21 days in hospital waiting rooms can bring out the best and worse in anyone. I'd like to share with you some of my "adventures" in the St. Vincent CVICU waiting room.
We entered the hospital July 7th (I think) I slept on a fold out chair the first 2 nights. The surgery lasted about 7 1/2 hours. Most of my first day in the waiting room consisted of hugging myself, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket my friend had lent to me and crying. Aortic Aneurysm and 3 blocked arteries kept my head bowed in prayer and emotional exhaustion. Every time the door to the waiting room opened or the phone there rang I jumped. I realize there are much more complicated and much longer surgeries than we went through but this was My Husband and time only inched by. Out of surgery and into CVICU we were allowed to go in for only a few minutes. Tubes everywhere, beeping sounds echoing off the walls, nurses scrambling to get stuff done. I stood dumbstruck even though we had been through this once before. You never get used to seeing your loved one with all the medical bells and whistles! The second day they tried to remove the vent, and after 3 hours all his numbers crashed and they had to reintubate. That led to 10 or so days on the vent. That's where my waiting room adventures began.
My son brought me an air mattress and pumped it up for me. I circled my "temporary home space" with chairs and a coffee table. Do you remember playing house under a tree using the roots sticking out as walls for your rooms? That's what I did! I created my space! Bags of clothes and toiletries, snack bags friends had brought, an outlet for my laptop and phone charger, books, pens and paper. Last but not least my photo of my daughter and her family. My son didn't have a photo handy or he would have been there as well.
Something happens in an ICU waiting room. Spirituality that you may have thought was a thing of the past oozes to the surface. You are alone most of the time so you start looking around at others in the same sort of situations, some much worse than others, but none of them good or they wouldn't be in ICU.
I began to make my moves into these peoples lives, and situations. It isn't hard. Just say "hello, who are you here with?" and it all comes spilling out.
One couple I was drawn to in the waiting room had had a huge bunch of family earlier. I didn't want to intrude on that. So I waited until they had filtered out. I went over and said my line"hello, who are you here with" "my son, answered a man about my age, "he hung himself" the words almost vomited out of him. "Oh Jesus what do I say now?" All I could think of to do was stick my arms out in his face to show my scars and said"I understand." We talked about 2 hours. I told them I was bipolar and had had some pretty bad episodes. Come to find out the father had just been diagnosed as bipolar and had a ton of questions about the things I had experienced. His son had had long, long battles with drug addiction and mental illness, but refused to take his MEDs because they made him feel funny. We wept, prayed, and embraced before they went back for visiting hours. Later their son was moved to the psych unit and I didn't see them again. I think of them this night while I am safe at home with a recovering husband.
The African Americans tended to stay at one end of the waiting room and the Caucasians at the other. This just wouldn't do for me. One day around lunch time a black family was eating at the break room table when I mentioned how good that the food looked. (Biggest downfall at St. Vincent's was the food quality and the exorbitant prices) They gathered me up to the table and fixed me a plate and the conversation flowed like warm honey. I learned all about the Auntie and her condition while they asked about my husband and his condition. Miss Diane wrapped her arms around me every chance she got after that lunchtime encounter! I loved it.
One morning, cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I met my new friend Antoinette. She smiled at me and I fell in love with this young black woman. She told me she had ridden a bus from Virginia to be with her"Momma" grandmother. Antoinette turned 24 in the ICU waiting room while she sat and waited her turn to go feed"Momma"and sit with her for a while. We gave her a makeshift Birthday party with cupcakes and candles! The whole waiting room gang sang Happy Birthday to her! We spent a good bit of time together, talking about what her life was about and what her future held. She always greeted me with a big hug and a kiss when I had been away for a couple of hours. When her mom left to go back to work she put me in charge of watching over her girls. I got a call yesterday from Antoinette and she said her "Momma" had passed. I so wanted to hold her and let her know everything would be alright. Antoinette wants to be a chef and I am pulling for her. I know we will stay in touch just from that time in the waiting room.
Then I met Doris. I had seen her go in and out of ICU a number of times. But she stayed in the room with her husband most of the time. Tom, her husband, was conscious and able to talk, unlike mine. One night as I was coming in from dinner and she was leaving to catch a bite, we stopped and acknowledged having seen one another. She quickly told me her story. I couldn't help myself when she said that they had been in the ICU for over 5 weeks, I embraced her as if I had known her for years. I wasn't too sure how that was going to sit with her. She seemed very prim and proper and I thought I had really stepped over my bounds. Tom had had multiple surgeries and he was very critical. But Doris was a praying woman and trusted God to bring him through. That night I couldn't sleep, 10 passed 11 passed 12 and then Doris rushed through the door and plopped into my little space and sobbed. I scrambled up from my mattress (not easy for a woman of my age and size) and made for her side. I wrapped my arms around her and began to pray. Soon she was able to get out a complete sentence and said that"Tom had taken a critical turn and they had no idea what was happening" We stayed up till about 2am talking, getting to know each other, praying some more, all the while I stroked her arm and patted her back. I was afraid I was violating her personal space (this was a stranger after all) when she turned to me and said" you are just like my best friend Bettie" "she is always touching and patting just like you are doing." I met Bettie the next day and I watched her love on her best friend, patting and stroking her arm, praying. Doris needed someone to be there and I guess God just kept me awake. Unfortunately, Tom passed 3 days later. I will never forget Doris and how I fell in love with another stranger in ICU. We exchanged information the day Tom passed and then she was gone from the waiting room, but not from my heart and soul. I was so sad. I missed her every day that I remained there.
My momma taught me well not to judge a book by its cover. There was a young woman that I had noticed and we had said hello and exchanged a little information about our loved ones in the ICU. From the outside one might think she was a little rough. Dark glasses, baseball hat turned backwards, T-shirts with language that could put some people off. But still I wanted in. I wanted to know her. However, I didn't get the chance to do that. One day she had gone down to have a smoke and her husband and father of a precious 5 year old, died. One moment he was from all appearances fine and the next moment gone. Life is so friggin fragile.
When you spend a long time in ICU waiting rooms the losses are so painfully bound to happen.
My husband finally got off the vent and I moved my little nest into his room so we could be together again. I didn't know what a toll the waiting room had taken on me until I sat quietly apart from it. I began to tremble and weep letting out all the pain I had been carrying for some many people. You know a gift (like compassion and empathy) can become a curse if you are not careful. I slept while Hartley slept and we would visit a little ( it was hard for him to talk after being on the vent for so many days) and we would hold hands. I was so glad when he was off the feeding tube and we could have coffee together once again.
CVICU opened my heart and soul in a way that I had not experienced for some time. It is a curse and a blessing to be in that situation. If you find yourself there, just say "Hello, who are you here with?" and if you are open, you are in for an adventure!
Peace, till we visit again, when I introduce you to Sister Mary Francis!and another special moment that happened in the CVICU.
P.S. If you have had experiences in an ICU waiting room feel free to share them with me in the comment section. Peace.
