We have now reached 2019! Turns out it takes a long time to get a cerebral angiogram scheduled at a hospital like OHSU.
It's angiogram day. Yes, an angiogram is a fairly low-risk thing as far as invasive procedures go, but it still required a full day at the hospital, careful monitoring, and a bit of recovery. The angiogram took a little less than an hour and then I was called back up to the recovery wing to see him. He was tired and thirsty, but everything had gone just fine. He told me they had even "Let him see his swirl!" which is what we were now calling the AVM.
We spent a few hours resting and waiting. Tim for obvious reasons and me because I was now running on about 2 hours of sleep.
For most angiograms, they go in through the femoral artery, so there's some concern about it causing a hematoma, which is a collection of blood outside of blood vessels. Basically, bleeding into the leg. They wanted to make sure there was no crazy bleeding, stroke, or any other awful side effects. At this point it was close to 11:00 AM (we had arrived at the hospital around 5:45 AM).
Tim's dad and stepmom stopped by to say hi, Tim ate a bit of breakfast, and the nurse even got him up and out of his bed so he could try walking a lap around the floor. He was stiff and sore, but he made it, no problem! Everything was looking good and around 11:30ish he got discharged.
Now, if you know anything about the men in Tim's family, you'll know that they are stubborn as hell. Tim refused to let us coax him into a wheelchair and instead hobbled through the Procedural Care Unit, out to the elevators, and then across the lobby of the hospital to the main doors. I left him with his dad and stepmom and went to grab the car from the parking garage.
I got to the car and made it back over to the pickup area (gosh, OHSU is massive). As I was waiting in the loading zone, my phone started ringing. I saw that it was from his stepmom and figured she was just calling to check and see where they should look for me. The call went something like this:
Her: "Hey so Tim wasn't feeling very well and he ended up passing out."
Me: "WHAT?! IS HE OK?"
Her: "Yeah, he said he wanted to sit down and right as he did he just passed out. There's a doctor helping us. I'm not sure what they're going to do."
Me: "Ok."
Her: "Yeah, you should go park the car. They're taking him to the emergency room."
I drove to the same parking garage that I had just retrieved my car from, frantically found a spot, and sprinted back to the main lobby. After several terrifying minutes of not knowing where to go, the sweet baby angel at the front desk told me she knew exactly where he had been taken and that a member of her staff would take me straight to him.
(I know, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make this all about me, but this part was the worst! Everything was going so well up until this point!)
I walked into the emergency room and there's Tim, laying on a gurney... smiling. Whatttttttt. He laughed and assured me that he was alright. He guessed that he was just wiped out and shouldn't have pushed himself. (YOU THINK?!)
The doctors in the ER did some blood work, monitored his blood pressure and heart rate, and checked his incision. Everything seemed ok, but his potassium levels were low and his blood pressure kept dropping when they had him stand up. They made him drink some electrolyte-type juice, eat a turkey sandwich, and then hooked him up to an IV. It may have been that he was dehydrated or maybe he just needed a bit more rest before going home. (Hey Tim, remember when I said you should let us push you in a wheelchair?)
So yeah... even though he had been discharged at 11:30 AM, we didn't make it home until after 4 PM. It was a long day. I checked his incision one more time, fed him some dinner, and tucked him into bed.
Now we just had to wait another week for the followup with the neurosurgeon.
January 25th
It's angiogram day. Yes, an angiogram is a fairly low-risk thing as far as invasive procedures go, but it still required a full day at the hospital, careful monitoring, and a bit of recovery. The angiogram took a little less than an hour and then I was called back up to the recovery wing to see him. He was tired and thirsty, but everything had gone just fine. He told me they had even "Let him see his swirl!" which is what we were now calling the AVM.
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| Tim Waiting for the Angiogram |
We spent a few hours resting and waiting. Tim for obvious reasons and me because I was now running on about 2 hours of sleep.
For most angiograms, they go in through the femoral artery, so there's some concern about it causing a hematoma, which is a collection of blood outside of blood vessels. Basically, bleeding into the leg. They wanted to make sure there was no crazy bleeding, stroke, or any other awful side effects. At this point it was close to 11:00 AM (we had arrived at the hospital around 5:45 AM).
Tim's dad and stepmom stopped by to say hi, Tim ate a bit of breakfast, and the nurse even got him up and out of his bed so he could try walking a lap around the floor. He was stiff and sore, but he made it, no problem! Everything was looking good and around 11:30ish he got discharged.
Now, if you know anything about the men in Tim's family, you'll know that they are stubborn as hell. Tim refused to let us coax him into a wheelchair and instead hobbled through the Procedural Care Unit, out to the elevators, and then across the lobby of the hospital to the main doors. I left him with his dad and stepmom and went to grab the car from the parking garage.
I got to the car and made it back over to the pickup area (gosh, OHSU is massive). As I was waiting in the loading zone, my phone started ringing. I saw that it was from his stepmom and figured she was just calling to check and see where they should look for me. The call went something like this:
Her: "Hey so Tim wasn't feeling very well and he ended up passing out."
Me: "WHAT?! IS HE OK?"
Her: "Yeah, he said he wanted to sit down and right as he did he just passed out. There's a doctor helping us. I'm not sure what they're going to do."
Me: "Ok."
Her: "Yeah, you should go park the car. They're taking him to the emergency room."
I drove to the same parking garage that I had just retrieved my car from, frantically found a spot, and sprinted back to the main lobby. After several terrifying minutes of not knowing where to go, the sweet baby angel at the front desk told me she knew exactly where he had been taken and that a member of her staff would take me straight to him.
(I know, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make this all about me, but this part was the worst! Everything was going so well up until this point!)
I walked into the emergency room and there's Tim, laying on a gurney... smiling. Whatttttttt. He laughed and assured me that he was alright. He guessed that he was just wiped out and shouldn't have pushed himself. (YOU THINK?!)
The doctors in the ER did some blood work, monitored his blood pressure and heart rate, and checked his incision. Everything seemed ok, but his potassium levels were low and his blood pressure kept dropping when they had him stand up. They made him drink some electrolyte-type juice, eat a turkey sandwich, and then hooked him up to an IV. It may have been that he was dehydrated or maybe he just needed a bit more rest before going home. (Hey Tim, remember when I said you should let us push you in a wheelchair?)
So yeah... even though he had been discharged at 11:30 AM, we didn't make it home until after 4 PM. It was a long day. I checked his incision one more time, fed him some dinner, and tucked him into bed.
Now we just had to wait another week for the followup with the neurosurgeon.
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