Magical MissTari Tour: What I (Really) Did On My Sister Vacation, part two

Welcome back! I'll try to finish this adventure in this post, but I fear there's too much to report... When I left off in my last post, I think it was Saturday morning. My sister had spent the night in Mt. Sinai Queens hospital, but had received a doctor visitor late Friday night who thought she should be transferred to Lenox Hill in Manhattan for a procedure.

According to the booklet Georgette (the lady from admitting) gave us, visiting hours at Mt. Sinai Queens were 9am - 9pm. I woke up early Saturday morning, and picked up some bagels in my neighborhood, timing everything so I could get to the hospital by 9am. When I got there, I saw a sign on the lobby desk: Visiting Hours, 10am - 9pm. Wait, what?! I was NOT going to sit in that waiting room for an hour! I went to the sign-in guy and said that the booklet said visiting hours start at 9am! He said, 'there's a booklet?' I said, 'yeah, they give you one when they admit you, haven't you seen it? My sister is being transferred, so I need to get up there!' He says (really), 'Whatever. Go on up.' Well, ok then.

I took our bagels up and my sister and I had bagels and kibbutzed. She was feeling a little better, but still on oxygen. I brought her some toiletry supplies, so we got her hooked up to the portable oxygen, walked down to the restroom (the tiny, fiery nurse wasn't on duty) and she was able to tidy up a bit. When we got back to the room, the doctor who visited her last night came a bit later. I call him Dr. Curly, since he had very curly hair. He said that the clot was indeed too big to break up on its own, and since she was young, he thought my sister should have a procedure that a doctor he knows does at Lenox Hill. The transfer would happen later in the day, after they were sure there was a bed there. He explained the procedure to me so I could explain it to our mom. He said it wasn't surgery, but a procedure where my sister stayed awake and would help her get rid of the clot and take the pressure off her heart. If her heart kept working as hard as it had been the past two days, she could someday go into congestive heart failure, and they didn't want to see that happen. OK. He actually didn't give us much of a choice, the transfer was already in process, but my sister thought this procedure sounded like the right thing to do. We called our mom and she said that she, my dad and my nephew would be coming. My sister had to call her ex-husband, otherwise known as The Idiot, to tell him that the nephew would be coming. She texted him, since she doesn't like speaking with him (because he's an idiot), but of course he called her back. Hello. Talking with oxygen in = not fun. Anyway, when he called back, she was in the restroom, so I had to talk to him. Blech. I just gave him the bald facts and hung up. She called him after and told him what was up. All he asked was: "do you have any plans? Do you have a will? Anything I should know?" ARGH!!!! Yeah, you idiot, you should know that you're AN IDIOT. What a jerk. I told her to tell him that I would get custody of my nephew, but she thought it best not to rile him up. (I wouldn't get custody, of course, but it would make his head explode to think that I could.) I hate him. I told my sister not to think about him because he only makes her heart rate go up under the best of circumstances...

The ambulance to transfer her arrived a few hours later. The EMTs this time were two ladies named Kristin and Christine. I still don't know who was who. But they were both very pleasant and efficient. It took awhile to get the paperwork going, then they hooked my sister up to more portable monitors (she had the oxygen, the heart monitor, and she was also on heparin blood thinners) and took her out to the ambulance. It was very sweet the way many of the nurses and a couple of the doctors who had treated my sister made sure to say goodbye. I told my sister, maybe Mt. Sinai Queens is a little bit rundown, but the people inside were very nice. I thought that Lenox Hill would be a nicer hospital, but I thought the doctors and nurses would be a little more reserved. I was exceedingly right about that...

It turns out that Kristin/Christine had only driven in NYC once before. She was quite nervous about driving in the city and was overly cautious, yet hit all the bumps. At one point, the other gal (Kristin? Christine? I wish I knew) asked if she could please stop hitting the bumps. That made me think my sister wasn't feeling all that well back there. I was making the driver laugh up front because I decided to take a bunch of pictures with my sister's phone. Since she couldn't see the scenery, I thought I'd document the ride. Not that I got many good photos, but I tried. I'll put some more at the bottom of the post.

