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“Chronicle of the Red Zone 3. Write slimy. The impressions of the fourth support on the front of Kovido are embedded as in a fossil rock. In a matter of minutes, the feelings in the “reactor” solidify into concrete and then have to be scraped archaeologically. You walked, you did, and the action behind the “spacesuit” panel happened.
“One hundred and five is not eating,” my nursing assistant yells. Talking about eating is difficult. But most importantly, drink. I convince him to suck water with the straw. A pierced hand pushes the cup away from itself after each sip from the catheter. Then turn your head and groan for a minute. When I stop moaning, I ask again if I want to drink, do I want to. Again, everything repeats as if you unscrew the tape, your hand pushes the cup, turns, moans. Maybe I’m just playing? But no, after repeating the painful ritual a few more times, the cup empties. Then we get over the other half ”, writes the politician about helping a sick woman.
She continues to teach that not only she but others need help in the department: “One hundred and sixteen” children “need help, not walking.” The young man is relatively healthy. But look what you compare. Seeing the uncoordinated movements, I initially offer a straw, but he grabs the cup with one hand and drinks it himself. “Sometimes it spills out if it’s full,” says the local neighbor. A neighbor of those eternally sixty intelligent connoisseurs. Let’s move on to the mush. I give it a teaspoon. Eat. I have a conditional satisfaction reflex from twins if someone eats well. I examine the man with my eyes.
A strong but seemingly damaged nervous system, the gaze is as if you are behind bulletproof glass. I’m here, and he’s out there somewhere … I’m swapping places in my mind. Now I am half paralyzed and someone gives me a teaspoon. Someday we will all lie like this. What happened to him, what diagnosis, does he have a family or will he have a full life again? “Here it is after the accident,” the neighbor covered the veil of secrecy, as if reading a thought. Suddenly the guy reaches out his hand and slaps my suit while leveling. “Paul,” I introduce myself, summarizing that I was interested in the name with a marker on his chest. I’m going to ask you what it’s called …
“He likes to play … when it happens”, the neighbor cautiously deconstructs the situation. Consequences of the accident. He stares through the bulletproof glass as if asking, “Why am I here?”, Like a mad professor lost in his laboratory. Suddenly, the spoilers stretch out and begin to urinate directly on the bed. Of course, we will arrange it conveniently. We calmly finish the porridge teaspoon after teaspoon. “Why am I here?” Asks the look of the lost teacher, – a member of the Seimas taught about the help needed for the child.
And right here, he still manages to communicate with others in the department.
“In the adjacent pavilion, we discussed the parachute jumps with a reserve officer. There is nothing better than remembering past hikes and adventures. Maybe just a sip of air or water. I am happy with the cup that the weakened grandmother overcomes. “I wonder if it’s snowing now,” asks the neighbor of the neighborhood. I raise the curtain by opening the world to the joy of the residents of the neighborhood. “What snow, the grass is green, spring has arrived”, I show. “Take the wheels and take Mr. Ž from 16 to 18 for dialysis.” After joining the sixteen, I ask two guys which one is Mr. Ž. Nobody admits it, but it tries something semi-Lithuanian, semi-Russian. “Are you Mr. Z? No? Then you? I turn to the neighbor, not understanding. “Mr. Ž himself came out” with these “demonstrates how he goes on crutches. We laughed with the nurses my patient escaped from. I enter the next ward. Our eyes meet. Anxiety is hard on his face. No for me, apparently for the baby. “They give me a reduced dose of this medicine,” she explains, wrapping her arms around her already swollen belly. The virus is not contagious. Next to her, the student “na dizainera učitsa” – draws legs crossed on the bed “, said P. Saudargas his experience.
And finally, it explains what pulmonary ventilation really means. The Seimas member said it was not a pleasant procedure.
“Here is more life, she is nailed to life …” It’s better today, “writes the young man on the phone, pointing to a bandaged neck, probably after a trachostomy … What does it mean to be connected to the famous lung ventilator “If you think it’s a slightly larger oxygen mask on your face, it isn’t. Everyone wears such masks here.”
Ventilation of the lungs takes place during resuscitation. Sometimes it is intubated through the airway, sometimes a trachiotomy is performed: the neck is cut and a plastic tube is inserted into the windpipe. Anyone who’s been tested for covid will likely assume that they won’t be quiet for long with a tube inserted into their nose, causing patients to fall asleep. They stop breathing on their own, the robot breathes behind them, attached electrodes and other probes measure heart rate, oxygen uptake, and blood pressure. Various medications are pumped through the inserted catheters. Enteral feeding, hemodialysis for someone. Patients become sleeping biorobots whose lives are supported by a group of technicians and staff, ”wrote the politician.
He also gave advice: stay home because the consequences can be very sad.
“The patient needs to be given more than 100 kg. Severe patients with comorbid diseases, heart or diabetes, are often overweight. We stop several times on both sides of the bed, we press firmly, twisting the upper and lower sheets together. We are waiting for the team. Someone with more knowledge than the volunteers holds all the hoses and hoses so that they do not disconnect when translating. In number three, we slide harmoniously to the side of the bed, then we turn to the side and lie down face down. It turns out that with intensive treatment of the lungs, patients also need to lie face down part of the time. Flip-around, on the other hand, ensures the prevention of bedsores, although in practice this is difficult to combat, especially when there is a shortage of staff. The tube inserted through the hole in the neck should be replaced periodically. I help to support some accessories. The doctor works exact mind like clockwork: here every second is expensive.
The whistle turns off the oxygen. The thinner tube is temporarily inserted into the thicker one, penetrating deeper and deeper into that rough hole in the neck. The thick is replaced and then the thinner is taken out. The doctor says something about a blood clot that is removed along with the tube. The TAS lung ventilator is reconnected. “Intensive care” is an operation that lasts for weeks. Here, without interruption, tubes and catheters are cleaned, used, drug pumps filled, vital signs checked, and thousands more performed that cannot be described as biophysical alone. There are no free hours here, neither day nor night, nor weekends, nor Christmas. Every second is precious here, here is the last front line. There are no more lung ventilators behind. There is nothing behind. Don’t go, stay home … ”, wrote P. Saudargas.
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