But Wait! There's More!

When we last met, the medical drama with my sister was planned surgery for stents on Friday. A simple procedure.

Routine, even.

In normal cases (i.e. not the first time for a person), it's basically outpatient. Fifteen, twenty minutes to slip in the stents, then once you're awake, home you go.

But we don't do things the normal way here in Sleepy-land.

Around 3:30, I get a call from the hospital number. I think to myself, well good, they're finished and calling to let me know.

But hahahahaaa no. The urologist on the other end says things are not going well and I'll excuse her as these aren't the types of calls she usually makes and it would probably be good if me and Dad came up there.

Turns out, they got the left stent in, everything was looking well placed and she was getting ready to remove the insertion apparatus to prep for the right side when my sister started gushing blood.

Like two transfusions amounts.

I drop everything, hop in the car, and zip down to grab Dad and head to the hospital. We check in in the waiting area.

Over the next four hours, they call us four times with updates along the lines of:

They've rushed her off to an emergency angiogram to try and find the site of bleeding and stop it in some way and...they can't find anything?

But it's still gushing, although maybe slightly less?

Seems to be slowing, but not stopping. So they're going to put her in ICU and monitor. Well no, not ICU, intermediate care as the bleeding has slowed enough that they think they can manage it just by putting in more than is coming out.

We finally get to see her in a room around 9. Pale doesn't begin to describe (duh) but she's alive and sort of kicking?

I take Dad home, then go back so I can spend the night there with her.

If you've ever wondered about sleeping in a hospital, the short answer is you just don't. But I did manage to doze a little.

Saturday, all the doctors come and go with various updates. The bleeding seems to be enough of a slowing trickle that maybe whatever it was that was gushing has healed itself. Of course, she's still vomiting everything she ingests. Literally can't keep down clear liquids. All meds have to be IV etc.

So they've called in GI and maybe there's gastroparesis in play as well? When she's more stable, let's do some tests for that.

Long story short (too late!), she's still there, but now moved to a "regular" room. The plan is an endoscopy today. Maybe tomorrow, depending on schedule. Which means nothing by mouth until it's over, but hey, it's not like she can keep anything down anyway. We'll worry about malnutrition later, I guess.

And there's the issue of still needing the stent in her right kidney because, of course, they're still swollen and backflowing and just generally failing.

The thing of it is, people keep asking me how I am. And I understand the intent, but honestly? I don't know. I don't know how I am. I'm putting one foot in front of the other and trying to handle whatever ball is tossed my way at the time, hoping I catch the fragile ones and drop the rubber ones. There's a tiny part of my brain devoted to hysterical, unhinged laughing because it just can't cope. But so far, at least, that's all on the inside, and I can reassure my kids that their aunt is fine. I can support my Dad who is cracking in ways he didn't even when we lost Mom. And I'm grateful for a hubby who is content to have me just lean on him and not talk.

Because, all evidence to the contrary, deep down I have no words.