I had my bronchoscopy yesterday morning. As predicted, don't remember
anything of the actual procedure, although I wasn't put under, merely
"sedated". I remember gargling some bitter stuff, then the doctor
putting a curved syringe down my throat to freeze the vocal chords, then
nothing until I was lucid again. Apparently I had a discussion with Dr
Allen, but I don't remember that. I felt fine, but they kept me for
another hour, making sure my oxygen levels and heart were fine.
Got home, had a much-needed coffee and some lunch, then started to feel tired, so I lay down. Got cold, so I covered up. Got really cold, and Sandy pointed out that the sheet Dr Allen had provided said if this happened to go straight to emergency.
So I did that; they triaged me to the head of the line, I was seen by a nurse, put on a saline drip, and into a cubicle. Leanne, who was in seeing a patient, came by. (They all love her in emerg!)
By the time the bag was empty, I was feeling much better, so the fact that I didn't see a doctor until after their shift change didn't matter. When I did see him, J was there on his way home from work. The Emergency doctor took extensive notes, did some tests, ordered an X-ray and a bunch of blood work, then phoned Dr Allen. They decided I should be hooked up to oxygen and stay overnight.
This morning I saw, in order: Leanne, who brought me a thermos of coffee, a sheaf of drawings, and some muffins before attending to her patient in the other bed; Robin, who brought me a Globe and more coffee; Dr Allen, who discussed the procedure (according to him, there's so much mucus in my lungs he had to clear the probe three times!), unhooked my oxygen, gave me a prescription for another antibiotic, and said he'd see me in a week when the first results are in; Leanne, between patients; Dr de Bruin, my GP, doing rounds, who was surprised to find me there, and who finally got me my discharge from the hospital...
So I'm home. It's a zone house (it being Election Day) but I'm not allowed to drive and coughing more than would make me useful on the phone.
So I'm totally redundant, but very pleased to be home.
Got home, had a much-needed coffee and some lunch, then started to feel tired, so I lay down. Got cold, so I covered up. Got really cold, and Sandy pointed out that the sheet Dr Allen had provided said if this happened to go straight to emergency.
So I did that; they triaged me to the head of the line, I was seen by a nurse, put on a saline drip, and into a cubicle. Leanne, who was in seeing a patient, came by. (They all love her in emerg!)
By the time the bag was empty, I was feeling much better, so the fact that I didn't see a doctor until after their shift change didn't matter. When I did see him, J was there on his way home from work. The Emergency doctor took extensive notes, did some tests, ordered an X-ray and a bunch of blood work, then phoned Dr Allen. They decided I should be hooked up to oxygen and stay overnight.
This morning I saw, in order: Leanne, who brought me a thermos of coffee, a sheaf of drawings, and some muffins before attending to her patient in the other bed; Robin, who brought me a Globe and more coffee; Dr Allen, who discussed the procedure (according to him, there's so much mucus in my lungs he had to clear the probe three times!), unhooked my oxygen, gave me a prescription for another antibiotic, and said he'd see me in a week when the first results are in; Leanne, between patients; Dr de Bruin, my GP, doing rounds, who was surprised to find me there, and who finally got me my discharge from the hospital...
So I'm home. It's a zone house (it being Election Day) but I'm not allowed to drive and coughing more than would make me useful on the phone.
So I'm totally redundant, but very pleased to be home.
2 comments:
Hi Justus - I do hope you are feeling better! And I hope you don't mind me writing to you.
I was having a tidy-up today in my flat here London, England - and found some old correspondence - including a card from my wonderful childhood teacher Mr Justus Havelaar - which has prompted me to do a search for him, Mr Havelaar taught me when I was ten years old - living in Victoria (South Park school, I think it was called).
I have a feeling he was your Dad.
He was just the best teacher I ever had! I was a shy pupil but he encouraged me to read and write and sing. Since then my family travelled a great deal and I think I went to eight schools altogether all over the place. But I kept up the reading writing and singing!
I'm now a journalist living here in London.
If it is your father - and he's still around - please give him my love!
Josephine Siedlecka
147a Leighton Road, London, England.
Jsiedlecka@gmail.com
Dear Jo Siedlecka,
How nice to hear from you! That was, indeed, my father, when he had just embarked on his teaching career.
I keep meeting and hearing from people who had him as a teacher, and are grateful for the experience. Imagine how lucky I feel to have had him as my father and grandfather to our kids!
From South Park he moved to Esquimalt Junior, teaching French and English, then to Oak Bay to teach English, then he helped plan a brand-new high school, Spectrum, and completed his career there.
He retired to Denman Island, then moved to Courtenay when my mom started to have medical issues, and finally died, in his own bedroom and bed, aged 99 and 3 months.
You might be interested in the piece I wrote on that occasion: http://occasionaljustus.blogspot.ca/2014/12/
Best regards,
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