Currently, Ariel Sharon, the Prime Minister of Israel, is in a drug-induced coma. Randall McCloy, a miner trapped in the Sago Mine, West Virginia, was kept in a drug-induced coma, and has recently been awakened.
I was in one, from July 14th until August 25, 2001.
I'd gone into the hospital for what is commonly referred to as a "routine surgery," that of getting a dorsal hernia repaired. When I went into surgery, it was supposed to be "routine," that is...until I was asleep for five weeks. Somehow, during my hernia repair surgery, my lungs stopped working. It's called A.R.D.S. or Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome, and my lungs lost their ability to expand and contract, or, their ability to breathe.
Because I was already in surgery, and under anesthesia, it wasn't too difficult for my surgeon to give me an increase of medications, basically Ativan, Pavulon, and morphine, to put me into the coma, then he gave me a tracheotomy (an incision in the windpipe, as Ariel Sharon has recently received...) in order to attach me to a forced breathing machine, attempting to restore my lungs to working condition.
After they gave me my tracheotomy, I needed approximately a month on a ventilator and the forced breathing machine before my lungs worked again, on their own. Then, they had trouble awakening me. Approximately two to three weeks after my lungs could breathe again, and after my doctors had backed me off of the coma-producing drugs, I awoke. One of the nurses on the ward took responsibility for waking me, because I guess that I woke up because, or while, she was laughing.
Then, another two weeks along, as the machines and tubes surrounding me lessoned, the doctors and surgeons were thinking about whether to make my tracheotomy permanent. One of those little voice boxes attached to my throat, where I'd have to cover the hole in my windpipe in order to talk, and remove the cover in order to breath.
After all of the heavy medications I had been on, I was having some pretty wild dreams. In fact, the whole time that I was in the coma, I was dreaming. The nearest thing that I can liken it to is Dorothy, in the Land of Oz, seeing all of her friends amidst the Tin Woodsman, the Lion, and the Scarecrow. All of my dreams were of my friends and family, and it was actually very calming. Of course, it didn't hurt that my friends and family were there to see me, and talk to me, everyday.
Anyway, one evening, as I was laying in my hospital bed, and my doctors were thinking of making my tracheotomy permanent, I dreamed that I was in some freaky AOL chat room or something, and I got out of bed.... This was before I'd relearned how to stand up and walk again...and before they'd pulled my "trache tube"/canula. If you've ever seen "Kill Bill, Vol. 1," I collapsed just like Uma Thurman, onto the floor, but I didn't look nearly as good as I fell.
Despite what you might think, there was actually a "good side" to my collapsing onto the hard linoleum-over-concrete floor, and bumping my head...as I fell, the trachea tube/canula was still attached to my ventilator, and stitched to my throat. Sure enough, as I fell, I inadvertently pulled the trachea tube/canula out of my windpipe, ripping the stitches.
I must have cried out as I fell, because I was soon surrounded by nurses. The duty nurse got my pulmonary surgeon on the phone, and checked the place where my trachea tube/canula had been, making certain that my windpipe was undamaged, and the tracheotomy incision was even...and that took care of their deciding to make my tracheotomy permanent.
I went through lots of occupational and physical therapy, and I can now walk, talk, eat, and do anything and everything that I could do before my drug-induced coma. It wasn't easy for me, but, I was "checked out"...it was hardest on my friends and family, who weren't certain that I'd be coming out of it.
About three days after I was released from the hospital, I went into a grand mal seizure, at my parents' home, apparently because of residual Ativan, Pavulon and morphine in my system, despite my having asked my doctors and surgeons to do their best to wean me off of them. It happened while I was sitting next to my Dad, and we were watching a Jackie Chan movie. 911 was called and I was taken back to the hospital. Then, a few days later, after I'd managed to produce a semi-nomal EEG, I was watching The Today Show, on September 11th, 2001, from my hospital bed, and Katie Couric announced an "accident," that a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center....
-----
What with seemingly so many people being put into drug-induced comas, in order to allow their bodies to heal, I felt like I should share what I went through. I'm no longer afraid of going into a medically-induced coma, because it wasn't nearly as stressful and heartrending, to me, as it was for my family and friends.
I'm not starting this thread as some sort of a "pity party," or anything, just to share what I went through. My lungs shutting-down wasn't as serious of an injury as Ariel Sharon's cerebral hemmorrhage, so my family and friends at least had some measure of hope that I could/would pull-through.
