They took my Ducky diaper pin! I laid on that narrow table under the fluoroscope as they were getting ready to prep me for the coming procedure when they removed my drain bag and took my ducky safety pin along with it. I didn’t notice the loss until later when I couldn’t fasten my new drain bag when it was time to leave. What a time to lose my diaper pin. I needed that pin to hold my drain bag so I didn’t rip out my drain tube.

Perhaps I should start over from the beginning. I was born on a … Oh, I see, too far back you think. Okay, I’ll fast forward to the recent past.

As regular readers of this blog knows I have a few medical problems. At the beginning of this summer I started a treatment of radiation therapy for my pancreas problems. Unfortunately the treatment doesn’t seem to be working. At first the signs were encouraging as my anomalous pancreatic fluid output dropped by over half but then my perverse body’s immune system kicked in and not only repaired the pancreatic radiation damage but seemed to strengthen the offending pancreas remnant. My anomalous pancreatic drain totals are now higher than ever. I don’t wish to complain but I am getting awfully tired of having tubes stuck in my back that tend to attract infections.

Anyway about a month after the last radiation treatment I had to do a followup visit to the doctors. At the time all seemed well. My pancreatic daily drain totals were down (a good thing) and the CT scan showed that my portal vein had healed (a very, very good thing). This latter was verified by the IR surgeons before I left the hospital.

That’s when things started going downhill. As my body recovered from the radiation my daily drain totals skyrocketed, I got intestinal cramps, diarrhea and bleeding , slept a lot and was generally weak and was well, BLAH. On top of all that the doctor in charge of my treatment had retired and as far as I could tell no one was in charge. Something had to be done!

Last week I went back to the hospital for a “routine” CT scan and drain tube check with the additional objective of trying to nail down who’s taking over my treatment. That’s when they took my ducky diaper pin.

The visit started out as usual. We actually got there a little early so we would have plenty of time to get an IV put in by an IV specialist. This is actually the most difficult and painful part of the experience. My veins have become so hardened and spasmodic from years of extreme IV treatments that inserting an IV needle is no easy task. I always suggest that they close the doors so that my blood curdling screams don’t scare away patients. The procedure does little for one’s self image.

Once the IV is in place I don’t like to move my arm much because it is so easy for me to have an IV blowout. With help I was wheeled in for the CT scan. The night before I started my required premeditation procedure (prednisone and benadryl) because over the years I have become allergic to the IV contrast fluid they pump into my body.

After the CT scan I was moved to the holding area for my IR tube check. This is where my mind started going numb and I started to lose track of things. The IR area seemed to have had a lot of turnover lately (yes, we’ve been going there for far too long). Anyway we got a new nurse for the procedure and I got to talking and kidding with her as I was taken into surgery.

Once in surgery I was positioned on the table under the fluoroscope. I was hooked up with the usual monitoring devices (e.g., heart, blood pressure, oxygen, etc. – I had wires and tubes protruding from everywhere). I guess I was a little unsteady getting onto the table or perhaps it was just that the table was so narrow but the nurse and her aids seemed concerned that I might fall off. Their concern distracted me as they removed my old drain bag and hooked up a syringe full of contrast fluid to my tube. As a result I didn’t notice that they had removed my ducky diaper pin along with my old bag until later in the recovery room.

When all was ready the surgeon came in and checked my internal tube positioning. It wasn’t correct, a fact I knew since we measure the tube’s position externally daily and it had come out about an inch. Well he pushed that tube back in and carefully positioned it correctly. When he was done he then checked how long this particular tube had been used. The tube had been used for a long time so he decided that it would be prudent to go ahead and replace it.

I had to be prepped and sterilized before the replacement procedure could begin. Since the tube was inserted into my back I had to roll over onto my side so they could have access to the insertion site. As I started to roll over my nurse suddenly freaked out.

“Don’t move,” she commanded (and where had I heard that before). “We don’t want you to fall off.”

Wishing to reassure her I replied, ”Don’t worry. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Continuing I added, “The worst wouldn’t be that bad. I could fall off and crack my head open on the floor. I could then sue her and the hospital for millions. She’d, of course, lose her job and be blackballed from her profession. Falling into a deep depression as her life spiraled out of control she’d turn to alcohol and drugs. Broke and depressed she’d turn to crime to support her pathetic habits. Caught and convicted she’d then have to spend the rest of her life behind prison bars eking out a miserable squalid existence.”

The sad thing about this scenario would be that she’d refuse to accept responsibility and would blame me for her plight! Oh well, it wouldn’t bother me. I’d be living the high life from those court settlement millions.

For some reason the nurse was less than reassured by my reply. She laughed nervously not really appreciating the “humor” but then she was very young. I was amused.

Eventually they obtained some wedges and propped me into position. Then they scrubbed me with the usual blue-green antiseptic and draped a sterile cover over my body. Then pumping joy juice into my IV they proceeded with the tube replacement. The joy juice doesn’t work as well as it used to so I easily felt them stitch my new tube in place. A couple of times I involuntarily jump as the needle was inserted into my flesh.

Then I went to recovery where I discovered my missing diaper pin. They found a substitute safety pin but I like the larger sizes because the feeling in my fingers is slowly vanishing being replaced by a persistent numbness.

Afterwords we visited the offices of our retired doctor and the radiologist in order to figure out who’s in charge now and what we do next where we found out we have to get an evaluation from the radiologist before proceeding. He was on vacation and will not be back until next week. That’s where things stand now.

Next we went home where I suffered the usual allergic reactions to a tube check (e.g., low blood pressure, body rash and itching, and loose bowels). Grandmas Oddball went out and bought some suitable new diaper pins but they were kind of bland (couldn’t find any yellow duck heads) just don’t feel the same to me. I’m recovering now and will provide a further update when I have something useful to report.

Tags: medical update

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