2 air ambulances, six weeks in Germany, over 10k kilometers on the odometre, 25 weeks and 4 days after the accident, 3-times pneumothorax, half a dozen CTs, dozens of x-rays, one day to Christmas Eve,… 94% oxygen saturation, 134/87 blood pressure, pulse at 102, 30% oxygen, PEEP at 6, 4 days to the six-months mark, just eight days and this year will almost be over…

I have never counted so much in my life: days, weeks, months, the number of good and dreadful news.

This morning, we got a phone call from the hospital, “everything is well, no reason to be upset, this is just a routine call to ask for your consent to a routing procedure”. An Oberärztin I had never met was on the other side of the line and said that they wanted to do a CT of Pádraig’s lungs using a contrast agent to find out more about what was causing his lungs not to heal up, and the leak to stay open. They needed our consent. In the process, they proposed to do another CT of his head; the last had been done on 18 November. The idea, the Oberärztin explained, was to get the best diagnosis possible for the recurring pneumothorax – and getting ready for a possible pleurodesis. She was doing her job on the phone but overshot the mark a little adding some unnecessary drama to the mix when she said that Pádraig’s oxygen saturation had gone down significantly last night – which later in the afternoon when we double-checked turned out to be a false alarm: that had never happened. Even Germans can make mistakes. The only way to receive the fax with the consent form, and to send the signed copies back was to go to a hotel in St Peter-Ording and ask for the use of their fax machine. They could’t have been more helpful.

Following the drama at daybreak, the afternoon brought an important meeting. On the way up the stairs to Pádraig’s ward, we literally almost ran in to the chief consultant, the Chefarzt, who recognized me as Pádraig’s father – and stopped. What followed was a brief but concise and encouraging update by the man in charge. He definitely is trying everything in his power to avoid a pleurodesis. The Universitätsklinik Eppendorf (UKE) in Hamburg are the best in Germany regarding the treatment of trauma patients. They are now assisting medical staff in Pádraig’s case – trying out all sorts of tricks that could help them avoid the pleurodesis. The chief confirm that Pádraig was responding well to the ‘feuchte Nase’ (oxygen support as opposed to respirator), no word of the dramatic fall in oxygen saturation we had heard about before… – I had, really had, and could not resist had, a memory of us stopping a rehab consultant looking after Pádraig in Beaumont, and being chastized and censored for having done so.

Rather than about ethics, I had a long conversation with Pat about the difference between the hospi-tell culture in Germany and that in Ireland. It’s not about the money, it’s not about the facilities – it is about the culture.

Two days to Christmas day. And counting.

Today’s German Music Tip
NN, Erika (1930s) – zwo, drei, vier. Some of you will remember that a DJ on RTÉ for weeks played this song in the morning to wake his listeners up! During our first year in the family Gaeltacht in An Fál Carrach in 1989, I was asked to perform a party piece. When I could not come up with one, the round of people decided to do one for me: Erika. And I was not offended. :)f
What’s hot
Caring. Doctors. In. Hospitals.
What’s cold
Another storm is brewing up
Pleurodesis
The German word/phrase/verse of the day
Entwarnung

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