The clinic-ing and the trach-ing and the pigg-o-stat-ing and the eyelashes

trach clinic over
all day at the hospital
hands still smell like soap

Today was trach clinic. Once upon a time, we were told we had to go to once a month. But then, after the first time we went and found trach clinic to be pretty harrowing and ultimately useless, we stopped going. No big deal. We just make appointments with our various doctors and see them when we need them. This bucks the system in that we don't see everyone in one day - but improves the system in that we only see people when we need to, not on some arbitrary day.

Boring. I know. I'm getting to the fun part.

So today we went to trach clinic for the first time since April. It took about one million hours just like it did last time. But this time I didn't have to worry about pumping, and I remembered to bring food, and our nurse came along for the ride, so that made things much better.

We saw the pulmonologist, the ENT, the RT, the ST, the trach nurse, the dietitian, the case worker, the social worker, the x-ray guys, and Mary in the lab who is a bad ass.

It was a busy day.

Ike-a-saurus tolerated the first two thirds of the day very well. By the last third he had HAD IT. He totally hulked out in the Pigg-o-stat (look it up. I call it the Baby Can) and tried to climb off of the little bicycle seat, thus requiring me to hold his arms and another dude to hold his legs. It turned into an impromptu baby rack/iron maiden combo created out of clear plastic, a leather strap, two adults and an unwilling baby. For real. It was that fun.

But now we have chest x-rays to send to Cincinnati.

"Sending Chest X-Rays to Cincinnati" sounds like a Butthole Surfers song.

I digress.

Pigg-o-stat was unfun. But other potential unfunness was thwarted by a little heads-up our nurse gave us. "Psst," she said, without moving her mouth. "A nursing student wants to practice drawing blood on Ike. Maybe you want to go to the lab?" No words needed uttering. Just looks of gratitude and then several brisk strides to flee the scene.

I will take a moment here to say hello to any nursing students who may be reading this blog: Hello! I just want to let you know that I think your chosen profession is noble and selfless and it is something I could never do in a million years. While I was in the hospital, and the past few times Ike-a-saurus has been in the hospital, I have always agreed to let nursing students have a look at the trach, and ask questions, and practice taking vitals, etc. But after a long day of trach clinic today, we needed someone who was going to find a vein, get that vial of blood, and do it quickly, assuredly, and without any talking.

So no offense, nursing students. We have helped train many of you. But not today. Today was not a good day for that.

I digressed again, didn't I? Alas.

So we made it through clinic today, and now we're on the week-or-so  watch of "dammit, what kind of asshole germs did we pick up this time?"

And by "asshole germs" I don't mean germs of the asshole. I means germs that ARE assholes. Big difference. Though, to be honest, we don't want any of either one.

Lots of tangents in this post.

Hopefully, we did not inhale any critters while in trach clinic today. Hopefully, the folks in Cincy will see the chest X-Rays, fall in love, want to marry them, invite us to the wedding, and then announce over cake and champagne, that they will perform a laryngotracheoplasty with an anterior graft, free-of-charge, to the person who introduced them.

I'll let you know how that works out.

Until then, no more trach clinic until March, unless I just jinxed it. And if I did, then DAMN IT.

Oh, I forgot about the eyelashes part of the title. Yes. Eyelashes. Ike-a-saurus has very long eyelashes. Everyone thinks so. They also think it is unfair that boys get the long eyelashes. I am going to start carrying a flask with me, and every time anyone at any doctor's office mentions Ike's eyelashes, i am going to take a shot. Except this will require taking a taxi home, or asking our nurse to drive, which I think is against the rules. Not that taking shots at doctors' offices is part of the rules.

I'm really tired. That is probably evident.

Also today, we saw a flat bed tractor trailer hauling bundles of flaming paper. Actually flaming paper. I don't know what that means, other than it was kind of awesome and it offered a one-of-a-kind distraction from the still simmering trauma of the Pigg-o-stat.

I can't figure out how to end this post.

Eyelashes.

Comments

[Amanda S.]

Even when you are tired and completely worn out from Pigg-o-stats, you are hilarious. I will keep my fingers crossed that the assholish germs stay away. And yes, eyelashes. Good post.