My sister was NOT feeling well when we got to Lenox Hill. Her heart was racing and the ride had shaken her up. Her vitals weren't great when she got there, so all the nurses and doctors moved into high gear to see if she needed to have the procedure that night, instead of on Monday when Dr. Curly said it could happen (so our family could be there, too, since they were driving in on Sunday). She had a private room in the cardiac critical unit, and the chair for me was happily a little more comfortable. They took blood and a rather stand-offish doctor who we later discovered is named Dr. Doctor (REALLY!) came to do an echocardiogram. Dr. Doctor really should work in research and should perhaps limit his contact with actual people, because his bedside manner was seriously lacking. He kept saying oh, you're fine, you're fine, as if she was wasting his time, not as a reassurance. He also just kept talking about texting the doctor who would do the procedure, who I dubbed Dr. God (that's because of the awe in the other doctors' voices when speaking of him. I changed Dr. God's nickname after I met him). Dr. Doctor wouldn't give us a straight answer about anything, he just said my sister couldn't have anything to eat or drink until they figured out when the procedure would be. He also at one point asked me to get the lights for him (wait, what?!) and THEN he asked me if I could please tell the nurse how much blood they drew from my sister. OK, when did I start working at Lenox Hill?!?! I seriously considered asking for a salary and then asking them to deduct it from my sister's bill.

Dr. Doctor then started asking us where the CD of my sister's test was. Excuse me? What CD? They didn't give us a CD. And who thinks to ask for that when you're released from a hospital?! Shouldn't Dr. Curly have known this? Dr. Doctor told me I would have to physically go back to Mt. Sinai Queens to pick it up. I said, are you insane? Why can't they e-mail it? He said Dr. God had to have it. I said, can I text Dr. God? He said, no, but I'll give him your number. He talked to someone at Mt. Sinai Queens and gave me his phone so she could get my name and info. It was nuts. By this time, I was seriously ticked off at Dr. God, Dr. Doctor and anyone else who would walk in. My sister was getting so upset. Every single doctor that walked in there (and there were A LOT) said something different. It was so frustrating. Then Dr. Doctor took my sister off the oxygen. "To see how she'd do." And he never came back. When the night nurse came on, she took one look at my sister's vitals and said, oh no. That oxygen is going right back on you! And she told me I should NOT have to go pick stuff up! She also said that clearly they weren't going to do any procedure tonight, especially if Dr. God needed the CD, so she got my sister something to eat. Her name was Odalus and she was AWESOME. I felt ok going home for the night knowing Odalus was in charge. I'm grateful that Lenox Hill was a convenient-ish subway ride away, but boy I missed the easy commute to my apartment from Mt. Sinai Queens. I called a friend before I got on the subway and rather lost it on the phone. He was a good friend to listen.

When I got up Sunday morning, I called our mom to see what time they were leaving. They were getting ready for the eight hour drive and would be leaving momentarily. So not only would I spend the day worried about my sister, the procedure, the CD and all that, but I would have to worry about my family driving to New York. My father hates New York and he hates driving in unfamiliar cities. Adding to that being worried about my sister made it all a recipe for disaster. But they would not be dissuaded. I got into the city and stopped at a diner across the street from Lenox Hill and had some breakfast. Neither my sister or I were eating very well during this whole ordeal - we were too nervous and upset most of the time. But I thought I should try to get something in my stomach before the day got started.

I got to my sister's room and discovered that there was no way they could e-mail any of that information to Dr. God. I would actually have to go physically pick up the CD, once it was copied. Apparently, there were people who called off sick and they were having a hard time finding someone to do it. This was becoming ridiculous. Dr. God actually called me and said he had to have it before he could do the procedure. He had the deepest voice I've ever heard and sounded very smooth. The other doctors were rather awed that I had talked to Dr. God. I started kidding my sister that I could hear angels sing whenever Dr. God's name was mentioned.

