Posts Tagged ‘Plastic Surgeon’

How I became the Funky Heart

June 8, 2009

It’s a pretty interesting story. You see, I was born on another planet. Right before the planet self destructed, my father placed me in a spaceship and sent me towards Earth –

No, wait a minute, that’s someone else’s story. Sorry about that! This is more of a Dragnet type of story… the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I had gone to The University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) Hospital to have the Fontan procedure, and it had gone wrong. Scar tissue normally forms over your heart after you have open heart surgery, and surgical teams know that and expect it. I had had two previous heart surgeries, so I am sure they felt like there was a good chance that I could have more than usual. But what they didn’t know was that there was a lot more scar tissue than normal, and that it had formed adhesions with the back of my breastbone.

So when they split my ribcage that scar tissue tore, and blood went everywhere. The surgery was canceled and I needed 20+ units of blood to survive the operation. So even though I never had the Fontan, I got all the pain associated with having heart surgery.

*Sigh* The fun was just beginning. I got better and was sent home. I was recovering but the incision wasn’t healing, and finally began to leak pus. Back to the local hospital, where I was quickly transferred to a larger hospital. There the Cardiological team studied me, and finally said “Yep! It’s infected!”

OK, doc, what do we do?

Debridement!

Wikipedia says that debridement is “the medical removal of a patients dead, damaged, or infected tissue to improve the healing potential of the remaining healthy tissue.” How that works in the real world is they sedate you, haul you down to the Operating Room, and scrape out the infected tissue. It’s not fun.

So I was debrided. They re-opened my incision, scraped the dead tissue out, packed the incision with gauze and covered me with a large bandage, sent me for a short stay in Recovery and then back to my room. And not knowing any better, I went along with this.

Important Safety Tip: For a Debridement to work, you’ve got to get all of the dead and infected tissue out. The best way to do this is to 1) Scrape like a maniac while in the Operating Room; and 2) give the patient antibiotics. The problem is, my crack team of local cardiologists didn’t think the antibiotics were necessary. So what could have taken one trip to the Operating Room turned into three.

I was not happy. They opened up my bandages and peeled back the gauze every day, and when they said “Looks like we have to debride again” I literally cried. What in the world was going on here? Why couldn’t I get any better?

And this time, there was no safety in numbers – I had a Cardiological Service, with several doctors who rotated. I saw a different doctor every day, and every one of them had a different opinion:

“I think we can get you out of here by the end of the week.”

“Two weeks, tops.”

“At least two more weeks.”

“I don’t feel comfortable making a prediction yet.”

After that third debridment we had a late night visitor. A nurse came in, made small talk with Daddy and I, and finally said, “Most of the nurses think you need to seriously think about going somewhere else.”

Now THAT is a sign – saying such a thing can get a nurse fired, so when they get to the point that they are advising the patient to grab his stuff and go, listen carefully. So Daddy called the Cardiologists at UAB the next day. They took care of all the arrangements to return and have me admitted.

The first UAB doctor I saw was not a Cardiologist, but a Plastic Surgeon. “Here’s the plan,” he said after he examined me. “We’re going to start you some antibiotics and run them around the clock. I want you to drink a serving of Ensure at each meal and before bed to promote tissue growth. And then I am going to take a long weekend.”

Huh?

“My daughter is graduating college, so I’ll be out of town. And it’ll take some time to see if the antibiotics and the Ensure are working. I’ll examine you when I return and we’ll plan what to do then.”

So the time passed, and Tuesday morning, as promised, he was back and examined me again. “It’s going to take a while to heal, but we’re on our way. I don’t see the need to do any more debridements.”

In two days I was on the way home. I spent six days in Alabama, while my “adventure” at the other hospital had cost me seven weeks. And I came out knowing that the only one looking out for me all the time was – me! So I needed to stop being passive and start taking an active part of my health care.

And that’s where the Funky Heart was born.

Advertisements