Part four of the epic catalyst for change


The bumpy, ride over to Dallas in the ambulance was uneventful but odd. It was odd being strapped and bundled up on a gurney in the back of an ambulance facing the door.  One EMT, the woman, rode in back with me but I couldn’t see her, after all I was facing the door.

“Do you mind if I put the oxygen cannula under your nose.  We like to keep the oxygen level at 98%”.  The EMT said from somewhere over my right ear.

I could see the monitor on my left with all my readouts: BP, heart rate, o2 level.  My o2 was at 96.  I shrugged  “Sure, go ahead.”  Couldn’t  hurt anything but I thought my oxygen level was fine.

An hour after I got to Dallas, admitted and settled in my room when it was safe for me to move around, I wasted no time in getting up to use the bathroom. What a luxury. This had to be a harbinger of things to come.

Although Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital Allen and Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas are in the same family they were worlds apart. Allen has 48 beds while Dallas beds are over 600. Allen has maybe 2 floors whereas Dallas is basically a highrise. This all makes a difference in the care I received.

I was still getting the shot in my stomach and the nitro patch. After all, nothing really had changed. All I had done was the cardiac cath, there was no intervention such a stent. When the nurses at Allen injected the blood thinner into my stomach the needle slid into my flesh with ease and I felt next to nothing, that is until the medicine started to spread, then there was burning for a while, like getting a bee sting if you are not allergic.

The trick with giving that shot is to bunch the skin and just go for the jab as if you are stabbing some one. I know because when my brother was hospitalized a couple of years ago I was recruited to administer these shots to him so he could go home. It was very uncomfortable to stand over my brother with a syringe getting ready to jab. But jab I must because that was how I was instructed to do it so there would be minimal discomfort. My brother told me I did good. Was he being nice? I couldn’t tell. But now that I got pay back by getting my own shots I think maybe I did do good.

The nurses at Allen did that but this one nurse at Dallas put the needle in slowly, as in s-l-o-w-l-y. It burned going in, it burned when the medicine spread. I had to get those shots twice a day. I knew in the morning she would be back for another go at it but I said nothing to her. I endured it. Ach! What can I say?

I guess it was because I liked her. She was from Africa, tall, beautiful and had the most amazing accent. I could listen to her for hours. The thing is I felt she was lacking in self-confidence. I don’t know just a gut feeling. The way she held herself and seemed worried that she was doing things wrong. She was knowledgeable but I think she was worried about hurting me. She seemed hesitant before injecting me.

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4 thoughts on “Part four of the epic catalyst for change

  1. Your brother told you, “You did good!” Not just good rather unbelievably amazing. To follow yourself, this journey, to trust I believe to be so powerful. Love, Cathy

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    1. Thanks Cathy, for hanging in there and ready against all odds 🙂 But just as importantly thank you for your comments and feedback. Right now, you are the only one reading and I am really grateful. Grateful to have a good friend like you.

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