Just a funny little story.
At the first follow-up appointment, I got to see the x-rays after the operation. They showed what looked like large head bolts in my hip. I was surprised how large they were. I thought maybe the x-rays showed a magnified view of my hip.
I told the doctor, the screws look like they are 1/4-inch screws. Without any indication of sarcasm, he said, "No, they are 6.5 millimeter screws."
Doh! Do the math!
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Sunday, October 17, 2004
In The Hospital
They wheeled me into pre-op at 7:00 pm as promised. Surgery commenced around 7:30, and at 9:30 I awoke in post-op with Mary at my side. This was on Tuesday, October 12. I was in the hospital until Friday the 15th.
The first night I only wanted to sleep. The nurses woke me up every hour to check vital signs. This didn't bother me. With all the meds in me, I didn't care about anything.
I mostly slept between around 11:00 pm and 3:00 am the whole time I was in the hospital. I was never really comfortable enough to sleep the night through, even with all the drugs. I did sleep a lot during the day, though, since staying awake was way too boring. I hate TV, and I didn't have enough energy to read a book.
Mary visited me every day. Some days I had to chase her away so she could get her own things done. Pastor Eddie Munoz from Calvary Chapel visited me one day. My Aunt Roe visited me one day. And Kathleen and David Brandt also visited me, and they helped Mary with a lot of things at home.
The first morning (Wednesday) they tried to get me to urinate. I couldn't do this lying on my back or lying on my side. The nurses even tried to help me, letting me stand up by the side of the bed and holding me steady. But nothing. I'm not really sure whether this was the result of medications or just a "shy bladder." But Mary says the medications do shut everything down. Anyway, eventually they did put in a catheter because they were worried about the bladder becoming distended. This was an experience, but not as gruesome as I anticipated. The worse part was having it in for a day and feeling it "tugging" all the time. Eventually they pinned the tube down to the bed to keep it from tugging. This helped a lot. For the most part, it just gave the sensation that I was peeing constantly.
That very first day they sent an occupational therapist (OT) in the morning and a physical therapist (PT) in the afternoon. The OT helped me with things like putting on socks and pants. This is not so easy when you can't move your leg, and when you can't place weight on one leg. The PT showed me how to get in and out of bed without placing weight on the foot, and she showed me how to use the walker. It felt good to get out of bed and "walk" around. But it was relatively painless because of the medications.
They gave me some soap and water, and Mary washed me up a bit.
I was quite heavily medicated the whole first day of recovery. Before surgery, they had given me two doses of morphine, plus a spinal. But the spinal wasn't effective, so they administered a general afterward. So the whole next day, I had all the benefits and drawbacks of both. The spinal lasts 24 hours, so until about 7:30 on Wednesday night I felt no pain, which was a great benefit. But when they administer the general, they must shut down the digestive systems. So that whole first day I could not eat or drink anything. My stomach just did not work, and everything came back up. Fortunately I was getting some fluids through the IV.
After 7:30 on Wednesday night, as the spinal wore off, I did start feeling some pain. They started giving me Vicodin then. It was supposed to last only 3-4 hours but I actually took just one per day, usually in the morning.
I definitely did not get as much attention from the nurses during the day as at night. At night they woke me up every hour, but during the day they did not ever respond when I pressed the button. Fortunately for all of us, I was not very demanding. But there were times when Mary sat with me during the day, and even she could not find a nurse anywhere. My roommate, an elderly gentleman, got lots of attention. And apparently we were right next door to a room where they tried to restrain drug addicts and other malcontents. I only faintly heard a row one time.
On Thursday I started eating again, and passed a little gas. I took these as good signs that digestive systems were back online, and I asked them to remove the catheter. It took a while to get approval for this, but eventually they relented. It was a real milestone when they let me use the walker to access the restroom, and I was able to urinate on my own. Yes!
