Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Firstly, the other message I wrote about how I adamantly yada yadaed (not to undermine how awesome I did in this thing, just paraphrasing), but also, it was after a day of meditation and prayer. No shit. Lots of it. So Divine gets some credit here. Absolutely. All the credit.
Tonight. In bed. Cannot sleep. Even with all my usual tricks & extras of them.
I'm stirring. Somethings not settling. It's not just worry. It's my brain piecing all this together...
I made a list today to talk with the doctor. Some aren't worth sharing, but here's the pattern... I started asking to speak with the doctor at 9:30am, he came to speak with me at 4: 45... much to late to schedule procedures!
Blue-ish finger tips (new as of 3 days ago)
Bowel Movements had been daily, since Saturday once every 2 days (oral opiates re-introduced sunday - constipation due to opiates or gastroparesis having a flare-up?)
Cannot breathe nor lie flat...
The doctor, nice guy, smart enough, Dr. SoAndSo not as smart as this lady!
He didn't see it! No one sees it!
Anyone? Anyone?
Oh, shit!
This cyst thing is restricting his bowel. Doctor SoAndSo agrees on that. What he didn't see:
This thing is restricting his bowel, AND his circulation, AND his breathing, AND his dialysis. They've been blaming the catheter, but it's probably this damn mass in his abdomen that's restricting his blood flow! Fuck! And... They are refusing to drain the cyst until Marcus gets the CT scan which makes him feel like he's suffocating.
Wait a minute. Those bad-ass Interventional Radiologists at UCLA could probably thread a needle through your ovary orthoscopically with an ultrasound and a beer!
So this sort of comes to me tonight while I'm trying to sleep... What do I do now? At 2am? I can't call that IR's number. He called me a few days ago (it might be a service) but if it's his cel... that's pretty... rude. He's the damn CHIEF of the Interventional Radiology department at UCLA...sure we talked on the phone once about Marcus a few days ago, but... do I have that privilege yet? I started a text to him. Stopped. Put it in my calendar to call them firs thing in the morning. Took a beat... felt uneasy about that plan.
New plan.
Call UCLA. All reputable doctors & hospitals have some on-call after hours thing. It's a fact. It's unfortunate I know this at my age.
Page the on-call Radiologist who (since my guy is the big guy at UCLA) will certainly know my IR guy and be able to get to him easier and faster than I will. Plus, these guys don't get to be cowboys like the cardio or neruo guys, so this might be kind of great for them to have a double-IR emergency case in a guy like Marcus who has "one of the most unique scans I've ever seen," or "the most unique anatomy or vascular system I've ever seen" or, my personal favorite: "I've spent more time looking at your x-ray than any other patient and I've only known you for two weeks." To which I replied (to the Attending Doc at Cottage): That's kind of intimate, did you buy him dinner first?
Sorry, sleep-depraived tangent. Finish, then sleep, must share. I feel relief if I share.
Ok... Sorry!
Anyway, thank you thank you thank you is what I said after I got off the phone with the on-call IR, Dr Fellow and he's on it! he's going to tell Mr. Big first thing in the morning and work on getting Marcus transferred to UCLA as soon as possible. He agreed with my assessment and it's urgency. Yay! I told him to call me anytime. Marcus is actually sleeping. We re-bandaged his feet tonight before I left and the nurses think it helped him sleep. Nurses are aware of the transfer and told me "we will encourage it" (we made friends after a rocky start (she forced me to leave/hospital rules, but Marcus was really in agony and asking me to stay), again divine giving me grace let go, pick and choose my battles (I left which I needed to do for myself anyway, angels come in all packages and connections). Whew! Now time for me to sleep. Feeling grateful. Hopeful.
