Since Wednesday, Kevin has been to two hospitals and one Emergency Room.
But first, the trip to Johns Hopkins/Wilmer Eye Institute went very well but took all day. No, I didn’t bring a book. The neuro-opthomologist was impressed with Kevin’s progress in recovery and thinks his vision might well improve. That was great news.
Now, the bad news. Kevin was expecting to be released from the rehab clinic Thursday, however, they failed to communicate with him their impressions of his progress. Until Friday afternoon when the Nurse Practitioner explained that his heart was acting up seriously enough that Kevin needed to go to a hospital.
We then got into the adminutia of a do-loop where they wanted him to go to the hospital via ambulance but the insurance doesn’t pay for non-emergent transport. Making it an emergency would require transport to a hospital nearer to Baltimore, whereas Kevin’s cardiologist is at the hospital less than a mile away from his house. So, he decided to leave the facility, against medical advise, via Shelly’s car to Upper Chesapeake while I carried the things he wouldn’t need there.
We then spent the next 8 hours processing through the Emergency Room and into a room in the Cardiac ward. To be fair, they got him into the ER rapidly; the wait was for the tests that Upper Chesapeake performed to complete and validate his need for a room. As it was, I didn’t get to sleep until 4am Friday.
After 4.5 hours of sleep, I spent the day with Kevin. Naturally, he was bored and tired but seemed fine, medically. The reason the rehab place wanted him to go to any hospital was it would have the capability to better treat his heart condition and to recover him if he reacted badly to the treatments. In the ER, he was administered appropriate medication for his condition but he didn’t pop right up as if he was completely new; there’s still a long process remaining before he’s “better”. That evening, after many insurance gyrations, Kevin was finally released to home care.
This morning, Kevin says he slept very well (probably the best since his stroke), was able to take a good, hot shower (by himself), and was able to get dressed on his own. And he looks good, too. Medically.
Last night I told him, “Welcome home! Now the hard work begins.” Never a truer word was spoken.