This year I spent roughly 100 hours at ORMC. During my grandpa’s surgery to replace the aortic valve in his heart, the cords in the mitral valve were torn. This caused a severe leak in his heart and a minor stroke. A few days later doctors tried emergency surgery to patch the leak, but it wasn’t successful. After a few weeks, the doctors decided he had recovered enough to move to the rehab center at ORMC. The months we spent at ORMC were some of the most dramatic of my life. My emotions and outlook changed with the frequent shifts in my grandpa’s health, leaving me constantly scared of getting too hopeful. ORMC is a place filled with powerful emotions, and I will always have a strong connection to it.
When he first got to ORMC, we were excited about the prospect of recovery. However, we soon came across more obstacles. When he got there, he was responsive and able to explain to the doctor exactly what he wanted to get out of rehab. However, the next morning his disposition had reversed. When the physical therapists came, Grandpa was uncommunicative and refused to even get out of bed. The doctors discovered significant internal bleeding. Grandpa was readmitted to the hospital.
For the next three weeks, new problems arose as previous issues were solved. The doctors said this way of living was not sustainable the night before my grandpa’s birthday. We asked Grandpa what he wanted to do for his birthday he responded that he wanted something, “Elegant, handsome, and fun,” so we set out to do that. We got a top hat and decorated the hospital room with banners, gold streamers, balloons, and we had my grandpa’s favorite, Blue Belle. The day of his birthday celebration was bittersweet. It was one of his better days mentally. He seemed to enjoy it, and we all had fun. However, in the back of our minds was the thought that this would probably be his last birthday with us.
The next day, a new doctor took a look at my grandpa’s case and believed he could do more. He recommended a blood transfusion and afterward we saw a drastic improvement. The next day, he was back to his old self. My dad told him about my softball game, and my grandpa kept asking when I would be there to tell him more. Once I got there, he said, “Heyyyy!” to me in the way he always had and held my hand while I told him what happened. He listened intently and told me I did a good job. This was the grandpa I had been missing for so long and to get to talk to him again for the first time was incredibly special.
Grandpa recovered well and was ready to move back to the rehab unit. This began a period of hope and excitement. When I got to ORMC the day my grandpa moved to rehab, he greeted us excitedly and gave us a tour of the floor and his room. This time at rehab, my grandpa performed extremely well in all his therapies. His mental state was almost completely restored, and he was enthusiastic about getting better. One night, when my dad was driving me home from a softball game, we decided to visit for a few minutes just before bed. Grandpa and I danced to George Jones, his favorite artist. In just two weeks, my grandpa made drastic improvements physically and mentally, and the rehab center cleared him to go home. We were incredibly inspired by his improvements, and hopeful for the future.
Just before his discharge, he had severe swelling in his arm which began another period of despair. The doctors decided to keep him in rehab for a few more days. During this time my grandpa got a C. difficile infection and became very weak. The next morning, we came into his room to find the rapid response team preparing to move him to ICU. Overnight, his blood pressure had gotten dangerously low and his hands and feet were blue and cold to the touch. My whole family spent the day with him in ICU. He was responding well to the treatments. However, soon the nurse told us he had stopped improving and apologized to us for, “not being able to work her magic better.” Although that day was awful, there were still a few nice moments. One time my grandpa was groaning and when I asked him what I could do for him he told me to dance, so I did a Tik Tok dance and he said, “good job.” He also talked to my dad and said, “You’re a good man, Barrett. I love you.” That night, my dad called to say that my grandpa was declining rapidly and we rushed to ORMC. While we were driving he passed away. We walked into the room and my dad wrapped me in a hug and said he loved me. We sat in the room for an hour. We listened to his favorite song and talked about how much he meant to us. Then we went upstairs to talk to the rehab workers. We all stood in a circle crying and they talked to us about how he was the perfect patient.
Although my experience at Orlando Regional Medical Center ended in heartbreak, I still think back on it fondly. When I picture the rehab unit the overwhelming feeling of hope and good memories come flooding back. When I think about the doctors and nurses who cared for my grandpa, I am incredibly thankful for all the time and effort they put into his case. When I think of his hospital room on the fifth floor, I remember sitting by my grandpa’s bed holding his hand talking about my day. ORMC is an incredibly meaningful and emotional place for me and I will always remember the time I spent there.
Such a sweet tribute, Macy. You made me cry again! I wish I could have seen your grandpa dance with you. He loved you so much!
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