[Ducati] Hospital Horror Stories (long)

[Ronald Betts]

Dude.....I'm surprised you made it to tell us about it. Heal up Buddy.Peace...Ron"Desmohead"Betts 95 900 SPI've learned that I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy it!> From: dsi at swcp.com> To: ducati at ducati.net> Date: Sun, 11 Nov 2007 19:40:45 -0600> Subject: [Ducati] Hospital Horror Stories (long)> > Hospital Horror Stories> > Just got a card from Keith, a friend that usually attends the> Pantahead/Bevelhead dinner at the Hill House at Laguna. This year, while on> the way down, Keith got hit by a car whilst traveling down and went to the> hospital instead. So on the card he sent me, it started with "imitation> being the sincerest form." and went on to say that he looks forward to> swapping Hospital Horror Stories at the Hill House for Laguna next year.> > As one fellow San Antonio resident pointed out to me, the University> Hospital has great doctors but lousy care. Sure seemed like it for me. After> arriving essentially dead, no blood pressure or pulse, getting a compleat> oil change (6 units of blood), removal of unneeded parts for future racing> (bye bye spleen) and noting a flat tyre (collapsed lung), broken frame (5> broken ribs) and defective clutch (two broken bones in left shoulder) along> with low compression (fracture in back) plus new colour scheme (biggest> blood blister I have ever seen, from leg to shoulder in purple), I was> initially downgraded in ICU, then uprated and shoved out to the mercy of a> floor 12 ward for telemetry (throttle by wire?). So there I was, with the> usual IV stuff, NPO (nothing to eat or drink) and a Morphine drip set at a> very ineffective rate for pain. My lovely wife was there to provide an> uplift and a number of friends as well, but during the times when they were> gone, it seemed truly alone indeed. The morphine dose did get elevated a> bit, but was more a dread than a help, as my left side positively throbbed> with feeling, none of it benevolent. Pushing the button for a nurse usually> provided some sort of appearance within the hour, usually with little> benefit. A sling was requested repeatedly, but never materialized. When I> tried walking (dam the pain, I gotta go somewhere), I was told not to go> near the doors and generally confined to a small area of the hall for some> reason. When my fever started at 100, it didn't seem too bad, but as it went> to 101, I asked for Tylenol for the fever and got blank stares. Finally as> my fever neared the 104 mark, a grudging relief arrived. This was now after> 2 days in the hospital, and 1 in this ward, being midday on Monday. I was> having fearful hallucinations, perhaps from the morphine about what was> going on, it seemed like a war zone outside, or maybe a hospital in the> midst of Katrina. At least I assume they were hallucinations, from what I> have read about them during my quiet boyhood growing up in Berkeley, CA> during the 60s (1964, Berkeley High School). So I resolved to quit doing the> morphine pushes and clear things up, starting at noon on Monday. That night,> just as dear Sharon left, she made me take one hit of morphine to sleep, but> that was the end of it, and I couldn't sleep anyway. No other comfort came> from the nurses who seemed to always manage to grab the mangled left arm to> test blood pressure with, and a long night ensued. By morning, with a> clearing mind, I resolved that this ward was hazardous to my health, for> despite not being able to drink anything, they had also removed my IV tubes> in the night, except for the deadly morphine drip. So around 8 am the next> morning, I got up, with the little morphine drip cart in tow, and walked a> short distance from my room to study a chart on the wall in the corridor> providing emergency exit information. The pain in my left side faded as> excitement grew from studying the diagram. Back to my room, where I studied> the morphine IV, then leaving the catheter and one other section of tubing,> I closed the line lock to prevent air from entering, grabbed the connector> with the left hand and released the tubing with the right. Now free of the> confining morphine cart, I grabbed my few items, brushed my hair quickly (so> as not to piss off the wife) and stealthily opened my door. The coast was> clear, and I began walking towards stairway 7, as denoted on the map. Nearly> there, John the nurse suddenly came out of a door, and I thought I was> doomed. He asked who disconnected my IV, while assuring me that he wouldn't> get them in trouble. That only added to my desire to leave, but I could only> stammer an incoherent reply. In an act of supposing graciousness, John said,> "let me fix that for you" and removed the extra piece of tubing, leaving> only the catheter in my arm. Horrified, I looked down to see that he had not> slid the tubing block in place, and I was left standing there with my blood> vein exposed to the air. However John turned away, and I quickly slid the> block in place, sealing the catheter. As John went on around a cabinet and> out of sight, I quickly opened the door, eased into the stairway and> silently shut the door. Then I began working my way down the stairs. After> sometime, I had gone down 6 floors, and thought that I better check to see> if I would be able to get into a floor, so tried a door, and it opened into> a hallway. Reassured, I continued on down, finally going 13 flights of> stairs and opening an emergency exit door. Fortunately no alarm sounded and> I eased out onto the grass, finally working my way up to the street. I was> dressed in a tee shirt and shorts along with slippers and didn't attract too> much attention. At the street, I walked along until I got to the walkway to> the VA hospital where my wife has her office and crossed over. I felt much> safer inside the VA, thinking no one would notice a guy in slippers with a> catheter in his hand walking along. As it turns out, I arrived before my> wife did, so one of the guys in the office called her, and she was just> setting foot in University hospital, where warnings were blaring on the> loudspeaker system that patient Peter Bonner was missing. With Sharon on the> phone, we were able to negotiate for a different ward and room for me to> stay in, and then I returned to the hospital. Immediately after arriving> back, they decided to run a ct scan, do more X rays, check blood> circulations and other tests. Then I was given a new room among some of the> best nursing staff I have experienced in my more than several hospital> visits.> > Moral of the story, if you don't like the treatment, bargain for better.> Ducati content, my Multistrada didn't get another chance in life, just DOA> and taken for auction by the insurance company, but I got my money. Thanks> Progressive.> > Peter> > Ps Have already settled on the next bike for the commuter scooter, its not> another Strada> > > *****> > Our newest sponsor, MC Stands, has just opened its doors! It's a motorcycle> stand superstore. Every brand, every model, 95% in stock for immediate> shipment. Whether front stands, rear stands, paddock stands, dirt bike> stands, or any kind of stand or lift, MC Stands tests, rates, and discounts> everything they sell. Check them out!> > Visit: http://mcstands.com/> _______________________________________________> Ducati mailing list> Ducati at ducati.net> http://list.ducati.net/cgi-bin/mailman/listinfo/ducati> Mailto: ronaldebettsasalc0015 at hotmail.com
_________________________________________________________________
Help yourself to FREE treats served up daily at the Messenger Café. Stop by today.
http://www.cafemessenger.com/info/info_sweetstuff2.html?ocid=TXT_TAGLM_OctWLtagline