We hoped that I would be released on Thursday, but an internist became concerned that my blood oxygen count was low. I tend to be asthmatic and short of breath anyway, but they were particularly concerned that my BOX level dropped after using the walker for PT. The physical therapists also noticed that I was not nearly as steady on the walker the second day, and I had some nausea in the middle of one of my walks. We think it was natural that I was not in as good form the second day, since all the anesthetic had worn off by then. Anyway, the doctor ordered up a bunch of lung scans that didn't happen until late Thursday night, so release before Friday became impossible.
Things went well on Friday. With some breathing exercises, my BOX levels became acceptable. I did well on the walker. I had my first bowel movement since the surgery. I got up and washed myself in the bathroom. I even sat up in a chair to eat lunch. But the doctor did not make rounds until after dinner, so we twiddled our thumbs all day. Eventually they released me around 9:30 pm and we got home right around 10:00 pm. It had been just about 72 hours since I got out of surgery.
In all, I think the doctors and nurses took good care of me, and in particular the internist took extra steps to diagnose a potentially dangerous condition. Mary was also very helpful. She tried to be there every time I talked to a doctor or physical therapist, so she could remind me later of things I might forget.
The first night I only wanted to sleep. The nurses woke me up every hour to check vital signs. This didn't bother me. With all the meds in me, I didn't care about anything.
I mostly slept between around 11:00 pm and 3:00 am the whole time I was in the hospital. I was never really comfortable enough to sleep the night through, even with all the drugs. I did sleep a lot during the day, though, since staying awake was way too boring. I hate TV, and I didn't have enough energy to read a book.
Mary visited me every day. Some days I had to chase her away so she could get her own things done. Pastor Eddie Munoz from Calvary Chapel visited me one day. My Aunt Roe visited me one day. And Kathleen and David Brandt also visited me, and they helped Mary with a lot of things at home.
The first morning (Wednesday) they tried to get me to urinate. I couldn't do this lying on my back or lying on my side. The nurses even tried to help me, letting me stand up by the side of the bed and holding me steady. But nothing. I'm not really sure whether this was the result of medications or just a "shy bladder." But Mary says the medications do shut everything down. Anyway, eventually they did put in a catheter because they were worried about the bladder becoming distended. This was an experience, but not as gruesome as I anticipated. The worse part was having it in for a day and feeling it "tugging" all the time. Eventually they pinned the tube down to the bed to keep it from tugging. This helped a lot. For the most part, it just gave the sensation that I was peeing constantly.
That very first day they sent an occupational therapist (OT) in the morning and a physical therapist (PT) in the afternoon. The OT helped me with things like putting on socks and pants. This is not so easy when you can't move your leg, and when you can't place weight on one leg. The PT showed me how to get in and out of bed without placing weight on the foot, and she showed me how to use the walker. It felt good to get out of bed and "walk" around. But it was relatively painless because of the medications.
They gave me some soap and water, and Mary washed me up a bit.
I was quite heavily medicated the whole first day of recovery. Before surgery, they had given me two doses of morphine, plus a spinal. But the spinal wasn't effective, so they administered a general afterward. So the whole next day, I had all the benefits and drawbacks of both. The spinal lasts 24 hours, so until about 7:30 on Wednesday night I felt no pain, which was a great benefit. But when they administer the general, they must shut down the digestive systems. So that whole first day I could not eat or drink anything. My stomach just did not work, and everything came back up. Fortunately I was getting some fluids through the IV.
After 7:30 on Wednesday night, as the spinal wore off, I did start feeling some pain. They started giving me Vicodin then. It was supposed to last only 3-4 hours but I actually took just one per day, usually in the morning.
I definitely did not get as much attention from the nurses during the day as at night. At night they woke me up every hour, but during the day they did not ever respond when I pressed the button. Fortunately for all of us, I was not very demanding. But there were times when Mary sat with me during the day, and even she could not find a nurse anywhere. My roommate, an elderly gentleman, got lots of attention. And apparently we were right next door to a room where they tried to restrain drug addicts and other malcontents. I only faintly heard a row one time.
