Surviving and getting mad

Pulling a tangle of tubing around behind me at my home, to have the oxygen available while moving around. The trick is to not trip on it...which means making another decision about how to walk, turn, step. Another F-ing Educational process. AFGO was the term we used in college. Another F-ing Growth Opportunity. Not doing a bit of growing here...just surviving!
 

A last fun view of the mountains outside my hospital window. That's of course just a cloud coming over the top of the highest one, not snow!

The last tiny room had a wall of windows. I figured out finally that the building that predominates is actually AB Tech...our technical college. I've never visited it, just seen the turnoff signs. This was dawn of Wednesday.

By 10 am I had heard horribly loud construction drilling going on. You know, electric drills into metal studs. Intermittent of course. They took a lunch break. I called to a head person when they returned. I was mad. I told how 6 months ago I'd been in this hospital and endured 2 days of this kind of noise behind (above) my bed. I had no rest all day long. Then the 3rd day they were gone (weekend perhaps). And I finally was able to sleep and feel better. I remembered immediately how that experience affected my healing process. I demanded another room.

One was available, and I would be able to move soon. But then two doctors visited, and one (the house doctor) said I could go home if I could reassure him that I had oxygen overnight.

I dumbly didn't lie.

The machine at home was not acceptable to me, as it had specks of dark stuff and dust all over it from a dirty air handler in the wall behind it. The air handler had been cleaned, but I hadn't gotten around to getting the oxygen concentrator cleaned/changed yet. So I could use the portable oxygen machine, which had a battery which lasted about 3 hours, and could be recharged. I proposed just leaving it on the charger all night. Seemed like an answer to that.

But various discussions outside my hearing were held (probably phone calls between their seeing patients.)

I was on hold whether to move to another room and stay another night.

Would that even be an answer to overnight oxygen?

The home health agency only comes to my village once a week, fortunately Thursdays...the next day! But they couldn't get in my apartment unless someone came over and stayed there until the delivery guy arrived, which was open to anytime during that day. None of my friends could do that for me. If I didn't go home, I couldn't let him repair/change the unit, and I couldn't go home and sleep the night before...

Is that the definition of a Chinese Fire Drill? Or what is it called? Catch 22 probably.

The Case Manager and the Doc finally came to an agreement that I could go home, use the portable O2 unit to sleep with, and be there for the concentrator repair guy the next day.

The move to another room had been canceled. During many of the discussions with the medical staff in my room, they got to hear the construction drilling noise. I feel for any patients who remained nearby. That room would only be appropriate for someone totally deaf, or comatose!

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First day at home included re-establishing some of the breathing equipment in a different location, to see if it will be more comfortable using it there. I lost track of all the phone calls to various medical people, setting up and changing appointments, talking with nurses about concerns over side effects, and finally getting a written message through the patient portal with my pulmonologist. He read the hospital notes and said he agreed with the treatments, and reassured me the side effects I was having were normal enough to not cause concern.