So that happened

Tuesday, we split up the act.  Steve went to town in pursuit of an appointment with follow-up grocery shopping, and I stayed home to work.

. . .and I was working when I got a phone call from Steve, who was sitting on the floor in the Hannaford deli department, as a result of having slid down the front of the cold cut case, his ICD* firing twice on the way down.

John, Bernadette, and others of the Hannaford crew leapt into action, someone called an ambulance while John helpfully put the full shopping cart into the deli’s cooler to await retrieval when all was sorted out.

Fast forward about 45 minutes.  I arrive in the Emergency Room at Inland Hospital, where Steve is answering intake questions.  He looks fine, if a little sheepish.  We figure to wait for the results of several tests, and so to home.

In the meantime, the ER doctor calls the cardio folks in Bangor, Inland not having the means to interrogate the ICD to find out WTF actually happened.  The cardio doctor on-call says, Five years and this is the first time the ICD kicked?  Put him in an ambulance and bring him to Bangor. Now.

So!  Off Steve went in style and luxury, while I went to Hannaford, retrieved the basket from the cooler, and the other groceries that were already in Steve’s car, left a message for the night manager to alert him to the fact that the car would be in their lot overnight, drove carefully home, put the cold stuff away, informed the cats of Events, and made sure dishes were full, and the cat fountain, too, packed a bag, and headed for Bangor.

It is now dark.  Very dark, in fact, being upwards of ten o’clock at night.  I. . .let’s just say that driving in the dark is not my best trick ever.

Arrived at the hospital shortly after eleven o’clock, found Steve eating a late-night roast beef sandwich, looking tired but mostly fine.  I stayed the night in a recliner helpfully provided by the night nurse, and drove home early Wednesday morning.

Wednesday for Steve was tests of all sorts, including the interrogation of the ICD, wherein we learned that the ICD had fired twice at increasing jules.  Since nothing invasive was scheduled, it was decided that I would stay home, which I did, and Thursday morning the word came from the Hospitalist that I could fetch Steve home.

. . .which is where he is now.

His regular doctors need to see him within the next week — naturally no one is on today.  The biggest change that has come home from the hospital is that Steve is banned from driving for at least six months.

This. . .will make life Very Interesting, and may affect upcoming convention schedules.  More on this as we sort things out.

Today, I need to go into town to complete the errands that were left hanging on Tuesday (including finishing the grocery shopping), and meeting the kind friends who will be helping move Steve’s car out of the Hannaford lot and out to our driveway.

To Sum Up:  Steve had a heart event; the ICD operated as it should; he is home and receiving quality feline care.

. . .I think that catches us all up.  Everybody — be well.

_________
*Implantable Cardioverter Defibillator

20 thoughts on “So that happened”

  1. Yikes! Glad to hear that Steve is back home, the groceries weren’t all lost in the shuffle, you made it safely to the hospital in the deep dark (not fond of night driving myself anymore), and all the “good news” stuff. But nobody needs that kind of scare and disturbance.

  2. What a scare for both of you! I am so thankful for modern medicine. Doctors have the ability to do some amazing things.
    Here’s to a easy, fast recovery. Be well yourself. *hug*

  3. Oh my. I had to Google ICD to figure out what had happened; I’m so glad to hear that at least for the time being Steve is home and doing well. And I too am less comfortable driving at night than I used to be, especially on unfamiliar roads. Let’s hope Steve’s docs have good news for you next week.

  4. So glad that ICD worked as it needed to. A change of medication may be required, but he’s home, so that’s the best possible outcome.
    As to the driving restrictions, perhaps some fans who are local would step up and volunteer to get you to various events. Just a thought.

  5. Very glad to hear that this has ended with Steve safely home and you with neighbor support. Sympathies on the night driving–dearly hope you can avoid a lot of that.

    May the doctors bring you good news soon.

  6. Hey, at five years y’all should be listening for the “low-battery” alarm signal. It sounds like a European ambulance siren, the two-tone thing, and will fire when the voltage drops down to a dangerously low level. I’m now about halfway through the life of my third such device. The first two ran down a bit past the five-year marks.

    Replacement is similar to the original installation, but simpler. The electrodes into the heart muscle are already in place so only the box itself has to be changed out. For me, it was “outpatient” but I did have to remain overnight since the procedures were scheduled late in the day. Given the distances involved for y’all I would expect a one-day stay in any event; my heart hospital is only three miles from my house!

    The great news is that everything worked exactly as designed! We can be thankful for the folks at Medtronics and elsewhere who make these wonderful gadgets that can handle SCA (Sudden Cardiac Arrest) events that, untreated, are almost always fatal!

  7. Definitely not the kind of excitement one needs at Thanksgiving. Or anytime. Glad to hear he’s home and under the watchful eyes of your fur-mountains. Continued good thoughts and healing energies headed thataway.

  8. Pepe looked a little startled when I relayed this news to him. (My voice woke him up; he had been sleeping.) I am sending best wishes on behalf of us all.

  9. I’m assuming Steve has been following all medical advice about proper care of ticker and self, so unless the medical folks say otherwise, I’d chalk it up to the battery. Glad to know he is under proper feline care at home, instead of catless in some hospital. Be well!

  10. Sorry for all the alarums and excursions. Glad Steve is home and I hope that when he does see his regular doctors they have reassuring things to say. Stay well, all of you.

  11. Wow. Truly, we live in a time of miracles, when what might have been a sudden unexpected death or disaster is reduced to a mere horrible fright and inconvenience. I’d not known of ICD tech until now. I am very glad it exists, doubly grateful it was there to perform as needed, and did so. I’m glad Steve is home, and I hope all continues well.

  12. Hope all is well and you can get some help with the driving. It puts you in a hard spot to have to do all the errands when you are use to sharing the load.

    Will be praying everything is okay.

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