The Rabbi in the Emergency Room, cont.

This story continues from the post before this one…

So a priest never came. But soon a man in black and a yarmulke passed by me and joined the family at the Quiet Room. The man turned out to be a rabbi who had come at the summons of this family in need. They shook the rabbi’s hand and crowded into the room all together. Then I heard the low murmurings of prayers being said.

When the rabbi left the room with some of the family members around him they thanked him profusely and tearfully for coming. He spoke to them quietly for a few minutes more then turned and walked away in my direction.

I had to stop the rabbi as he passed. I felt I wanted to say something to him. “Rabbi” I said, “You came for a family who had been calling for a priest?” He said, ” Yes, I heard about the call and knew the priest couldn’t come, so I came to see if I could be of service.” I said, ” Thank you, Rabbi, you’re a good man.” He shook my husband’s hand and went on his way.

If you have questions, I probably had the same ones. Why did a seemingly Christian family accept a rabbi so simply and easily? How did the rabbi hear about the call?

I don’t think I need to ask why the rabbi came to the side of a Christian man who had died. As I said the rabbi is a good man.

maryt

The Rabbi in the Emergency Room

While waiting in the emergency room on New Year’s Eve about 6 o’clock at night, I noticed a room nearby labeled “The Quiet Room.” I wondered what it was for — an upset, disturbed patient, maybe.

But then, unobtrusively, a stretcher on which what appeared to be a pale, seemingly comatose man was wheeled into the room. As the last staff person left the room she said, “I’m going to turn out the light Mr. ____ so you can rest.”

It wasn’t long before a cluster of people crowded up to the room and went inside. A wailing rose up, crying, and gnashing of teeth (it seemed), all the distraught voices.

I thought, “This man has died. This is his family and they’ve just been notified. The hospital staff member had spoken to a dead man.”

The crying and keening went on for some time as others arrived. Some took a moment to steel themselves before entering the room.

Several members of the family began asking for a priest. They were, maybe Greek, maybe Italian, dark hair and skin, medium height for most of the men, short women.

The young boy who manned the phones, emergency room facilitator you might call him, began calling around. It was now about 9 o’clock at night. I guessed he would try to contact the nearest parish for a priest on duty who would come quickly to give the man Last Rites.

The family in the room were quieter, but each time another person arrived, the wailing and crying would start again. By this time there were, maybe, 20 people in the room and just outside.

When my father-in-law died over 30 years ago, I remember we did go to the hospital but there were only 4 or 5 of us. This show of devotion and condolences was astonishing.

The family members continued to wait but then came out to the young man at the desk and asked again. He was kind to them and explained he had calls in to find a priest. It might have been 45 minutes since they had first asked, too long in my estimation. Where was a priest?

Continued in next post January 11, 2007.

maryt

Dystonic Phenergan

What? You never heard of it? Well I became intimately familiar with dystonic Phenergan during a recent visit to the emergency room.

Okay, so I’m in the emergency room for pretty severe pain in my abdomen which turned out to be diverticulitis, but we don’t have to get into that end of it

They give me morphine for the pain right away and (I don’t know this at the time) they add the Phenergan to keep me from feeling nauseous which morphine has a tendancy to do. Now at first I’m pretty happy because the pain goes away almost immediately, but then I begin to feel, and it’s hard to describe the sensation, maybe, overdosed. And I say it to my husband.

For the next few hours ( it was New Year’s Eve – yeah, New Year’s Eve, so?) I feel a grogginess but not enough to want to stop the morphine. I figure I’m in no danger surrounded by all these doctors and nurses, you know. I’m not driving or doing a surgical procedure, right?

But then I begin to fade and feel weak, and I tell my husband, “Get somebody, Vin, I’m feeling strange.” I begin to hyperventilate and when the nurse doesn’t come, I call, “Vin, hurry” in a raspy, strangled voice.

