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This article made my trach scar tingle, Harry Potter style. It very accurately captures what it& #39;s like to survive a stay in an ICU on a mechanical ventilator. (warning: not the happiest thread) 1/ https://www.washingtonpost.com/health/2020/04/03/coronavirus-survivors-recovery/?utm_campaign=wp_to_your_health&utm_medium=email&utm_source=newsletter&wpisrc=nl_tyh&wpmk=1">https://www.washingtonpost.com/health/20...
I don& #39;t talk much about the month I spent in the 24-bed Trauma and Life Support Center at UW Hospital with H1N1. I& #39;m deeply worried we aren& #39;t prepared and that it won& #39;t be possible to provide #COVIDー19 patients with the incredible level of care I received. 2/
In addition to a mechanical ventilator, I had what my family called the "Spaceship Bed" to rotate fluid from my lungs. And plenty of medicine (at increasing doses as I developed tolerance to keep my unconscious). Do we have enough of these supplies for #Covid19 patients? 3/
My kidneys started failing. I was on dialysis, sometimes continually for 24 hours. Do we have enough machines to support failing organs? I& #39;m happy to report my kidneys recovered, but I was on dialysis for weeks after discharge. Will we have enough outpatient slots? 4/
When you wake up from being on a ventilator, they give you anti-psychotic drugs to fight ICU psychosis. It& #39;s real. I had the worst, vivid nightmares of my life, which I still remember 10 years later. You can& #39;t talk when you wake up b/c of the trach tube and you can& #39;t write. 5/
Your hands shake too much from weakness to write simple notes. So you have no idea what& #39;s real and what& #39;s a hallucination or nightmare. Luckily, I had lots of happy visitors who were happy to see me out of the coma. It helped. #COVIDー19 patients will lack that support. 6/
I was so thirsty. So incredibly thirsty. I made lists of liquids I wanted when discharged. For some reason, "watermelon juice" topped the list. You can& #39;t eat or drink until they prove you can still swallow. 7/
The nurses gave me moist sponges to wet my mouth. Once I could communicate, I begged for fistfuls of sponges and secretly sucked the water out of them. 8/
You lose an incredible amount of strength. I could have dashed off a half-marathon before my ICU stay. When I first got out of bed, it took two nurses, a tank of oxygen, and a rest stop to help me walk 100 feet. I felt like Rocky the first time I climbed one flight of stairs. 9/
I feel slightly ashamed to say that I felt so weak, I asked for my catheters to be put back in because it was so hard to get out of bed to use the bathroom. I lost 30 pounds in 30 days. 10/
My prognosis went from "possible death" to "may never work again" to "may need a nursing home to learn to walk" to "fully recovered." But I had to work like crazy to get there. I started by crawling across the floor with my feet on glides. I could barely make it across once. 11/
Even six or nine months later, when I was back in the office, serving as Secretary of Commerce, I would find myself subtly leaning on walls when I took plant tours or holding onto chairs or tables to stand for more than 20 minutes. Recovery is a long road. 12/
The PTSD symptoms are real. My first real outing after discharge was to see the movie Avatar. I had to rest on the way to my seat, but sitting was fine. My palms sweated and my heart raced watching the entire thing. I thought it was just the movie. 13/
The next night, I watched a comedy from my couch. Same totally irrational, over-the-top anxiety. I realized I was over-reacting to the smallest of threats, even ones I knew were fictional. Luckily, these PTSD symptoms have gone away (though @erincelello would beg to differ) 14/
