This wasn't Dallas Presbyterian Hospital, and I'm no shavetail when it comes to them. I've been be-bopping in and out of medical centers for 20 years for one thing or another. The past few times it's been for re-hab, and volunteer work, but then there are VEEG's (Video Electro Encepehalogram). That's what I had done to me this week. I'm no stranger to them either, having completd at least half-dozen of them. As the seizure meds my doctor hadn't made a great difference in them, the neurologist wanted an up-close and personal view for himself. When I came down here from Dallas, all he did was shove medicines at me, but this time, he sprang into action. All of this started out Tuesday, 6:15 in the cock-a-doodle. I got my stuff together and was ready to go on a seriously, muggy morning. We reached the hospital in downtown Houston an hour later, and got settled into the room. It was smaller than the others I'd been in, but it got the job done. M411, downtown Hospital Row. Methodist, this time, not Presbyterian. Hospital regs say that if you're in for an EEG, you gotta have a button down shirt. I hate button-down shirts with a passion, but in my closet there is at least a tropical jackcket I was able to wear. Something else you have to go without: blankets at night. Break out the long cargo pants,and just in time. The AC guys had finally fixed the air-conditioning in my room. My only savior was the box fan that was behind the chair. And who doesn't believe in miracles? Having waited an hour, a nurse finally pops in and says she's ready to do the leads on my head. "That's fine," I think, but when she came back, she was toting some gadgets I'd never seen before, and certainly not at Dallas Presby. Anyway, the nurse was a talkative young lady, and it wasn't long before we were swapping stories. there was a total of 28 leads on my head, subtracting two on my chest, and it took about an hour to do. First, the nurse measures the diameter and circumference of the head, and sets the 26 intersections at where they need to cross on muy la cabsa. Then attaching the actual leads is a science all to itself, but the glue smelled awful, but when she had it in just the position, that nurse would turn her machine on, and dry them to my skull. And did she ever push down hard on those that misbehaved! Then she had to get all the leads straigtened out over the video camera- kinda like an airplane checkoff list. Last but not least,is the invention of the man-purse. That's where guys have to drag this box of leads, attached to their heads around wherever you go. It makes you really think about your actions as you trip over the assorted cables day after day. I believe that the term was thought up by my nurse that got me hooked up to those buggers, and my mom seemed to like it too. By the by, my tv was Dish, and the menu was good as the Olive Garden++. The only thing that stunk about it was the IV. No, I did'nt have one put in me, but just the port which I got used to over time. I have a very bony hand, and after she failed drilling for blood at the bottom of my arm, that's where she had to go. After this commotion, I ordered lunch, and began to relax; reading, listening to peaceful music, and watching conservative news tv. We watched all of our favorite prime-time tv shows, and went to bed, but then it hit me: "How am I going to wear the CPAP mask over my head? We paged the nurse, and she helped us with it. To add to the perfect trifecta, I had brought my trusty Iriver, and set it up to play. I think would someone have looked over into the bed, and let's just say he might have gotten more than he bargained for.
I belive it was a single bed, instead of a queen mattress that I had to get re-used to again and that required several rotations to maneuver in the bed. So it was not a good night for me. I finaly did get to sleep with Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto softly playing in my ears. 2 strings of nurses kept Be-boppin' in and out every hour or two taking my temp bloodpressure, and pulse.
Finally morning came, so right around 8:45 mom made me get up and order breakfast. After that was accomplished, I laid back and took it easy. After desayuno, I attempted some of my schoolwork but gave up on it about 1/2 hour in so I thought I'd nap for a bit. Bit indeed. When I woke up, I discovered that it was a full three hours later, and I needed to order lunch. I did so. I got some reading done,and snoozed some more. Countless nurses came in, some downright friendly, like R, and then some then would scarcely do a good job. R was my M, from Dallas Presby. She's what made it liveable, except the repeated visits to my room to re-adjust the leads on my head. Starting at 4pm we turned on the Glenn Beck show. We stayed around that tv for seven hours that day. Program after program. It sorta reminded me of the trips we would take up to Oklahoma to see my grandparents. Hotel-wise that is. We used to spend hours around the tv just soaking up the classics. At the end of that marathon, I knew I needed a shower, but you can't while you have the "purse" on you, so you have to take a sponge bath. I needn't tell you how many ropes there were to untangle that day concerning my "ladies bag." It was a pain in the royal can! Anyhow, the 2nd night was better since we knew what to expect. The morning of the third day passed like the first, and around noon, the neurosurgeon came in to say I had been a productive fellow (having lots of seizures) and that he would like to run another test on me. Trouble was, the techncians who were ran the test were out with the pig flu. So he released me. I left the hospital in style, in a sort of wheelchair with me sitting up front and the baggage in the back.
So, I've had my first VEEG in Houston, but sadly, I wouldn't make it my last.
