Ruptured Spleen

Thank you nurse Helen - you're AWESOME

I was waiting for a long time in the little hospital room.  Just me and my thoughts.  I was whimpering "please somebody help me".  I let it all go.  I was rehearsing, as I have so many times, the ultimate worst case scenario: "they're going to find something and it will be really really bad". I was wallowing in my misery.

Finally, the nurse came.  Her name was Helen and she spoke Dutch.   I begged her for some pain medication.   But, unfortunately, she said "not yet".  I first needed to see the doctor so that he could diagnose what was wrong.  Helen asked some basic stuff about what happened.  I told her I could feel my toes and that I had gotten up and walked.  "So, no broken back or anything", I said.

The doctor did not speak English, nor did any of the hospital staff.  So, all the communication was done through Helen.  She said that they'd would do a CT scan to see if there was anything wrong with my internal organs.  The one thing I will never forget about this part is the lifting from my bed onto the gurney; from the gurney onto the table for the CT scan and back.  It was done with a sheet.  Four people, one at each corner. I was SCREAMING with pain every time.

Then, finally, pain medication.  Aaahhh;  what a relief.  What a wonderful feeling;  my body finally relaxed.

But then the doctor and Helen came back.  My heart was pounding in my throat, panic again gripped me;   Here it was; my death sentence.  I could hardly hear; "ruptured spleen, life threatening only if there is bleeding and no surgery, probability of surgery is 50%."     Pffff, I was silently elated: "they found what's wrong; it is not THAT bad" and then "See, I am not a cry baby"

"I can handle this" I thought, feeling strong again.

So, basically they were going to monitor whether there was internal bleeding.  The hope was that the spleen would heal itself.  Best case scenario was an overnight in intensive care.  Worst case scenario; surgery (50% chance).

I was prepped for the intensive care, which meant even more tubes in my body.  Including one thru my nose, throat and into my stomach.  I had to swallow it and just wanted to pull that f**king thing out the whole time.  I couldn't get used to the horrible feeling, but I knew it was necessary to relieve the spleen.   After all this was done, we had to wait and see if the spleen was going to hold up.  Every 2 hours they would draw some blood to check.

Helen gave me constant updates on David and the girls.  From the outset she made me feel at peace.  "No need to worry; they're fine, just hanging in the lobby;  David's broken bones are not life-threatening".  She would tell me how hospital staff was taking the girls to the cafeteria to eat and to the little outside playground to play.  I was so proud of them.  They were such troopers.
But, I was concerned about David.  He was still waiting to be seen.  WITHOUT PAIN MEDICATION.   Helen explained that she and David were also dealing with the logistics of what to do with the girls, calling family, etc. now that I needed to stay in the hospital; and he too, most likely.

David ended up sitting on a steel bench in the waiting area, being basically ignored (bones are not life threatening), waiting and waiting for FIVE HOURS in excruciating pain. WITHOUT PAIN MEDICATION.  Really, FIVE HOURS just staring at the soda machine clock right in front of him.  Just inhumane.

It slowly dawned on me; our vacation was over; we were not flying back together; I would not take care of the girls;  neither would David; who would??  I was not going back to work on Monday; our world was turned upside down.  But, I did not panic.  And I thank Helen for that.   I surrendered to her expertise, but, more importantly, her warmth and comfort.   She was awesome.  Another beautiful memory that I am truly grateful for.

Then, after a few hours, things took a bad turn.  The doctor was concerned about the blood levels and wanted to transport me immediately to the big hospital in Palma de Mallorca; more than an hour away.   There was a high probability that I'd need surgery.  And there would be surgical staff available after hours in Palma, not where we were.  

Ok, that was really scary.  "What if the bleeding gets worse while in transit?  Will there be enough time to get me ready for surgery then?". I thought.   A ping of panic came back.  But, again,  Helen was there to comfort me.  We figured that it would be too scary for the girls to see me like this with all the tubes.   As I had to be wheeled through the lobby, we decided that the girls would be taken to the playground.  I did not get to say goodbye to them, or David.

Little did I know that I would not see David, or anybody else I knew, for 4 days.  And I would not see the girls for 3 weeks...


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