Still no biopsy results. I still sit crying in my room, not that anyone cares, in pain and hooked up to wires and machines every place I turn around. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that there's no catheter; at first glance it seems like a positive, but have you any idea how long it takes to get someone to help one to the restroom in a place like this? I keep running out of pain medicine on my pump, and I am hurting soooo badly. Not to mention that the anxiety level is through the roof, but no one cares a hoot about that. They actually sent a social worker in to talk to me earlier, and I was happy to see her because I could use someone to talk to right about now! Only problem was, her phone rang (and she answered) no less than six times in the course of the fifteen minutes she spent in my room. Made me feel like I was the most important thing on her plate, let me tell you! In the end, she recommended that perhaps she would talk to my dr. about some zoloft or something since I am obviously depressed.

I just can't believe the treatment in this place, truly. And I don't think it's a factor of this hospital, I think it's a factor of the system. I don't think any other hospital would see different results. There are a few employees who obviously really care about their patients, and for them I am thankful. I cried my eyes out because one nurse's aide helped me lean over the sink and wash my hair this morning (since I still can't get in the shower and my hair was looking pretty sad y'all). She certainly didn't have to, and I'm sure she had other things to do, but that small gesture made me feel human for a little while and it was really nice.

For the rest of the work force, I don't know what to think. Truly. WHy are you here? I asked one to get me a soda earlier, and over an hour later I still sat here, thirsty. Finally I sent my hubby out to get me a soda, and she came running back with it chastising hubby for leaving the floor to go for my refreshments? What the heck am I supposed to do? Sit here thirsty until you have the time or gumption to get me a drink? I hate asking anyone to get me anything! I sincerely wish there were a button I could push that would deliver whatever I needed.

And still, the pain doesn't stop. CHest tubes hurt like the devil. And I still haven't shared the lovely stories from yesterday, when the surgeon started taking staples out before the anesthesia was delivered, not to mention the nurse's aid that called me a liar and got kicked out of my room...

Ah well, I hate hospitals and if there was ever any doubt it's certainly all coming back to me now. There's talk of sending me home tomorrow, despite the fact that I'm on 24/7 IV pain meds, 24/7 oxygen, and have a big ole tube with a couple of holes in my chest. I think that dr. is insane. I just want the stupid biopsy to come back with some results so I can have some idea what the heck is going on. I'm in a horrible mood.

No biopsy results today either as it turns out. This waiting sucks. I have horrid stories about today, but don't know if I have time to write them. For now, suffice it to say that I have to have a small chest tube put back in because some fluid leaked into the pleural space and must be drained. My surgeon will be here shortly to do that in my room. I'll have some more horrid stories at a later time, that's the update from today.

I forgot to say, the biopsy results weren't in today so no news yet. They're expecting them tomorrow so I'll keep ya posted.

I think the main thing I hate about hospitals is the complete and utter hopelessness that accompanies a hospital stay. It's like you are suddenly less-than-human, or at the very least, not a competent adult anymore. Here I was, happily drifting off to lala land, without the assistance of sleeping aids no less, and I was quite thrilled with the prospect of some actual rest. First, my incompetent aide comes in to take my vitals and somehow thinks it hurts less to wake me up if she calls me "honey," so she proceeds to hook me up to the blood pressure machine. But the battery is dead because she forgot to plug it in all day, so she can't take my blood pressure but she can't figure out what the problem is, so she simply records the blood pressure that appears on the monitor from my earlier reading. Nice...

So then she tells me no one will be bothering me again so I can go ahead and turn my light back out and go to sleep. So I do. And less than five minutes later, that stupid IV machine starts beeping because my stupid antibiotic is finished running and it needs an RN to okay it and push a stupid button. Now, being a nursing student, I know how to turn off the machine, but I didn't want to interfere with her paperwork so like a good patient I sat up and turned on my overhead light, hit the patient call button, and waited. And waited. And waited. After 20 minutes I decided to go potty one more time (still beeping) and started unplugging all my devices so I could take myself to the bathroom. Peed, washed hands, returned to bed, re-plugged everything, rehooked up monitors for breathing, fluffed pillows... still beeping.

I'm freaking awake by now and start unhooking my breathing monitor because it makes an obnoxious loud noise much worse than the IV machine. I then proceed to turn on the bp monitor (now charging across the room) which also beeps loudly because it's not hooked up to anything. And I started a youtube broadcast of "mahna mahna" very loudly on my laptop here. It still took another 15 minutes (grand total just over 45 minutes) to get anyone in my room. Thank goodness it wasn't serious! I could have peed my pants for sure in that length of time!