Finally the stupid CD was ready and off I went to pick it up. I asked the tech at Mt. Sinai Queens exactly what I needed to bring with me - did I need to bring a note from my sister? Anything like that? No, the tech said, I just needed to bring my photo ID since I was signing for it. I said ok, I'm on my way! My sister wrote a release note anyway, just in case. So off I went. I had good subway karma, took the 6 downtown, transferred and got right onto an N train. One stop and up the subway goes to Queensboro Plaza, which is outdoors and phone coverage turns back on. Immediately, my phone vibrates and I see I have a voice mail. It's the gal from Mt. Sinai Queens, saying that actually, not only did I need a letter from my sister, but I also needed HER photo ID. I started crying on the subway. That's what I do when I'm tired, I cry. Add in being worried and it was a recipe for sobbing. I thought, I AM NOT GOING BACK! I AM NOT LEAVING WITHOUT THAT CD! I tried to calm myself down and figure out what I could say to get that CD. By the time I got to the hospital and to the right desk, I was done. I asked for the tech and then started crying and couldn't speak anymore. She said, 'it's fine, it's fine, when you didn't answer the phone, I called the hospital and talked to your sister's nurse and they faxed everything over. I have the forms. It's fine.' Too late. I was gone. I couldn't get my breath, couldn't stop crying, no one would look at me. It was embarrassing, but I had finally had enough. I signed all the forms, got the stupid CD, and decided to take a cab back to the city because I didn't want to cry all over the subway. I got a green cab right outside the hospital and asked him to take me to Lenox Hill. He said, 'oh, that's the heart hospital, right?" More crying. He was very nice, got me there quickly and said 'god bless you and your sister' when I got out.

I half expected a brass band or something when I got to my sister's room. I had finally calmed down and could laugh about how incredibly stupid the whole thing was. After a couple of hours, finally Dr. God arrived. Oh my. He was ridiculously good looking, with that voice. He was wearing an obviously expensive European three-piece suit and I swear I could maybe really hear the angels singing when he talked. I immediately changed his name to Dr. Wonderful. Not only did all the other doctors think he's wonderful, but I get the feeling Dr. Wonderful also thinks he's wonderful. After a few minutes, my sister and I thought he was wonderful, too. He was actually very reassuring, never condescending, explained everything to us quite clearly. When he walked in, he exclaimed after seeing my sister, "Wow, you ARE young!" He was also a winker. I am certain he is going to have his own reality show very soon. He laughed when he picked up the CD and said "This is mine, right?" I rolled my eyes, but at least he appreciated the absurdity of the whole thing. He went to look at the CD and came back and said, yeah, she needed the procedure. He said because she was young, she would want to have her quality of life back. If she were older, then maybe the procedure wouldn't be the right thing, but since she has a teenager, she wouldn't want to be constantly weak and maybe on oxygen all the time. He thought the doctors at Mt. Sinai Queens underestimated the size of the embolism. He said they'd do the procedure in a couple of hours.

a picture of the medicine machine, from the 'net

As I understand the procedure, they put two catheters into my sister, which would have wires in them leading up to her lungs. Dr. Wonderful would manipulate the wires, making sure they were right on top of the clots, and then medicine would drip onto the clots, breaking them up. Apparently, the medicine is the tPA, but they only use 10% concentration. He gave us the risks, which he assured us were less than 1% that something bad would happen. She had to be flat on her back, hooked up to these drips, for twelve hours. Then they'd take them out, along with the other things they put on top of the wires to keep them from moving, do tests and see if they had worked the way they were supposed to. OK. Sounded reasonable. A tech came and gave my sister an echo test on her legs, to see if there were any clots (there were, but Dr. Wonderful said that wouldn't affect his doing the procedure). They took my sister up to the O/R, since Dr. Wonderful wanted to be finished in time for the Giants game, oy, and I waited in her room. My family was closer to NYC, but still not at my place. Even though Dr. Wonderful had said the procedure would take about a half hour, my sister didn't come down for over an hour. Imagine the panicking. But finally her nurse said she was on the way back down. She got back to the room almost at the same time as my family hit Queens in the car. They made me leave the room because all the monitors and medicine machines were large and had to be arranged just so in my sister's room. While in the hallway, Dr. Wonderful told me the procedure went beautifully, just as he would've liked. He even talked to my mom on the phone and reassured her. He said he'd be back in the morning, but that all was well. Tons of doctors and nurses wanted to come look in my sister's room because this procedure is only a couple of years old and they haven't seen the machinery before. He gave me the phone back and I directed my nephew on how to get to my apartment. Crazy crazy. They found a place to park and said they'd get something to eat until I got there.

All the machines in my sister's room reminded me of a particularly depressing episode of Law and Order, but I kept that to myself. If you're familiar with the show, I'll fill you in another time, if you'd like.

You know what? I'm going to have to go three on this post. This one is way too long, too. Next post will be about the family visit, the release from the hospital, and the recuperating in Astoria...