A Disaster I Minimized

  

This entire situation has been a disaster. I didn't explain it all, either on a blog or to a friend with whom I exchanged texts. I'm afraid I left my friend thinking I was a major wimp after I had insisted that I wasn't. He was kind enough not to have called me on the inconsistency of my words.

I got a lousy gastroenterologist by the luck of the draw. I managed to pull the alternate prep routine of really well, bau all the alternate prep, authentic prep, or anything else could not make a not-competent practitioner competent.

It's  convoluted story. I will strive to stick to the chase so that this tome isn't 5,000 words long.

I felt while looking at the lesion on the monitor that it would heal with antibiotics and did not require cauterization. I recognize that I was not the board-certified specialist on the case, but still, a conscious patient usually gets an element of a voice in what procedure is used.  He, whom I have nicknamed Dr. Strangeglove, then went on to inexplicably blast the lesion with a flow of air so powerful as to possibly create a small puncture would where the lesion was in the transverse colon wall. The wall of the colon was noticeably thinner in the place where the legion was. There was no reason to power-wash it with air. I screamed. The nurse-anesthetist hit me with a stronger dose of fentanyl without waiting for the doctor to request it, which angered him. 

A catheter containing a scalpel, just in the event that it had been needed, had been inserted into my colon. When Strangeglove removed it, he managed to create a significant cut in my bottom. I screamed when that happened as well. He told me to shut up. The nurse-anesthetist felt that the would should have been sutured. She and Strangeglove argued extensively over whether or not the scalpel had ever left the catheter sleeve to enter the actual colon. This would have increased the chance of the would being infected. The nurse anesthetist, against the doctor's orders, applied a local anesthetic and scrubbed the wound before using the butterfly closure Strangeglove insisted upon. She gave me a tetanus shot even though he said it wasn't necessary.

I had been given enough fentanyl that the pin from the internal wound was manageable at the time. i wasn't given additional painkillers. At about 6:00 p.m. the pain became unmanageable. I called Dr. Strangeglove's answering service. He didn't return my call until almost midnight. He said there was no indication that I needed additional pain medication. 

Meredith had left to return home by then, and my brother as working. I tried driving myself to the hospital once but passed out just walking to the car. I evenntually got myself up and back to my condo. 

I telephoned the paging service of the two OBGYNS with whom I'm working in this rotation, though obviously not at the moment. I asked the operator not to make a special call to wake them but to give them my number and to tell them it was urgent if they received any other calls. On what I found out was the third call received by the two of them, the message was given. The female OBGYN returned my call. She told me to get to the hospital. I dragged myself back to the car, this time without fainting. At one point I had to stop because I was having dry heaves. With my luck, a police officer showed up and thought I was driving under the influence. When I passed out during the field sobriety test, he transported me the rest of the way to the hospital himself after calling the OBGYN's number on my recommendation. I had to talk fast to convince him not to call an ambulance.

The OBGYN hooked me to an IV and gave me Dilaudid, so I'm no longer feeling  though I might die immediately and don't really care if I do.

I had another CT scan, which showed very likely existence of perforation at the lesion. I'm scheduled for immediate sigmoidoscopy (the new gastro-woman says she will ensure the anesthesiologist  gives me whatever is needed to keep the pain manageable to nonexistent. If I'm lucky, they'll fix it with the sigmoidoscopy and tools. If not, we're looking at a laparotomy or laparoscopy, but I don't really care. All I really asked for was a bit of Vicodin. Stupid Dr. Strangeglove. I hate him even if hate is a very strong word.

I don't care whether or not anyone visits me. I'll be in a hospital where the minimum standard of patient care should be OK. As long as they bring me water when I need it and painkillers when I feel as though I'm dying, I will be happy.

My original plan was to be back at work by Wednesday. It my be more like Thursday or Friday before I make it, but I can do paperwork in bed if they bring it to me.