On Thursday I started eating again, and passed a little gas. I took these as good signs that digestive systems were back online, and I asked them to remove the catheter. It took a while to get approval for this, but eventually they relented. It was a real milestone when they let me use the walker to access the restroom, and I was able to urinate on my own. Yes!
We hoped that I would be released on Thursday, but an internist became concerned that my blood oxygen count was low. I tend to be asthmatic and short of breath anyway, but they were particularly concerned that my BOX level dropped after using the walker for PT. The physical therapists also noticed that I was not nearly as steady on the walker the second day, and I had some nausea in the middle of one of my walks. We think it was natural that I was not in as good form the second day, since all the anesthetic had worn off by then. Anyway, the doctor ordered up a bunch of lung scans that didn't happen until late Thursday night, so release before Friday became impossible.
Things went well on Friday. With some breathing exercises, my BOX levels became acceptable. I did well on the walker. I had my first bowel movement since the surgery. I got up and washed myself in the bathroom. I even sat up in a chair to eat lunch. But the doctor did not make rounds until after dinner, so we twiddled our thumbs all day. Eventually they released me around 9:30 pm and we got home right around 10:00 pm. It had been just about 72 hours since I got out of surgery.
In all, I think the doctors and nurses took good care of me, and in particular the internist took extra steps to diagnose a potentially dangerous condition. Mary was also very helpful. She tried to be there every time I talked to a doctor or physical therapist, so she could remind me later of things I might forget.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Emergency Room
Tuesday October 12, 2004
After I fell, I first called Mary. But when I realized I could not get up, and therefore I would not be able to get into Mary's car, then I called 911. I knew they could get me into an ambulance for transport.
The paramedics were very friendly. They were going to lock my bicycle to a traffic sign and leave the key with the store owner on the corner, who said he would keep it for me. But Mary showed up shortly after the paramedics. They took the bicycle apart so she could put it in the trunk of her new little Honda, and they used my bungee cord to close the trunk lid as much as possible. Mary couldn't believe how helpful they were.
The paramedics poked at my leg and really did say that it did not appear to be broken ... if it were really broken, just their touching the leg would cause me a lot of pain. However, they advised that I really should visit a hospital and be checked out; if I left on my own, they couldn't be held responsible for me. I knew this was a legal necessity on their part. But of course I had called them because I wanted to be taken to a hospital!
So off we went. They lifted me onto a gurney. Being lifted onto the gurney, and having the gurney lifted into the ambulance, felt like a roller coaster ride. I had to trust them ... I had no choice. I could not move my leg at all. They gave me my little black bag, my water bottle and my helmet. I don't know why they didn't give my helmet to Mary to keep with the bicycle.
My first choice was Alexian Brothers hospital, which is nearest our house, and I thought Mary got very good care there several years ago when she had hernia surgery. But Mary suggested San Jose Hospital downtown instead, for insurance reasons. Because her trunk lid was not closed fully, she brought my bicycle home while I got a ride to the hospital.
At the hospital, I had to be transferred from one gurney to another. The ER's gurney was next to a wall and there was no room for paramedics to lift me from one to another. I volunteered to shove myself from one gurney to the other using my good leg, while one of them held my bad leg to keep it out of the way. In a few minutes, we repeated this same procedure as I shoved myself from the new gurney onto the x-ray table. In retrospect, this may not have been wise, as the x-rays showed a fracture. It's possible I made things worse, but not likely much worse.
After x-rays I was returned to the ER to wait for a surgeon to free up. Just before I had arrived, a child with a broken wrist had also been admitted. The orthopedic surgeon on duty specialized in wrists, and a long surgery was anticipated for the child. Now it was about 5:00 pm and Mary arrived. She would not let me drink from my water bottle. I argued with her. When I asked the nurse, she said no, if I were to have surgery tonight they would want my stomach empty. There were lots of questions about when I had last eaten. They were still uncertain whether I would have surgery tonight or tomorrow.