If you have any questions about drug-induced comas , I'd be happy to answer them as fully as I can, though I was on the "inside, looking out"....
GeoThorn
I was in one, from July 14th until August 25, 2001.
I'd gone into the hospital for what is commonly referred to as a "routine surgery," that of getting a dorsal hernia repaired. When I went into surgery, it was supposed to be "routine," that is...until I was asleep for five weeks. Somehow, during my hernia repair surgery, my lungs stopped working. It's called A.R.D.S. or Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome, and my lungs lost their ability to expand and contract, or, their ability to breathe.
Because I was already in surgery, and under anesthesia, it wasn't too difficult for my surgeon to give me an increase of medications, basically Ativan, Pavulon, and morphine, to put me into the coma, then he gave me a tracheotomy (an incision in the windpipe, as Ariel Sharon has recently received...) in order to attach me to a forced breathing machine, attempting to restore my lungs to working condition.
After they gave me my tracheotomy, I needed approximately a month on a ventilator and the forced breathing machine before my lungs worked again, on their own. Then, they had trouble awakening me. Approximately two to three weeks after my lungs could breathe again, and after my doctors had backed me off of the coma-producing drugs, I awoke. One of the nurses on the ward took responsibility for waking me, because I guess that I woke up because, or while, she was laughing.
Then, another two weeks along, as the machines and tubes surrounding me lessoned, the doctors and surgeons were thinking about whether to make my tracheotomy permanent. One of those little voice boxes attached to my throat, where I'd have to cover the hole in my windpipe in order to talk, and remove the cover in order to breath.
After all of the heavy medications I had been on, I was having some pretty wild dreams. In fact, the whole time that I was in the coma, I was dreaming. The nearest thing that I can liken it to is Dorothy, in the Land of Oz, seeing all of her friends amidst the Tin Woodsman, the Lion, and the Scarecrow. All of my dreams were of my friends and family, and it was actually very calming. Of course, it didn't hurt that my friends and family were there to see me, and talk to me, everyday.
Anyway, one evening, as I was laying in my hospital bed, and my doctors were thinking of making my tracheotomy permanent, I dreamed that I was in some freaky AOL chat room or something, and I got out of bed.... This was before I'd relearned how to stand up and walk again...and before they'd pulled my "trache tube"/canula. If you've ever seen "Kill Bill, Vol. 1," I collapsed just like Uma Thurman, onto the floor, but I didn't look nearly as good as I fell.
Despite what you might think, there was actually a "good side" to my collapsing onto the hard linoleum-over-concrete floor, and bumping my head...as I fell, the trachea tube/canula was still attached to my ventilator, and stitched to my throat. Sure enough, as I fell, I inadvertently pulled the trachea tube/canula out of my windpipe, ripping the stitches.
I must have cried out as I fell, because I was soon surrounded by nurses. The duty nurse got my pulmonary surgeon on the phone, and checked the place where my trachea tube/canula had been, making certain that my windpipe was undamaged, and the tracheotomy incision was even...and that took care of their deciding to make my tracheotomy permanent.
I went through lots of occupational and physical therapy, and I can now walk, talk, eat, and do anything and everything that I could do before my drug-induced coma. It wasn't easy for me, but, I was "checked out"...it was hardest on my friends and family, who weren't certain that I'd be coming out of it.
About three days after I was released from the hospital, I went into a grand mal seizure, at my parents' home, apparently because of residual Ativan, Pavulon and morphine in my system, despite my having asked my doctors and surgeons to do their best to wean me off of them. It happened while I was sitting next to my Dad, and we were watching a Jackie Chan movie. 911 was called and I was taken back to the hospital. Then, a few days later, after I'd managed to produce a semi-nomal EEG, I was watching The Today Show, on September 11th, 2001, from my hospital bed, and Katie Couric announced an "accident," that a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center....
-----
What with seemingly so many people being put into drug-induced comas, in order to allow their bodies to heal, I felt like I should share what I went through. I'm no longer afraid of going into a medically-induced coma, because it wasn't nearly as stressful and heartrending, to me, as it was for my family and friends.
I'm not starting this thread as some sort of a "pity party," or anything, just to share what I went through. My lungs shutting-down wasn't as serious of an injury as Ariel Sharon's cerebral hemmorrhage, so my family and friends at least had some measure of hope that I could/would pull-through.
If you have any questions about drug-induced comas , I'd be happy to answer them as fully as I can, though I was on the "inside, looking out"....
GeoThorn
