Hospital Reflections
Experiences in the hospital and rehab.
I managed to dictate a blog post shortly after surgery, but kept it to the basics (that I'm fine and recovering).
I was in the hospital for nine days, including one day/night before surgery. The procedure the day before was an angiogram and tumor embolization (to block the tumor's blood supply, making surgery easier). The procedure was several hours and required observation, so they kept me overnight. I spent the entire time in a single hospital room: no moving to/from the ICU.
I've had overnight stays in hospitals before (post c-sections x3 being the longest). I appreciate the attentive care of the hospital staff, but hospitals are terrible places to get real rest and eat. Nurses came in every few hours (around the clock) to check my vitals or give me meds. I wasn't allowed to get up on my own, so if I had to use the bathroom I pushed the nurse call button and waited.
The food was pretty terrible, both at the hospital and the rehab clinic. I finally had my family bring some food so I could supplement with snacks (applesauce, pudding, and LARA bars). I'd be served dinner before 6pm and breakfast didn't arrive until 8am some mornings, so I was often hungry before my room was stocked with snacks.
Overnight was the worst, especially while in rehab. I couldn't sleep very well because it's hard to get comfortable with a large incision on the side of your head/neck. I had a neck brace for awhile, basically a foam thing that could hold my head upright and that helped a bit at least until the pain was under control. Nurses also put lidocaine patches on my shoulder since I'd get so stiff/sore.
It took several extra days to get moved to inpatient rehab. The doctors submitted paperwork to my insurance company the Friday after surgery, but needed to wait for approval.
Then my heart rate was really high, and the inpatient rehab facility wanted an explanation before accepting me (since they don't have the same level of medical equipment/care). I had three EKGs, but told everyone that I have underlying anxiety. I had been taking Xanax at an increased frequency (with the ok of my PCP) prior to surgery. Finally, the doctors added Xanax to my med rotation and that helped substantially. I haven't needed any since I got home.
I also broke out in hives, but told everyone that's also common for me with stress and/or unfamiliar fabrics (like hospital blankets that had been washed in somehting my body wasn't used to). A general practitioner stopped by my room to talk about my heart rate and get a medical history. Somehow in everything I'd filled out – repeatedly – about my medical history, I'd never mentioned my longtime struggled with hives, but I assured her that this happens to me regularly.
Finally, I got insurance approval plus the doctor's blessing to move to inpatient rehab (that my heart rate was, in fact, anxiety and not some other underlying cause). The rehab facility was literally across the street, so I had to wait for a medical vehicle to be scheduled to take me over there. It was raining that day, so I had to wait until the rain had passed (since I was outside for a brief period of time being loaded into the van).
By the time I was settled into the rehab facility, it was after 10pm. One of the more torturous experiences, since I was so tired that I could hardly see straight by that point.
Another torturous experience was the MRI that was ordered several hours after surgery. My pain was nowhere near under control. And if you've never had an MRI, you have to lie very still, and the procedure was expected to take 40 minutes. I was wheeled to radiology, but even moving me from the transportation bed to the MRI bed caused me to scream in pain. There was no way I would have been able to lie still long enough to get the necessary images. So I waited while the technicians got the ok from my neurosurgeon to postpone the MRI until I was better.
The nursing shifts changed every 12 hours, both at the hospital and in rehab. In rehab, I had the same nurses several days/nights in a row. At the hospital, it was a new nurse almost every shift. I admire nurses so much for the work they do... and also quickly picked up on those who were more efficient and/or working on a shift when they were overloaded with patient calls. Most arrived at my side always cheerful, no matter what my request.
In rehab, I had two or three hours per day of therapies: phyiscal therapy, occupational therapy, and speech. The speech was interesting, because the therapists focused on my reasoning and ability to remember. I was given problems to solve or had to recall details from a short story. They noticed a decline in my mental acutiy between sessions, but I assured the therapist that I was beyond exhausted and couldn't focus.
Everything requires more effort, even now. There's a big gap between knowing I need to do something and actually getting up to do it. Like maybe I know it's time to take more Tylenol, but I'll lie and think about it for a long time before moving because moving is exhausting.
However, I don't feel any brain fog or other mental impacts. I've been playing Wordle every day, which is something I've done for years. It's mostly physical sluggishness. And in many ways, it's frustrating because my body doesn't move as fast as my brain.
Anna Burgess Yang