And they do hurry, asking “Mary, what’s wrong? Mary? Looks like she’s having a panic attack.” “Mary, there’s nothing to be anxious about, you’re in good hands.” But the nurse says, “Look, her arms are dropping, she can’t hold them up. “

By this time tears are dripping out of the corners of my eyes, I can’t speak above a whisper, my breathe is coming in short gasps and I can’t maintain focus. I don’t know who thought of the diagnosis first, the doctor or the nurse, but one of them says, “Wait, I know exactly what this is…” And it seems she sends for something, and another nurse approaches the other side of the bed and gives me an injection either directly into my body (I didn’t feel anything) or the intravenous.

I whisper to my husband I’m thirsty and he has to lift my head to take a drink. I couldn’t lift it myself. But I come back quickly, maybe five minutes, and I know I’m coming out of it. In ten minutes time I’m back to normal.

__________________________________________

I wanted to know what happened. The doctor said I have the information for you right away. What antidote had they given me? “Benadryl,” said the nurse. Benadryl! I had had an allergic reaction to a drug.

Here’s the information they gave me:

You are having a muscular reaction to a drug you have taken. This can cause tightening or stiffening of the muscles of the eyes, tongue, jaw, neck, back arms and legs. It also causes a feeling of sadness and despair. Due to the severity of the spasm and the feeling that you cannot move normally, you may feel a lot of anxiety. If untreated, this reaction would last until the drug is eliminated from your body and could take up to three days. However, you have been treated with an antidote, to reverse this reaction. Benadryl (diphenhydramine), Cogentin or Artane are often used for this purpose.

Most dystonic reactions are due to a class of drugs called phenothiazines. This includes anti-nausea drugs such as Compazine, Phenergan, Tigan, Inaspine and others. If you have reacted to one drug in this class, any drug in this class will probably cause the same reaction. Unless specifically advised by your doctor who knows about this reaction, do not take the offending drug ever again.

Was I scared? You bet. Do I have any complaints about response of the emergency room personnel? Absolutely not. As a matter of fact I’m grateful for their speedy reaction and realization of what was happening to me.

Have I learned anything from my experience (don’t they always ask that?)? Oh yes, of course, avoid Phenergan and such drugs forever and this is probably something I ought to keep in mind in the future: Never, ever go to the emergency room on New Year’s Eve.

maryt

New Year’s resolutions

Matt has asked that we tag our New Year’s Resolutions with the tag “2007 resolutions.” An excellent idea.

I’ve never been into resolutions because I’ve always known I wouldn’t stick to them. But this year I have some thoughts that I’ll put in the form of resolutions.

RESOLUTION #1
I’ve always wished I could make a New Year’s resolution to quit smoking, but I’ve never done it. Made a New Year’s resolution that is, BUT in February 2005 I did quit smoking and I’ve been smoke-free ever since. Next month I will have been cigarette-free for 2 years. So my first resolution for 2007 is to go on, to continue to stay quit, to be smoke-free next year, and the year after that, and the year after that…

The fact that I quit smoking relates to my second resolution in a way:

RESOLUTION #2
On December 31, 2006 I went to the hospital emergency room with strong pain in my abdomen. My gastroenterologist had said on the phone that with my history of diverticulitis I should go because I needed intravenous fluids and antibiotics to treat it.

I went, and as the New Year was ushered in, I was admitted, given a bed and a gown, and hooked up to an IV. That was the beginning of a 5 and a half day stay in the hospital. I was completely unprepared for the stay. I had come with nothing — no change of clothes, no toothbrush, no body wash, no deodorant, no sense of why I was being kept there (Couldn’t I take medication at home by mouth? No). The nights were noisy, people talking, drawers being slammed open and shut. I couldn’t sleep. The days were interminable. I was pretty upset and continued upset for the remainder of the stay.

The only thing that kept me going besides talking with a wonderful man named Albert Chen who came to the hospital everyday to sit with his dying mother who was in the bed next to me, was my realization of how near impossible it would have been if I were still a pack-a-day smoker.

So my second resolution for 2007 is to be prepared and to be patient. To have a “go” bag with some of the amenities I use everyday ready for an emergency. And to remember there’s nothing like an extended hospital stay (5 and a half days is an extended stay these days) to convince you further of your quit.

RESOLUTION #3
NEVER, EVER, EVER, go to the emergency room on New Year’s Eve!

maryt