Which brings me back to my original point. When they first took my catheter out, I had 2 chest tubes complete with 2 tubes and 2 containers to catch the junk coming out of the tube. I also had 1 huge IV pole with 3 lines and a bunch of bags, and 1 pole with my pca pump (pain killers) on it. I was also connected to the wall oxygen. So do tell, how was I to get to the potty when I had to go? I had to rely on a nurse or nurse's aide to make a timely appearance in my room, disconnect all my crap that needed d/cing and carry the rest of it to the potty while ensuring that I didn't trip over it. I refused to drink water because I didn't want to make the trek to the rest room. In spite of this, they never offered a bedside commode or bedpan, and I really could not make it to the potty without assistance. It makes one feel subhuman, truly.

I was quite pleased today, then, to be down to one IV pole (they've combined my pca and IV lines) and an oxygen line that will reach all the way to the toilet. My chest tubes and containers are gone, and I can take one pole and unplug it and make the rest room trip by myself. Thank goodness, no puddles on the floor today!

Still, if I need a drink of water I'm dependent on someone to get it for me. Food, any drink, room temperature, you name it. I hate it. I can't shower without permission, can't leave my room, can't eat without permission.

When I'm feeling a little better and can handle a wait, I tend to look at it quite differently. As in, I have someone waiting on me hand and foot, and they will bring me whatever I need! Shoot, they will even come wipe my butt if I ask them too! But somehow when I'm feeling so badly, it just doesn't hold the same appeal and I just want to be able to walk to the machine for myself and buy a freaking mountain dew. Or shut up this stupid beeping machine and get some sleep without permission.

I first of all apologize in advance for typos. I'm on heavy narcotics and have monitor thingies on my fingers, so it's not easy to type but I'll do my best.

Now, for the most recent update. Let me settle in here.

I'm an inpatient again. Have been for 3 days now. Just got out of ICU a few hours ago, so I'm doing better now than I was yesterday, for certain! I had an open lung biopsy done yesterday, which will hopefully give me a definitive diagnosis by Monday or so. It's very painful, so I hope something positive will come of it. Ah well, at least they broke out the good drugs for this. I'm on a dilaudid pca (a new experience for me) which I used so much I locked the darned thing ha ha ha. I didn't know there was a limit, the nurse never told me, and she said she'd never had anyone reach the limit because they usually knock themselves out and fall asleep first ha ha. Oh no not me, I can't sleep in this stupid place. Even with heavy narcotics AND ambien.

Now, poor dd has been at her dad's just crying because she's convinced I'm dying and no one has told her. Poor little thing. I called her tonight and tried to sound convincing that I was feeling better. Thankfully it was before I got locked out of my dilaudid machine!

I also need to mention how it came to be that I'm back in here again. I started feeling badly again around Monday, but kept putting it off because the kids were supposed to go to their dad's this coming weekend for a few weeks. I was hoping to hold out until they left, didn't quite make it. Tues. I told hubby I was feeling really bad, and you could hear the wheezing, and I wound up staying in bed/sleeping most of the day. I just couldn't do our stairs, which really means staying upstairs for the day since there is no bathroom downstairs. Wed. was much more of the same, and I gave up and called ex to come get the older kids and planned to go to the dr on Fri. Thurs. I got up unable to catch my breath at all and headed to the ER again. Pulse ox was 78% again. They took me to one of the trauma rooms, and maybe it finally started to hit hubby that I was actually sick.

All week, hubby complained about taking care of the kids, especially the baby, and every time I sent my daughter down to give the baby to him, he waited 5 or 10 minutes and brought him back. No joke. My kids went to their dad complaining about him not letting me rest. Sad, huh? My daughter was trying to take care of baby so I could sleep/rest but she really can't do it for long by herself at this stage. He takes a lot of stamina right now, he wants to jump up and down on your lap.

Anyway, I landed in the ER and they sent first for a chest x-ray again. Double lung pneumonia again, all lobes involved. And compared to my first original (march) x-ray, it looks like I'm worse now than when I first came in. Go figure.

Then they sent me for high contrast ct, and this now shows not only the aforementioned pneumonia, but also a mass that wasn't there before. They can't tell what kind of mass, but some sort of mass. So I finally agree to the biopsy and get checked in. That first night here was hell and I just won't go into it right now, but it was bad. Hubby only declares that I have to get home by Monday because he has summer camps that cannot be covered or rescheduled.

So right now I have 2 chest tubes in and I'm recovering from yesterday's biopsy. Oh fun. I don't recommend it, even if they do bring out the good stuff. Hopefully Monday will bring good news. Really, I just want to be able to breathe and enjoy life a little. I miss doing things with my kids. I miss my back yard and I want to watch my garden grow. I miss holding my baby, as I haven't been able to for a couple of days now. And I miss sleep, I can't do that here either!

It's a great place for it, in theory, but in reality there's no rest in a hospital. As soon as I drift off someone comes in wanting to give me a breathing treatment or take blood, chest xray, give me meds, something! Hell, last night they woke me up to give me a sleeping pill! Come on people! You must be joking, right? No such luck, that is the sad truth of the ICU.

Well now I am completely exhausted and you are mostly caught up on my status. I'll keep you posted and give you some news as soon as I have some.