revised coma description
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Thanks for all the tips and input regarding my text. Here is the revised version if anyone wants to critique it further. I so appreciate all who responded. My deadline is looming...............
""I am Doctor Fallon. I am in charge of your husband's care. Please sit down", he said as he motioned to the empty seats behind them. "I'm afraid your husband is in a coma" he continued, flipping through Daniel's chart. "Here is what we've deduced about his condition: He has suffered a traumatic brain injury from his car accident. The force of the impact from the left, the driver's side of his car, caused his brain to slam against the right side of his skull. The car spun around and slammed into a retaining wall which compounded the already violent back and forth motion of his brain. This is called coup-contrecoup."
Megan's face had a puzzled look that came up on the fear and worry already there.
"Let me explain further" the attentive doctor sustained. "Daniel has an epidural bleed which means he is bleeding between his brain and his skull. There is also severe swelling and that is why he is in surgery. You see, your brain is inside your skull. When trauma causes the brain to swell, the skull's confining space keeps it from being able to expand; so pressure builds up. Blood supply is then cut off and ischemia develops. This is a term that we use to define lack of blood flow or oxygenation to tissues. That could cause a stroke or even death. Unfortunately he has some internal injuries as well, and was in severe hypovolemic shock. These are the insults they are addressing in surgery right now. Though in critical condition, he is certainly lucky to be alive."
The word "lucky" jumped out at her like a snake. She reviled back from the doctor. "Lucky?"
"Quite frankly, he should have died in this crash-especially since he was not wearing a seat restraint. Now, Megan, let me explain the level of his coma. We use what is called the Glasgow Coma Scale. A three on this scale, is the lowest possible score of a person in a coma. A fifteen is of a normal appearing person. Your husband's evaluation revealed the score of...." Just then the doctor's pager beeped loudly, and it distracted him for a moment while he fumbled to turn it off. Their eyes reconnected. "Your husband's score was a five. I must be honest and tell you that his prognosis is not very good. We are doing everything we can for him, and he is in very good hands. Our team has tremendous expertise in traumatic brain injury but you should know that there is only so much we can do for him. This is not an exact science, and you need to prepare yourself for either outcome, Mrs. Tasselvan."
"What kind of damage will there be if he survives?" she asked him, never allowing her eyes to avert his, in case she would miss meaning that couldn't be expressed with just words.
"His neurological damage did not only occur at the moment of impact. It will evolve over the ensuing hours or days. Time will have to show us. These things are very unpredictable. If you are a praying woman, I would suggest that you pray for a miracle."
THEN IN DANIEL'S ROOM THIS IS HOW I WROTE IT:
After signing in, they were escorted to Daniel's bedside. Megan was immediately overwhelmed with emotion, and grabbed the Pastor's arm to steady herself. She thought she would be sick as she got a closer look. She knew it was Daniel, but didn't recognize the person laying there. Daniel's face was so puffed-up and bloated looking. His skin was pitted, probably from the glass that had shattered onto his face. There were still tiny glistening bits she could see imbedded in his ears. His eyes were swollen tightly shut and welts of maroon and deep purple bruises surrounded them. Stitches tore through his forehead zigzagging in several different directions, leaving a path of dried blood behind. Down the front of his gown were remnants of a brown liquid of some sort, smeared in the mop up attempt. Why didn't they give him a fresh gown? But how would they get this one off him? Tubes and wires seemed to be coming out of everywhere, his mouth, nose, and stomach. Multiple IVs were pricking his skin. Bottles with indistinguishable labels hung at varying heights around his bed. Standing guard over him, too, were machines and monitors ticking and beeping and whooshing. Their colored lights blinked at intervals, keeping watch with the rhythm of the room. The sight of it all replicated the set of a television trauma show she and Daniel watched regularly. Only now they were living it!