At 6:40 pm, I was informed that the child's wrist surgery had gone quickly, and I was scheduled for 7:00 pm surgery ... in just a few minutes. Mary and I prayed, and I had no misgivings about the surgery at all. Mary especially prayed that the doctors would have wisdom in case special decisions had to be made during the surgery. She has better foresight about those things than I do.
They wheeled me into pre-op at precisely 7:00 pm. They gave me a shot of morphine that never had any effect. They kept asking me which hip. I asked them whether they would keep asking me which hip until the morphine made me forget! The surgeon informed me of all kinds of minor risks with the surgery. As if I might change my mind. Doh! Again, a legal necessity, but at least I knew what kinds of things we would be looking for during follow-up care.
He would be putting four titanium screws "about this long" (he held his hands about eight inches apart) into the bone to hold it together. Yow!
They brought me into the operating room at 7:20 pm. I don't remember how I got onto the operating table. (I hope they lifted me.) I asked for more morphine since the first shot hadn't made me woozy as they'd suggested. After the second shot the lights on the ceiling started moving. I asked if that were the intended effect ... just trying to keep them informed. They had to roll me onto my "bad" side in order to administer the spinal injection. The medicine flows "down" due to gravity and numbs the side that will have surgery, but not the other side. Then they started to strap me into a "frog" position with my legs separated. But the spinal injection was insufficient so they had to administer a general. They had wanted to avoid this because it had not been fully eight hours since I had eaten.
Having a mask put over my face is the last thing I remember. When I awoke at 9:30 pm, Mary was with me in post-op. I started talking and looking around. Apparently the nurse was trying to tell me not to move my head, but I didn't hear her or didn't understand. Throwing up was definitely the worst part of the whole experience. Mary kept saying, "Stop saying you're sorry about throwing up! You can't help it! It's OK." I guess I'm just too polite.
After I fell, I first called Mary. But when I realized I could not get up, and therefore I would not be able to get into Mary's car, then I called 911. I knew they could get me into an ambulance for transport.
The paramedics were very friendly. They were going to lock my bicycle to a traffic sign and leave the key with the store owner on the corner, who said he would keep it for me. But Mary showed up shortly after the paramedics. They took the bicycle apart so she could put it in the trunk of her new little Honda, and they used my bungee cord to close the trunk lid as much as possible. Mary couldn't believe how helpful they were.
The paramedics poked at my leg and really did say that it did not appear to be broken ... if it were really broken, just their touching the leg would cause me a lot of pain. However, they advised that I really should visit a hospital and be checked out; if I left on my own, they couldn't be held responsible for me. I knew this was a legal necessity on their part. But of course I had called them because I wanted to be taken to a hospital!
So off we went. They lifted me onto a gurney. Being lifted onto the gurney, and having the gurney lifted into the ambulance, felt like a roller coaster ride. I had to trust them ... I had no choice. I could not move my leg at all. They gave me my little black bag, my water bottle and my helmet. I don't know why they didn't give my helmet to Mary to keep with the bicycle.
My first choice was Alexian Brothers hospital, which is nearest our house, and I thought Mary got very good care there several years ago when she had hernia surgery. But Mary suggested San Jose Hospital downtown instead, for insurance reasons. Because her trunk lid was not closed fully, she brought my bicycle home while I got a ride to the hospital.
At the hospital, I had to be transferred from one gurney to another. The ER's gurney was next to a wall and there was no room for paramedics to lift me from one to another. I volunteered to shove myself from one gurney to the other using my good leg, while one of them held my bad leg to keep it out of the way. In a few minutes, we repeated this same procedure as I shoved myself from the new gurney onto the x-ray table. In retrospect, this may not have been wise, as the x-rays showed a fracture. It's possible I made things worse, but not likely much worse.
