Back to where I left off…
It was between 7-7:30am when they stopped the Propofol causing the medically induced coma. And everyone waited. I wasn’t informed at first that that was what was happening, I just watched the Cardiologist watching Neil & the monitors. Blood had been drawn, I was told levels of Troponin were very high. His heart seemed to be beating oddly on the EKG, even I could tell that. I remember the doctor drawing me aside and commenting on it, but I honestly do not remember what was said, only that it was not good. More tests were run. After a few hours, I was hearing muttering about why wasn’t he waking. I asked “he’s still on the Propofol, isn’t he?” and was told No, they’d stopped it a few hours before. I was shocked no one had told me.
I don’t recall how much longer it was before the doctor told me that he would be transferred again. He explained that Heart Hospital is exactly that, and NO other specialties are even allowed to come in. Neil needed neurology as much as he needed cardiology, perhaps more. He wasn’t waking as he should after stopping the Propofol. He didn’t like what he saw on the EKG, or on the EEG. We would transfer to St. David’s Main, just a mile or so away, to the ICU, where neurology would also be involved. He had called a colleague, and discussed the multiple tests that had been run, what those were showing, the limitations he had to work within here, and both had agreed Neil needed to transfer. I agreed, he needs neurology on board, but then came the first time I explained…Neil doesn’t respond normally to sedation. He never has. A surgery he had as a child took him 3 days to awake from, and scared everyone. That wasn’t the only time he’d done that. The doctor seemed relieved (I wish I could remember his name), and said the neurologist at Main would know what to do.
A few more hours later we were both bundled into the ambulance (I hadn’t slept since the getting up the morning of the 12th and it was now well into the 13th, I probably did not look safe to drive, and I’m sure I wasn’t) and taken to the ICU at Main. Another flurry of doctors and nurses, registrars and technicians of varying departments, telling the story again and again. Being told it did not look good, he should be awake. Telling them what I wrote above about him and anesthesia. Seeing understanding and relief on some faces, seeing knowing looks on others telling me that everything I’d just said was being ignored. Respirators and heart monitors and leads and more monitors. Talks about what tests would be done, machines being wheeled in and tests completed. I had no idea so many things were mobile now. I’d seen x-ray brought to a room before, but that was about all. The first 24hr EEG wired to him, watching the tech take a solid hour attaching each lead to his head. Thinking it was a good thing we’d done his hair recently – he keeps his head shaved most of the time. Chuckling slightly when the tech mentioned how helpful it was his hair was so short right after I’d thought about it. It’s odd the things that stick with you.
And, finally, a nurse bringing in a couple of pillows and a blanket and pointing at the bench, telling me to lie down before I fell down. They didn’t need another patient in the room, she quipped. I’ve never been afraid to fall asleep before. What if something else happened to him? He’ll be watched constantly, she assured me. Lying down with my head on the wooden arm (hospital pillows are almost not there) and dropping off at some point…
The Time We Have Been Given 