What happened before what happened happened
My beautiful sun was born 37, almost 38, years ago, and we have battled for his life starting from pregnancy.
Because of complications from cervical cancer it was suggested numerous times that an abortion would be the best option. But my son was born
However he arrived with numerous birth anomalies. He is beautiful to behold but his heart, back, kidneys, and nervous systems each handicap him in a different way.
He’s had about 20? surgeries in his 37 years including open-heart twice.
Hence, a sudden heart rhythm change was “just one more procedure” when it turned out to be atrial fibrillation (A-fib). He was cardioverted as an out-patient procedure and returned to sinus rhythm.
But the rhythm didn’t last and he was scheduled for an ablation at Crouse Hospital in Syracuse NY on Wednesday, July 22, 2020 at 6am
What happened
We did some pre-op paperwork in the office. When asked if he was allergic to contrast dye we explained that he is not allergic. He suffers from renal insufficiency (kidney problems). So she said “Well, he has to take a lot of prednisone. He should start today”. Given that prednisone will burn out his kidneys, and given that contrast dye is not indicated in this procedure l said “No, I’m sorry, he won’t be taking any prednisone”
She snapped “oh, well we’ll see about that!”
I smiled. (People hate when I do that)
When I told her we would be following the doctor’s order for the Elequis (an anticoagulant) instead of hers she leaped from the chair. I was so surprised I jumped!
“I’m going to talk to the doctor about you”, she roared, storming out of the room.
She returned in a remarkably short period of time quite contrite and advised us to take the medications just as the doctor had discussed with us. We asked that arrangements be made for me to stay with him as he has multiple disabilities. We were assured that would not happen.
My son rose from his chair and said “Ok, thank you, I’m not coming. You ready to go, Mom?” Ah, and permission was instantly granted. Actually, I did not require permission. There is a policy in place to cover caretaker situations, but we were not informed of this.
We rose at 3:30 the morning of the surgery, so we’d have time to pack a go bag, shower and drive the hour and 1/2 to the hospital by 6. Right on time we walked into the hospital together, I was given a stick on badge. And we were left to sit in a waiting room…for 5 hours.
During that 5 hours my son was tested for C19. After a few hours a nurse stopped by to say they were almost ready. I asked about the test and she told me “he is negative”. She repeated it as if to make sure we understood. I got the impression she was giving out classified information.
Finally!! The nursing supervisor stopped to say she was holding a private room for us and suggested I go out, get some lunch or whatever. The procedure was expected to be about 4 hours. As the room filled with doctors and nurses I bid my son goodbye and promised to be there when he got out
I hugged my very sleepy son as he rolled past from the surgery suite to recovery and started out for a cigarette. Security Rob was instantly alert. “If you leave, you won’t be allowed back until morning”, he announced to the lobby.
“Oh,” I said, “I’m not a visitor, I’m a caretaker” stupidly thinking we were following the posted policy”
“I don’t care what you are, I’m not letting you back in for 24 hours”, he snapped. Hmm, he just lengthened the time. Obviously, policy is written on a minute to minute basis, much too fast to properly. But I was more concerned with my son than my cigarette. So I walked away…but I did not quit. I was left in yet another waiting room where a receptionist suggested I could simply walk down down the hall to the garage.
I was greeted at the end of the hall by Security Rob and Supervisor RN Emily, arms crossed snootily announcing “YOU can’t come in here”
I smiled. People hate when I do that and usually interpret it as an aggressive move. “Ok,” I said “You explain that to my son. He will break everything in his path on his way out. Tell him I’ll meet him in the garage”.
“Oh,” I added, “then you can explain it all to his doctor”. I knew this argument was over but bullies must bully.
After a quick consideration the policy underwent yet another change. “I’ll let you stay,” Nurse Emily acquiesced. “But you may not leave the building, or we won’t let you back until he’s discharged.” Rob added
“Fine, excuse me” As I tried to move past Nurse Emily stepped in to me blocking my way, furiously informing me that if I tried to leave the room I would NEVER be allowed back. Never? Really? So if I get hit by a truck when exiting the hospital you’ll refuse treatment?
This is an old horse game. The name of the game is “who moves who”. The object is to get the opponent to move even a fraction. Oddly it has the psychological effect of establishing the upper hand. It works amazingly well on humans. Stepping in to someone is extremely intimidating. I don’t intimidate easily, however, and I’m well versed in the game. I saw her step and raised her a finger (not that finger!). Just aimlessly pointing, She folded. She moved back, but continued her chihuahua yapping
1. the CDC. No, the CDC has absolutely no authority to issue anything except recommendations
“Security Rob,” I said, “You are my witness. I will stay in the room but I want to know why I am being forced to do this”
“Because the CDC said” Rob told me. No the CDC does not have the authority to tell anybody to do anything.
“Well Governor Cuomo ordered it.” Nurse Emily said. No, in order to do that Governor Cuomo would have had to sign an executive order which he did not
“This is our policy and you better stay in the room! If you continue to harass us, we’ll have you arrested! And I’m going to report this to administration!”
“Me too!”, volunteered Bozo Bob. “I’ll write a report too!”
I burst out laughing. “I’m going to write a report too. I’m going to send mine to my Q-Anons”. It felt so good watching them blanch!
Anything here sound like harassment? Bear in mind I did not employ someone to come care for my animals get up at 3am to endure hours of harassment and worry so my son and I could party. I did this, the same as I have always done because my son is a special needs individual. He battles every day to keep up and be productive—ADD, SED, severe anxiety rage—and overcomes. But in the terrifying position of wondering if they would try to kill him rage is a problem. Thank you Jesus, for helping keep him from throwing a shoe through the tv. (He thought that constituted restraint as he wanted to throw it threw a supervisor’s head
Another example of what I do is stop the nurses from forcing Elequis on him. I requested a the results of his clotting factors or a PT/PTT before I would allow another anticoagulant to be given, especially since their biggest problem was getting a puncture wound to stop bleeding. The nurses insisted that if he did not take the pill he could have a stroke.
When a patient is converted from a-fib to sinus rhythm they may be at risk of “throwing a clot”. During sustained periods of a-fib blood pools at the bottom of the atria (the top chambers of the heart). A sudden sinus beat picks up that pooled blood and “throws” a shower of clots into the lungs and blood stream. It is for this reason that a trans esophageal echocardiogram (TEE) is done. It confirms there are no clots. The chance of stroke from cerebral embolis are very low, even lower than the chance of pulmonary embolis (PE). However, by over-anti-coagulating the risk of cerebral bleed are increased exponentially
The nurse told me his wound had only been seeping through the night, as they changed the bloody sheets for the third time and the dressing for the 4th or 5th time. I have worked as a critical care RN for 30+ years. I’m fairly experienced with bleeding wound sites. It was definitely bleeding.
I was forced to stay inside this room under false pretenses until my son was discharged. This is essentially kidnapping.
I was given a flyer to visit the hospital patio but when I asked I was told it is closed. I was told I could go to the cafeteria for food but was then told the cafeteria is strictly for staff only. I asked how I was supposed to eat and was brought a dried up turkey sandwich with a crinkled pack of warm mayo, for which the nurse patted herself on the back. My son was later given a peanut butter and jelly sandwich of which I ate half. The food on his tray was old and cold. At home, the chickens would have gotten it. The dogs would not have eaten it.
Today is Saturday. We’ve been home since Thursday. I have not recovered. My son has made an appointment with his primary physician to make himself a hospice patient as he would rather die at the hand of God than the hands of the democrats. I will be doing the same.
If there is a possibility of pressing charges I will but I will definitely be forwarding to Crouse Hospital, Syracuse NY