After x-rays I was returned to the ER to wait for a surgeon to free up. Just before I had arrived, a child with a broken wrist had also been admitted. The orthopedic surgeon on duty specialized in wrists, and a long surgery was anticipated for the child. Now it was about 5:00 pm and Mary arrived. She would not let me drink from my water bottle. I argued with her. When I asked the nurse, she said no, if I were to have surgery tonight they would want my stomach empty. There were lots of questions about when I had last eaten. They were still uncertain whether I would have surgery tonight or tomorrow.
At 6:40 pm, I was informed that the child's wrist surgery had gone quickly, and I was scheduled for 7:00 pm surgery ... in just a few minutes. Mary and I prayed, and I had no misgivings about the surgery at all. Mary especially prayed that the doctors would have wisdom in case special decisions had to be made during the surgery. She has better foresight about those things than I do.
They wheeled me into pre-op at precisely 7:00 pm. They gave me a shot of morphine that never had any effect. They kept asking me which hip. I asked them whether they would keep asking me which hip until the morphine made me forget! The surgeon informed me of all kinds of minor risks with the surgery. As if I might change my mind. Doh! Again, a legal necessity, but at least I knew what kinds of things we would be looking for during follow-up care.
He would be putting four titanium screws "about this long" (he held his hands about eight inches apart) into the bone to hold it together. Yow!
They brought me into the operating room at 7:20 pm. I don't remember how I got onto the operating table. (I hope they lifted me.) I asked for more morphine since the first shot hadn't made me woozy as they'd suggested. After the second shot the lights on the ceiling started moving. I asked if that were the intended effect ... just trying to keep them informed. They had to roll me onto my "bad" side in order to administer the spinal injection. The medicine flows "down" due to gravity and numbs the side that will have surgery, but not the other side. Then they started to strap me into a "frog" position with my legs separated. But the spinal injection was insufficient so they had to administer a general. They had wanted to avoid this because it had not been fully eight hours since I had eaten.
Having a mask put over my face is the last thing I remember. When I awoke at 9:30 pm, Mary was with me in post-op. I started talking and looking around. Apparently the nurse was trying to tell me not to move my head, but I didn't hear her or didn't understand. Throwing up was definitely the worst part of the whole experience. Mary kept saying, "Stop saying you're sorry about throwing up! You can't help it! It's OK." I guess I'm just too polite.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Hometown Boy Falls From Bicycle, Scores Guest Appearance On "ER"
San Jose - Tuesday October 12, 2004
Milpitas resident Mark "Mixed-Up" Brautigam fell from his bicycle Tuesday near the DMV office in Willow Glen, and was whisked by paramedics to San Jose Hospital for treatment of a hip fracture.
After falling, the intrepid cyclist first called his wife Mary, then called 911, and was able to make one last quick call to Calvary Chapel San Jose before his cell phone battery gave up the ghost. At CCSJ, Mr. Brautigam contacted Kathy Acomb, who immediately organized a prayer watch for the weekly Tuesday evening men's and women's bible studies.
After hauling himself to the sidewalk, but unable to stand, Mr. Brautigam ventured back into the street to retrieve his bicycle, which was hindering traffic. The blocked SUV was driven by a soccer mom, who didn't bother to call 911 because she was late for practice.
Regarding the injured cyclist, Willow Glen merchant E. B. White said, "He's a doofus." Local resident Charles Parham said "He's always been a klutz." Pastor Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel
was reported to have said, "These older guys just have to realize they can't do these tricks forever. At some point they have to make way for the younger folks to take over." Elderly resident Joseph Smith said, "These crazy guys just barrel through here like a bat out of a deep place, knocking everyone else over. He deserved what he got."
The 48 year old Mr. Brautigam, who was going over 2 MPH at the time of the fall, said, "Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Paramedics said the cyclist's injuries looked like bruises but no broken bones. But they took Mr. Brautigam to the San Jose Hospital emergency room, where x-rays revealed a fracture in the neck of
the femur. Surgery commenced at 7:00 pm. After being administered a spinal injection, Mr. Brautigam's next words were reportedly "Ow! Ow! Ow!" as surgeons began to slice into the hip muscle. In response to this unforeseen circumstance and the patient's constant humorous chatting with the operating room staff, the doctors administered general anesthesia in order to shut him up.
