It's an Emergency! Lessons in the Unexpected - Part 2
Update - Taylor goes back to the hospital
Dear readers- Odds are your week was better than mine.
Ironically, after an emergency visit to the hospital and surprise surgery, I spent some rough days on the very same floor I volunteer on.
I do discuss some medical trauma below - so if you struggle with that, stop reading around the introduction of the nasogastric tube.
Here we go again…
If you would have seen me Saturday, you would have no idea. During the day, I felt pain in my abdomen. Abdominal pain isn’t new for me. In fact, it’s quite common. Between cysts, having a uterus and a menstrual cycle, former abdominal surgeries, and a stomach- it seems just being a woman signs us up for pains in the gut.
I spent a normal day of mothering, shopping, and then I even walked around a seasonal light show at a botanical garden, had dinner with friends, and just lived my life with this gnawing pain.
No one knew. I don’t complain much about the aches these days. I can handle a lot. I’m exceedingly tough. I didn’t even take pain meds.
But by 10pm, the pain radiated more- and nothing was making it better at that point. No amounts of heating pads, pain meds, three doses of simethicone was working. And then I started throwing up.
It’s an age old question for many anguishing at home- when do I go to the ER? What pain is worthy of waking up my sleeping baby, getting the whole family in the car and driving in the rainy dead-of-night to the hospital?
I’m a big fan of a 24 hour nurse hot-line.
I called the number on the back of my Insurance Card- and I let the friendly, compassionate woman on the line help us decide to go to the hospital.
We woke a sleepy, whimpering July and packed up the car.
I felt validated pretty quickly upon arrival. There was no long wait for us. I was whisked back once my vitals seemed unstable. We were in the uncomfortable place of rooting for a ruptured cyst or appendicitis. A disease flare was possible too. We couldn’t think of something worse?
Little July sat quietly in a sleepy but curious daze. She’s exceedingly intrigued by all things medical. Zach entertained her with snacks and some screen time during the wait between next steps.
As the morning crept closer, I sent Zach and July home to get some sleep. There would be more waiting, tests, and they deserved rest.
After a dose of pain med and a CT Scan, the mystery was solved.
The scar tissue from my previous many abdominal surgeries caused bands - like tough spider webs- throughout my abdomen. One of the strands caused a closed loop, twisting tightly around two sections of my small intestine, pushing them both together and squeezing them off from the rest of the intestine.
They said I would need surgery within the hour. Best case scenario, tiny laparoscopic measures could be taken in a few spots in my stomach. Worst case scenario, I’d have another major incision and a colostomy bag.
Needless to say, we were all pretty freaked out. But to distract me from thoughts of a life significantly altered yet again, was the NG tube or Nasogastric tube.
If you google it, it sounds kinda quaint. One website made it sound like a simple alternative to surgery in many cases with bowel obstructions. But it’s a trauma-inducing piece of medieval medical hell-scape.
I’ve had a lot of medical trauma, and here I was again facing one of the worst. While awake, they put a tube up your nose, down through your mouth and throat and into your stomach.
I won’t sugar-coat it. It’s the stuff of nightmares.
They sat me up very straight in the gurney- as far up as a gurney will go. Zach had thankfully returned - but in retrospect, I don’t know the toll secondary trauma takes on him. I’m comforted by his presence, but witnessing me experience torture after torture rocks a person.
A bubbly nurse with a sweet disposition, seemed both a strange combination of remorseful and excited about placing the tube.
I held a cup of water and straw and she asked me if I was ready- which felt almost laughable. How could I ever be ready for a tube going through my nose and into my stomach?
There’s nowhere in my humanity that’s ready for such a thing.
I tried to remember the multi-talented, weird girl in elementary school who put the noodle up her nose and pulled it out through her mouth.
But this was nothing like a spaghetti noodle.
I closed my eyes and as the tube felt like it was pushing it into my brain, then quickly the sensation of gagging and choking began.
“Sip water!,” the hipster nurse commanded.
As blood gushed from my nose and mouth, swallowing repeatedly felt violent. I gagged out in sheer panic, crying, “I can’t swallow! I can’t swallow! It’s too big! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t. I can’t swallow!”
But there was no going back.
As the tube slid in the core of my being, I somehow locked up inside myself. I became still and just tried to breathe only through my mouth.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
And as an x-ray checked its position, I sat in the gurney stunned, throbbing in pain and dripping blood. In a traumatized daze, tasting and smelling blood coming out of my face, the eye above the tube stung and drained tears so much, it hurt to keep it open.
Any discomfort I’d felt in my stomach was eclipsed. What stomach issue? My face, sinuses and neck feel like they’re exploding and melting out of my body in dribbles of blood.
The uncompromising pain pounded as they rolled me into surgery.
To be continued…. here.
YOU MAY HAVE MISSED IT
And for something lighter in tone… xo
If you’re new here and wondering, “what happened to this lady?” read:
I started writing this when I was on dialysis. It’s intended to be both memoir and a practical tool to help folks who might be going through something similar or those caregivers and family supporting someone with a challenging diagnosis. NOTE: This is not intended to replace actual medical guidance. Please consult your doctors on your individual challenges and situations. Please talk to your clinicians before adjusting any of your care protocols. Also names have been changed for most of my medical staff.
Thank you to new paid subscriber EA Cosper - I’m so grateful for your support.
Thank you to CC Couchois, Roy Lenn, and Dr. Richard Burwick for your founding level donation.
Horrible. Why? This is way too much for one unsuspecting, innocent being to endure wide awake. I say, NOOOOO to any more suffering for Taylor. I am so sorry this had to happen to your precious body.
I hate to share, but need to - my Dad had an awake anaesthesia for an endoscopy when he was having GI and stomach bleeds back in 2015 THIS was the ER trauma (with blood loss prior to ambulance) that I'm convinced led to an ischaemic event ie not enough oxygen going to his brain, because of all you've shared about the tube....Dad was diagnosed with vascular dementia. My Mum saw it all - how anyone thought it was a good idea to do an endoscopy on a heart failure patient who'd lost significant amount of blood and had Atrial fibrillation is beyond me...
I'll add NG tube to my own Advance Directives now. Your brave sharing has helped this reader solidify my thinking for me AND my mum. Thanks.