Friday, Part II: Pissing Off the Hickman Gods

Craig’s pissed someone off long ago.  Yes, indeedy. That’s the only explanation for why he continues to have so many problems with his Hickman.  It all started Friday when C and I were preparing to leave mom's room after spending most of the day at the hospital.  As he stood up, he noticed his chest was "leaking."  I lifted his shirt to find a bare chest, free of all things Hickman.  Rut-ro. I glanced down at the ground, and sure enough, his Hickman was resting quietly in a puddle of white liquid, still pumping along as if it were still nestled deep inside Craig.  C mumbled “how the hell did that happen?  I didn’t feel a thing.”  (Uhh, yeah, about that...I can tell ya how it happened, tiger.  It’s called playing double Dutch with your TPN line.  It’s a gamble on what actually did him in:  perhaps it was stepping on it on a daily basis, or shutting it in the door, or getting it stuck in the recliner.  Who knows??)  Whatever the case, that thing was pulled clean from his chest -- something the nurses have "never seen before."  Typical. 

Thankfully, one of mom’s nurses was in the room preparing her meds, and rallied the troops after noticing something was amiss.  After a quick call to Dr. Flaig, we decided it’d be best for Craig to go to the ER.  So, back to the ER we went.  Dad and I stayed with C, while Diane stayed with mom on the 11^th floor.  Then after an hour or so, we switched, and Diane left to get a few things from Craig’s apartment, while I stayed with C and dad went upstairs for some alone time with mom.  At around 8ish, C and I learned that he, too, would be admitted to the 11^th floor – just across the hall from mom.  I met Diane out in the hall and let her know the good news.  We both doubled over laughing and said "you've got to be kidding me!"  You just can’t write this …

Once back in the ER, one of C’s nurses, who had also helped mom two weeks ago with her sepsis, said she couldn’t believe the scenario that was unfolding for us -- two people admitted on the oncology ward, just rooms from each other.  She gave me a hug and at around 1 a.m., C and I checked into room 1126.  I shuffled across to grab my pajamas, and then returned to help C prepare for bed.  Early that morning, C and I awoke for rounds, and explained his situation to one of the residents who had also been following mom’s case.  I then shuffled across (in my pajamas) to mom’s room to take my shower.  I opened the door to see the nurse that had helped C with his Hickman helping mom.  Mom looked at me all fluffy haired and a little sleep deprived and began laughing.  Later that day, we saw Craig exiting mom’s room in his hospital gown and saline pump in tow.  Just a few weeks ago, we were bragging about how long it had been since Craig had been admitted.  I guess we jinxed him. 

Mom’s head doctor appeared visibly shocked when Diane mentioned that he’d be seeing our brother a little later in his rounds.  Some of the nurses that had been following Craig’s case came up to me to offer their hugs and support (which meant a lot).  Thankfully, Craig’s case was a “mechanical failure” and could be addressed with a simple procedure.  So, after almost 24 hours in the hospital, C finally received his 4^th Hickman in as many months.  I helped him put on his ‘street’ clothes, and then marched over to mom’s room to watch Indiana Jones.  I remember glancing at the white board near the nurse’s station during our trek to moms.  There they had written in black marker Lawler, C. and Lawler, M.  ... Incredible. -- J