The patient emerged two and a half hours later with enough titanium in his hip to trip every airport security system between here and Toronto.
Recent word from Hollywood is that Mr. Brautigam's nude scenes on "ER" were left on the cutting room floor. Fortunate indeed.
This response from Paul Gaboury:
Hey Mark that sounds like a horrible and painful accident. When I was 65 my dad advised me i was too old to do my lifestyle and slow down. Not knowing how old you are am unable offer clinical advice. At 75 I retired from hockey when had hip replacement but that was a piece of cake and no pain whatsoever. At 81 quit skiing as couldn't balance--for instance today at 89 walked into a door opening, scraped off a typical elbow scab and bled all over looking for bandaids. Have quit my golf club and square dancing but Dale and I enthused over ballroom dancing--class lessons twice a week, and we go to black tie supper dances once a month.
So think about it. Maybe you should sell your bike on ebay and concentrate on your dancing. Somewhat safer.
Say hi to Mary for us.
Paul
Mark says:
Paul, thanks for the best chuckle I've had all week!
Milpitas resident Mark "Mixed-Up" Brautigam fell from his bicycle Tuesday near the DMV office in Willow Glen, and was whisked by paramedics to San Jose Hospital for treatment of a hip fracture.
After falling, the intrepid cyclist first called his wife Mary, then called 911, and was able to make one last quick call to Calvary Chapel San Jose before his cell phone battery gave up the ghost. At CCSJ, Mr. Brautigam contacted Kathy Acomb, who immediately organized a prayer watch for the weekly Tuesday evening men's and women's bible studies.
After hauling himself to the sidewalk, but unable to stand, Mr. Brautigam ventured back into the street to retrieve his bicycle, which was hindering traffic. The blocked SUV was driven by a soccer mom, who didn't bother to call 911 because she was late for practice.
Regarding the injured cyclist, Willow Glen merchant E. B. White said, "He's a doofus." Local resident Charles Parham said "He's always been a klutz." Pastor Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel
was reported to have said, "These older guys just have to realize they can't do these tricks forever. At some point they have to make way for the younger folks to take over." Elderly resident Joseph Smith said, "These crazy guys just barrel through here like a bat out of a deep place, knocking everyone else over. He deserved what he got."
The 48 year old Mr. Brautigam, who was going over 2 MPH at the time of the fall, said, "Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Paramedics said the cyclist's injuries looked like bruises but no broken bones. But they took Mr. Brautigam to the San Jose Hospital emergency room, where x-rays revealed a fracture in the neck of
the femur. Surgery commenced at 7:00 pm. After being administered a spinal injection, Mr. Brautigam's next words were reportedly "Ow! Ow! Ow!" as surgeons began to slice into the hip muscle. In response to this unforeseen circumstance and the patient's constant humorous chatting with the operating room staff, the doctors administered general anesthesia in order to shut him up.
The patient emerged two and a half hours later with enough titanium in his hip to trip every airport security system between here and Toronto.
Recent word from Hollywood is that Mr. Brautigam's nude scenes on "ER" were left on the cutting room floor. Fortunate indeed.
This response from Paul Gaboury:
Hey Mark that sounds like a horrible and painful accident. When I was 65 my dad advised me i was too old to do my lifestyle and slow down. Not knowing how old you are am unable offer clinical advice. At 75 I retired from hockey when had hip replacement but that was a piece of cake and no pain whatsoever. At 81 quit skiing as couldn't balance--for instance today at 89 walked into a door opening, scraped off a typical elbow scab and bled all over looking for bandaids. Have quit my golf club and square dancing but Dale and I enthused over ballroom dancing--class lessons twice a week, and we go to black tie supper dances once a month.
So think about it. Maybe you should sell your bike on ebay and concentrate on your dancing. Somewhat safer.
Say hi to Mary for us.
Paul
Mark says:
Paul, thanks for the best chuckle I've had all week!
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