Out of breath

Yesterday, I had a bit of concern about the timing the move home: was I really fit enough; were the rest of the family ready for me in the absence of my parents? The appeal of my better supported and motorised bed won out against the expert (but often very slow medical expertise.)

An ambulance arrived midday, but when they saw the state of me (unable to bend and short of breadth despite wearing an oxygen mask), they decided it was a 4-person job. They had got away with a 2-person delivery because it was an emergency. I had to wait until 2 teams became available simultaneously. I was lucky and this took just over an hour.

After a lot of debate a strategy for getting me from ambulance to home was agreed. So I took a draft of pain killer and the staff slid me from bed to stretcher. I found I physically could not breathe for this transfer, so I had to hold my breath for probably less than 2 secs. In my weakened state, even with oxygen, I found myself gasping for air. Each breath seemed inadequate to replenish my breath. So I felt certain I would asphyxiate, caused by lack of breath capacity and my lungs giving out.

The team were very solicitous, trying out various stretcher positions, while I became increasingly convinced I would die even if returned to my bed. The doctor was called, nurses wandered in and out making posture suggestions, blood pressure was measured. I snatched answers to questions with breadth I thought I could not spare. The only medical action was to give me a slightly bigger oxygen mask.

I signaled the obvious, that I had given up on the move. So I was transferred back, with me expecting the move could be my last. I made it still gasping, but convinced my lung muscles couldn't last. After a while I began to think I might make It and began to stop trying to take the largest breath possible with each breath. So gasped, but more calmly. this is the position my parents found me, having been rung by my wife. I slowly, very very slowly, began to talk between breathes and conditions slowly returned to normal. My breathes remain shallow.


Late last night, I knew I had problems with my catheter. While it had passed some water, it was becoming increasingly painful to drink more. My bladder was under pressure and couldn't relieve it. I kept being assured I would be the next case, but having taken some pain-killer, it was clear that they hoped it would keep me quiet.
Having complained again about the excruciating pain, I finally got attention and a new catheter. Urine flooded out my bladder, easing pressure on my stomach, including my lungs. Suddenly my breathe capacity increased!

With my catheter fixed could probably have made it home with little problem!

Do I go home now? I don't know what the medics would say to this suggestion. Logically, I think I should stay in. It is risky, even if a large part is due to my over-reaction. I hope that my breathe will improve due to anti-water retention tablets and lowered infection. So I am resigning myself to a boring waiting game.