHINE." This particular nurse had been told nothing and had no idea about anything that had transpired earlier, this being what the surgeon ordered.

With my wife's arm being satisfactorily deadened for at least four more hours, we casually asked the nurse to please work on getting the correct medication before the block wore off at 9:00. "No problem, I'll put a call into the surgeon," declares nurse Denise. An hour later, we call back to the nurse to check on the progress. She's not heard back from the surgeon. OK, we'll wait, but please stay on top of it. Another hour passes...nothing. Yet another hour goes by and the surgeon finally called in a prescription, but the pharmacy has to deliver it up. Long story a little shorter, it's 9:15 P.M., the block began wearing off at around 8:45 and by now has worn off completely. The pain strikes with a vengeance. I make my way politely, but with great determination down the hall to have a "chat" with one of the nurses. They hastily make their way down to the pharmacy, get the drug, and get it into my wife's IV at around 9:45 P.M. In the meantime, Karen is in absolute agony, trying to control the pain of having her arm sliced open and screws drilled into her bone through deep-breathing (you know, the Lamaze stuff that pregant women do), tears quietly streaming down her face. Me, I'm breathing deeply, but it's not pain (except for the hurt I feel having to helplessly watch this)...I'm trying to keep my cool in the midst of incompetence.

Finally, the pain begins to subside a half hour or so later after a couple of other minor issues, and I begin to settle into my recliner for a little sleep since I had to be up and at work by seven the next morning. The floor we were on looked almost like a hotel with these really pretty rooms, so I'm thinking that recliner over there should be pretty comfortable. As I wearily lower my tired bones into the chair, I'm thinking it's not too bad so I push on the arms of the chair to "recline." I say "recline" because it doesn't really recline, it's more of a...a tilt (body stays pretty much in a sitting position but rared back as if one is sitting in a rocket ship waiting to be shot into orbit...of course, I had already been into orbit over the problems with K's medication). Not only does this chair do nothing more than tilt, but as soon as you take your hands off of the arms of the chair...it untilts (as if one who was prepared to be shot into orbit was suddenly and forcefully dropped back onto the lift off pad). Giving up, I throw three little blankets, the thickness of a worn sheet, on the cold, hard concrete floor and settle in for a series of naps in between the visits paid by the hospitality committee every couple of hours or so.

All in all, it was a lovely experience.

Labels: David C. Price