I am once again home from the hospital-this time the local one. Early Sunday morning I rolled over in bed and pulled my PICC line out. For those who don't know, it's an IV line that goes into your arm and threads its way up and around and into your upper heart somewhere, that you can use for IV feeding(TPN) or antibiotics. I use it for the former.
I woke up with Roxy, my Chihuahua, at my side happily lapping something, thrilled because the bed had never offered such ambrosia before. It was my liquid "food" pouring out. I panicked a bit when I realized the PICC line was out of my arm, then called the company providing the TPN, and the sleepy nurse said it might have broken off inside, I probably should go to the ER. So we did, arriving at 6:00 AM.
A very long eventually later, the ER doc was sure he felt it in my arm, not listening to me when I told him that he was feeling scar tissue, and admitted me, around 2:00 PM. I was scheduled for a removal and insertion the Monday morning. They came for me at 1:45PM, took me to radiology and told me that if we had measured the PICC line that came out, we could have known if any was left inside!
The X-rays taken the day before showed nothing, but a radiologist had not gotten around to reading it yet. We called Rene at home, she measured the length of the line that came out, and it became clear that it had all come out, andnobody-especially me- would have had to do all the worrying about free floating pieces of plastic tube floating around in my arm or heart! Such stupidity, not on my part(how was I to know) but on the part of the nurse and ER doc.
I'm home now with a new PICC line, hoping I can have a few quiet days before the next shoe hits me in the head.