Ziggy Stardust
Absolutely Sane
My dad got rushed to the hospital on Monday-morning. The artery in his belly, just after it splits to both legs was swollen and it ruptured. When this happens at that location, and not being in a hospital at the time, the patient has about a 15% survival rate. Now here comes the factors that made my dad survive this. Excuse the lack of medical terminology, even in Dutch I'm crap at that.
One of the thin membranes in the stomach stopped the bloodflow and provided counter pressure, but this was not going to hold for a long time. He was scheduled for pre-emptive operation 1 hour after when the artery ruptured. So the paramedics in the ambulance and in the emergency department knew exactly what the problem was when he was brought in. Because he was scheduled for this operation he was warned that whenever he started to feel nauseous, he shouldn't hesitate and dial 112 (911) which he otherwise would never have done. Even so, if this rupture would have happened 15 minutes later, he would have been in the car on the way to the hospital.
The operation went as well as it could be, and took 1 and a half hours because there were no complications. Two days later, he's out of bed, joking around and inquiring the doctors when he can go home again.
But it all started with 15%. Throw of the dice. When contemplating this, and being in Intensive Care around less fortunate patients and seeing the grief their loved ones are going trough, I realise we could so easily have been them. It made me feel guilty towards those people when we just had the news the operation was a success. Happy, but guilty. Which I realise is irrational, and I wouldn't trade places for anything in the world.
Been an exhausting 2 days. Left me with a lot to think about. I can't get that 15% out of my head.
One of the thin membranes in the stomach stopped the bloodflow and provided counter pressure, but this was not going to hold for a long time. He was scheduled for pre-emptive operation 1 hour after when the artery ruptured. So the paramedics in the ambulance and in the emergency department knew exactly what the problem was when he was brought in. Because he was scheduled for this operation he was warned that whenever he started to feel nauseous, he shouldn't hesitate and dial 112 (911) which he otherwise would never have done. Even so, if this rupture would have happened 15 minutes later, he would have been in the car on the way to the hospital.
The operation went as well as it could be, and took 1 and a half hours because there were no complications. Two days later, he's out of bed, joking around and inquiring the doctors when he can go home again.
But it all started with 15%. Throw of the dice. When contemplating this, and being in Intensive Care around less fortunate patients and seeing the grief their loved ones are going trough, I realise we could so easily have been them. It made me feel guilty towards those people when we just had the news the operation was a success. Happy, but guilty. Which I realise is irrational, and I wouldn't trade places for anything in the world.
Been an exhausting 2 days. Left me with a lot to think about. I can't get that 15% out of my head.
