A Harrowing Tale (New Amsterdam)

Improvement

"She's starting to posture." Dr. Candelario broke through as my eyes slammed open to the sound of rapid beeping on the machine. It was clear I was starting to fight against the breathing tube sustaining my breathing. I was afraid they would immediately push drugs, keeping me from struggling against it. I was a little more alert to know at any given point this happened, I still had to pass the readiness test to be extubated.

In one way, it was a scary feeling like I couldn't catch a breath. In other ways, I felt out of control as my room filled with doctors and nurses who worked on stabilizing me. With a flurry of commotion, I tried to make sense of what was going to happen. She did a number of tests on me as I laid there struggling on the gurney.

"Okay, Lauren. Looks like we're getting this tube out so you can start breathing on your own." She turned to the person beside her. "Let's start suctioning out of the tube. Lauren, in just a minute I'm going to need you to cough for me as I pull the tube out."

I can't breathe. Dang it for not being understood right now. Where was the little whiteboard when you needed it? The nurse handed her the suction, disconnecting the tube, and threaded the suction through the tube. The ventilator was replaced with the resuscitation bag. With each pump of air, I could feel my body spontaneously trying to breathe on my own. The tape holding the tube stable was loosened, cuff deflated from the inside.

"Just like we talked about before, I'm going to give you one deep breath and you're going to cough so I can pull this tube out. Ready?"

Yes.

"Big breath in." Dr. Candelario instructed, not giving me much time to prepare myself that I felt like my lungs were going to explode. I coughed, gasping a bit as I got used to sucking in a breath on my own. "This is going to help bring air back to your lungs. We're also going to hang around for the next hour or two to make sure you're okay breathing on your own." Suctioning my mouth, '' she placed the mask over my nose and lips. I couldn't help but breathe in a sigh of relief feeling that extra bit of oxygen. Breathing on my own was something I would never take for granted again.

Great, thanks. I wasn't ready to speak just yet, so I settled for a thankful gesture I hoped would come across in the right way. I wasn't sure how long I had been nodding off when I heard his voice echoing across the room before she spoke his name out loud.

"Dr. Frome." Dr. Candelario sounded quite pleased at his presence in the room. "She just got her tube out."

"That's great. How's she doing?"

"So far, so good. Blood pressure is holding stable. Of course, tolerating breathing on her own."

"What about pain tolerance?"

"As far as I know she's in no pain, which is remarkable given all the injuries she sustained in the accident."

"Thanks. I won't stay long." His heavy footsteps followed as he pulled the chair Floyd had been sitting in earlier up to the bed. I slowly gained the energy to open my eyes again."Hey, Lauren."

Iggy.

"It's been a while." I could tell he was a little apprehensive. That seemed to be what most people were feeling when they came to visit me. "How are you doing?"

Eh, I've been better. Reaching towards the small whiteboard tucked by the railing of the bed, I pulled the cap off and began scribbling back a completely different response than the one in my head. Couldn't be better.

"Ah, a little Lauren Bloom sarcasm. I'm glad you haven't lost it throughout all this." Pressing his hands together, he leaned his elbow against his leg. "That's good to see."

Mmm...How's the family?"

"They're good. Uh, Dr. Candelario told me you're in no pain, which is good because the drugs are doing what they're supposed to."

Guess so. Sensing a but in there somewhere.

"No but's. Just concern. Do you remember what we talked about that day before you left the hospital?" He lowered his voice knowing there were still a couple of nurses hovering nearby just in case anything happened.

Not really, no.

"We talked about how it's okay to tell someone what you're feeling. Not holding it all in."

I'll keep that in mind.

"Okay." Iggy relented, mostly because I wasn't in any shape to have the conversation he wanted to have. He still didn't seem convinced, and even in my drug-filled mind, I could guarantee this conversation would take place later. "I should get back to work. Just remember. I'm here for you if there's anything you ever want to talk about."

Thanks.

"One more thing." He paused midstep as he drew closer to stepping out that door. "I'm really glad to see you're okay. You have lots of people rooting for you and on your side if you need them to be. I don't have to tell you that you've been through something so remarkably difficult you don't have to be alone while dealing with it."

Although I wanted to ask if he had extended that same offer to Max and Helen, I knew he probably already had. He seemed different than his usual self, a hard but desperate edge to his tone. It was clear he was going through some things and it made me realize I had missed a lot while I was gone.

This hospital, these people were the home I never knew I needed. It was refreshing that people genuinely cared, even if they were acting like I was broken right now. I could share a laugh or joke with them without judgment. They knew what it was like coming to work every day, how difficult it was to roll out of bed after a long shift. I wasn't raising my sister while my mom got drunk while sitting on the couch every day. Instead, I was doing something with my life. I was Dr. Lauren Bloom, head of the emergency department at New Amsterdam.