Hospital - Day 1 - The Good Stuff

The nurse shift change occurs at 7am. The new nurse, R., was a guy. I was still under the influence of medication, but like any person hammered (drugged) and conscious I felt it necessary to prove how lucid I was. Whether I was making sense or not, R. seemed to respond to the questions without too much pausing. The order of business this morning was some tube removal and transfer to the hospital room.

At this point I had been in ICU for 12 hours. The tube down my throat had been removed, but the tube in my nose (drainage to my stomach), the 3 tubes in my abdomen (drainage), the catheter, the main line (IV to the jugular), pacemaker wire, and arm IV remained. I had other IV lines in me during the operation, but they had been removed earlier in the night.

I was on some general pain medicine, but for the tube removal R. administered some morphine. It didn't take long before I was flying pretty high. It's funny I was awake, but just barely. First, it was the nose tube. Imagine these two little tubes that go up your nose and then all the way down to your stomach. Then imagine the sensation of the ends of the tube dangling their way up your digestive track and out through your nose as it is being pulled out. You can feel the whole thing, but no pain.

The second set of tubes to go are the 3 drainage tubes used during surgery to clear mucus and other liquids that collect in the thoracic cavity. This time R. administered a little extra stuff. I can't remember the name, but he said it was short acting. Again, a good numb feeling overwhelmed by body. I was still awake and then R. started removing the tubes. Same odd feeling of the ends dangling their way to the opening. At that point R. must have stitched up the openings but I couldn't remember. From that point on the pain killer for which I can't remember the name became the "Good Stuff".

With the tubes out and me flying high on painkillers R. settled into some paperwork and I was drifting in and out of sleep. Then all of a sudden I caught a slight sensation in my nose indicating the proximity of coffee. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a tray with red cardboard cups and brown lids heading towards R. Out of my field of vision I heard "thanks, double-double right?". I figured I would see if I could get R. to share his coffee with me. I was still doped up, still had tubes coming out of my body and the only thing I could keep down was ice, but there was coffee in the house and it was morning.

The negotiation started with a simple request. Then a small plead. Then an appeal to "helping a brother out". Now that I think of it there wasn't much negotiating going on because I had nothing to negotiate with. After that realization, I tried guilt. "Come on R. I just had my chest cracked open. I'm lucky to be alive. You can't deprive a buddy of coffee." R. was nobody's fool. He gave me a spoonful of ice and asked me if I needed more painkiller. Its kind of funny when you think morphine is a second place for coffee.

After some time M. and my parents came in to visit. They shared the news that the surgery did not go as planned. Upon examination the surgeon was able to repair the valve and only 2 grafts were required instead of 3. Those famous words, "we'll only know when we get in there", came back and it was for the better. The big news was the valve. By repairing the valve it gives the possibility of not requiring any future valve surgery as well as no blood thinners. Pretty good news as far as I was concerned.

During the visit with M. and my folks I figured I'd give one last shot for the coffee. Guilt again was my tactic. "M., Mom and Dad, this is R. He's a really good guy. He was just about to share some of his coffee with me." Sadly, R. didn't go for it.

An hour or two later they transfered me to my hospital room. I met my first nurse, S. She set me up with some more crushed ice and some apple juice. I was still quite swollen from the surgery and my blood pressure was low. They started me on a diuretic and gave me some more pain killers. I drifted in and out of sleep. The night promised to be a busy one because I was still being checked every hour and some time early the next morning (4am) the catheter was going to be removed and some of the dressings were going to be changed.