Six years ago today, I arrived at a hospital to get a tracheostomy tube and to be started on invasive ventilation. I had no idea what to expect. I could not get an answer from anyone if I was going to be admitted to the hospital after the surgery or if would be sent home. Moreover, there seemed to be general confusion about what procedure I was going to have.
The surgeon knew I needed a tracheostomy tube, but the rest of the hospital staff seemed to be clueless. One person told me they were just going to change out my tracheostomy tube. I said, “I do not have a tracheostomy tube.” The person said, “Oh. Well, then I do not know what we are going to be doing.”
After getting my tracheostomy tube, I woke up as I was being wheeled into the intensive care unit (ICU). I was a little shocked that I was going to staying in the ICU. The ICU was or really sick people. I just got a tracheostomy tube. Why did I need to be in the ICU? I later found out, since I was using invasive ventilation, I had to be in the ICU. This is where the respiratory therapists worked in the hospital. If I was in a regular room and an emergency arose, I would probably be dead by the time a respiratory therapist would be able to get to my room.
Many things went wrong the nine days I was in the hospital. You might think, “Nine days!? Wow, that was a long stay to get a tracheostomy tube!” The reality is, I was supposed to have been released earlier, but the entire staff from my medical equipment company was out of town at a conference. There was only one person in the office. I had to wait until he was able to make the half hour drive to the hospital and give me training on going home with a tracheostomy tube. Since I was not an urgent matter, I was not a high priority.
I almost died twice while hospitalized. One time, a doctor decided I did not need full respiratory support. He switched my ventilator over to the CPAP mode. CPAP blows high pressure into the airways. This is fine for inhalation, but to exhale, a person has to use a lot of energy to breathe out over the high pressure of the machine. Very quickly, my respiratory muscles gave out, and I went into respiratory distress. Praise God, my mom was by my side. She ran into the hallway and screamed for someone to come. The ICU was vacant. No medical staff was in the vicinity. She ran and finally found someone. When I thought I was going to die from sheer exhaustion, the machine was at last switched back over to full respiratory support.
I also had another incident where my tracheostomy tube became clogged with mucus. That incident could have been avoided if my inner cannula would have been changed. No one ever changed my inner cannula during my time in the hospital. When my tracheostomy tube became completely clogged with mucus, it was God who alerted a head nurse to my plight. The nurse intervened when I was on the verge of death, and once again my life was spared.
When the respiratory therapist came from my medical equipment company to show me how to care for my tracheostomy tube, he pulled out my inner cannula. He gasped and asked, “When was the last time this was changed out?” I said, “It has never been changed.” I thought the man was going to faint when I said that. This was the ninth day after getting my tracheostomy tube. He said it should have been changed out at least twice a day. He had never seen an inner cannula so dirty. He had no idea how I was able to breathe through all the mucus. Once again, I know it was God who was keeping me alive.
Since that time, other situations have arisen in which medical negligence and ignorance have almost cost me my life. Thankfully, God always leads me and directs my path. I know one day my life will end, but for the moment, I rejoice God has given me six extra years of life. Happy Anniversary!
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