On June 1st, I went into the hospital for the admission I was dreading more than any other. I would be getting a PICC line placed and starting TPN. I would be in the hospital for at least a week to see how my body adjusted to TPN, and my life leaving the hospital would not be the same.
We received the call that a bed had opened late in the afternoon, meaning there had been plenty of time for me to work up some nerves about the admission. When I arrived, it was too late to place the PICC line and start TPN, so I received IV fluids in an attempt to reverse my acute kidney injury. The next morning, my blood work showed that my kidney injury and dehydration had improved, but the malnutrition had become even more clear. I desperately needed intervention.
As I was wheeled down to interventional radiology, my heart was racing for the PICC line placement, but at least I would be given sedation. At least I thought I would. Unfortunately, when I arrived, the radiologist told me that there had been a mix-up and I would be completely awake for the placement. This news shot my heart rate up even higher. I was terrified to have the line placed. But I had no choice. When the procedure started, I received a few lidocaine shots as a local anesthetic to take away most of the discomfort of the procedure. The shots burned, but after a few seconds I could feel nothing. During the procedure, I felt heavy pressure on my arm as the fed the line through the vein and up to my heart. It was slightly uncomfortable, but not painful. Mainly it was just a very unusual feeling that I hadn’t experienced before.
Soon after the procedure, I was brought back to my room and was told by the GI team that my TPN would start in a few hours. I waited nervously to see what being on TPN would be like. I knew I would be hooked up 24/7 for the first couple days, in order to get my body used to this new type of nutrition. I was upset that I had become sick enough to need TPN, but I was hopeful that it would aid in healing and give me some new energy. I could barely make it up the stairs each night, so I badly needed more fuel for my body that I was unable to receive by mouth.
I spent the next week in the hospital. A few friends came to visit, and my favorite nurses came by when they had time, but most of the time I was sad and bored. I occasionally went out to the patio outside to eat a few bites and enjoy the fresh air, which I enjoyed. Finally, I was allowed to go home. My body had responded well to TPN, and I was stable enough to be at my house instead of the hospital. After a lesson on how to care for my PICC line and how to set up TPN, we finally drove home. A nurse would come to my house once a week to get bloodwork and change the dressing on my line.
Adjusting to life with TPN and a PICC line was hard. I couldn’t get my arm wet, making even showering tricky. And TPN dictated my daily schedule, as I was hooked up to an IV between 8 pm and 12 pm each day. But I could see some positive changes in my energy and fatigue within the first week. I was even able to wake surf at the beach with my arm wrapped in plastic wrap and a waterproof PICC cover. This was something I never would have been able to do without the energy that TPN had brought to my weak body. As much as I hate the PICC line and TPN, part of me is grateful for it.
Kate's Courage 