When They Speak, Everyone Jumps

It was shortly after 4:30 am. From a sound sleep Cathy and I were woken by the sudden flash of all the lights in the room being turned on and a transport nurse declaring "Good morning Mrs. Two-O-Mala, we are taking you to the ICU". Then, noticing me waking up from the couch, he declares "Good Morning Mr. Two-O-Mala". (I had given up months ago explaining the family politics and have accepted the fact that while at UCLA I am Cathy's other half and go by her surname. And my apologies to Jessica and Matt, I also gave up on trying to give the correct pronunciation of the last name).

"We need to get her down to the ICU". There was a tremendous sense of urgency. My only thought was that some doctor must have finally received the CatScan results and set things in motion with an urgency that you do not normally see. "This must be bad" were my thoughts. They barely moved this fast during Cathy's code blue.

As the sleep cleared from my eyes and I was completing the shoving of personal items in a bag, I noticed a mess on the floor on the opposite side of Cathy's bed. The respiratory therapist was wiping the floor with a towel under one foot while he was preparing the Bi-Pap for transporting (multitasking). He looked at me and said "yeah, a ceiling tile fell last night, I don't know how you two slept through it". (We were both exhausted from zero sleep the previous night). At that time, looking up, I noticed a wet spot on another ceiling tile and a spot where a fresh tile had been placed. (Evidently I slept through the repair also).

Within a few minutes we were dashing through the corridor on the way to the elevator and the fourth floor ICU (Oh no! Not the fourth floor ICU!). When we arrived at the ICU, a nurse that we both recognized asked me to give her a few moments while she settles Cathy in. "No problem", I said, "I'll go get a cup of coffee". Duh, we've been here before, this hospital does not have coffee available before 7:30 am on weekends. So off I go to find one of my favorite quite spots and wait.

Returning to Cathy's new address, I found her sleeping soundly. This gave me a small amount of relief, at least Cathy wasn't becomming anxious over being sent to the ICU. I found a comfortable corner in an uncomfortable chair with the intention of grabbing the first doctor I saw and get some answers. The nurse came into the room to tend to a beeping IV pump. I thought I would try my best communication skills and get some information from her. "So, the CatScan was that bad", in as casual a voice as I could muster. Her response: "I don't know anything about a CatScan". Not giving up I continued with an explanation about how we were told that if they found something on the CatScan Cathy would be transferred to the ICU. With the urgency with which she was transfered they must have found something serious. "Oh, no", she replied, "she was transferred out of the room because facility maintenance needed to get into the room to repair the ceiling. She came to this ICU because we are familiar with her. After the repairs are completed she will go back to the same room".

I guess we now know who has the stick around here.... Facility Maintenance.