I was still oxygen-dependent. Nursing homes don't have oxygen dispensers built into the walls like hospitals do. Instead they use concentrators like the one on the left. Concentrators suck in regular room air and remove all the nasty things like nitrogen, argon and carbon dioxide (and, presumably, bird dander, had there been any) and deliver 100% pure oxygen to the patient. Supposedly. More than one nurse has voiced her doubts to me about this remarkable alchemy. So of course I was hooked up to the concentrator. The tubing was attached to my neck and aligned with my trach so that the oxygen would proceed directly to my lungs without passing "Go" or collecting $200.00. I named the little guy R2D2 because that's what he reminded me of, and he became my constant companion. He ran 24/7 and helped me breathe. And he was a better conversationalist than Joe. Bear in mind that at this point I still couldn't walk or breathe on my own, so R2 and I were basically joined at the hip. My little buddy supplied the oxygen I needed, but he couldn't fix everything. At the risk of getting a bit gross, I had loads of sputum (or is it phlegm? I don't know the difference) in my lungs, most of which I could not cough up on my own. Whenever that happened it was suctioned out by a nurse. They stuck a tube into the hole in my neck that was attached to a kind of vacuum and literally just sucked all that nasty stuff right out. Every time they did it I gagged, so it wasn't particularly pleasant, but it did make breathing a lot easier. Only problem was, the gunk that was coming up was bloody. Apparently at this point in my recovery it shouldn't have been, because the staff seemed concerned about it. Turns out they were right.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
R2D2
I was still oxygen-dependent. Nursing homes don't have oxygen dispensers built into the walls like hospitals do. Instead they use concentrators like the one on the left. Concentrators suck in regular room air and remove all the nasty things like nitrogen, argon and carbon dioxide (and, presumably, bird dander, had there been any) and deliver 100% pure oxygen to the patient. Supposedly. More than one nurse has voiced her doubts to me about this remarkable alchemy. So of course I was hooked up to the concentrator. The tubing was attached to my neck and aligned with my trach so that the oxygen would proceed directly to my lungs without passing "Go" or collecting $200.00. I named the little guy R2D2 because that's what he reminded me of, and he became my constant companion. He ran 24/7 and helped me breathe. And he was a better conversationalist than Joe. Bear in mind that at this point I still couldn't walk or breathe on my own, so R2 and I were basically joined at the hip. My little buddy supplied the oxygen I needed, but he couldn't fix everything. At the risk of getting a bit gross, I had loads of sputum (or is it phlegm? I don't know the difference) in my lungs, most of which I could not cough up on my own. Whenever that happened it was suctioned out by a nurse. They stuck a tube into the hole in my neck that was attached to a kind of vacuum and literally just sucked all that nasty stuff right out. Every time they did it I gagged, so it wasn't particularly pleasant, but it did make breathing a lot easier. Only problem was, the gunk that was coming up was bloody. Apparently at this point in my recovery it shouldn't have been, because the staff seemed concerned about it. Turns out they were right.
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just so you know, still reading
ReplyDeletejust no comments cuz then ill never get up to date