Changing Seasons: Part Three-my final post for THIS situation…

by | Jun 9, 2024 | Anxiety, Coping with Stress, Emergency Room, Family Health, Hospital Stay, Parenting, Prayer, Self Care, Single Parenting

Part Three:

And here we arrive at the final chapter of the great health scare of 2024.

Well, the first one anyway…

We are going to highlight Friday and Sunday in this post, as they were the days of fun and adventure… and the rest were filler days. LOL

The ambulance arrived at the hospital I would be admitted into. The doors opened and a burst of WARM air hit me.

Y’all. You know me! It was February… and it was warm! I was not happy at all. I looked up at the paramedic and mentioned the temperature. It wasn’t fair! It’s warm outside and I’m stuck to a gurney going into a hospital for God knows how long!

“Yeah. It’s supposed to be nice for a few days! Then, cold again.” She said as they wheeled my gurney from the truck to the doors of the ER.

I was too miserable to be upset for long, though. I had been bleeding for weeks, I was barely alert, and I had several feet of gauze shoved up where things don’t need to be shoved to slow the flow of blood.

To shorten the ER part of this tale, I will say that the Dr’s came in, OBGYN department knew I was coming and they knew I was “packed” and they were furious. The first thing they did after drawing yet more blood from my person was get that hot mess out of my body.

And when they did…

Red Niagara! For minutes! And then, Red Lake Michigan (or whatever large body of water) …

Everyone in there was like, “Oh my… whoa. Ok… more blood for you!”

It was then explained to me that my bleeding was internal… and it needed a place to go. So, if the “exit” from my body was closed off, it would start finding other places inside to retreat to. Not good, apparently.

Thankfully, Mom made it there to sit with me during my torture and torment shortly after I arrived in the ambulance. She got all the kiddos ready and off to their respective school destinations before following me up to the hospital.

By now, it’s mid-morning on Friday. I’m exhausted. Depleted. Have nothing left to give, at all. In more ways than one! They got me all set up and sent up to surgery floor for my stay while they decided exactly what was going to be done about my “unique situation” as they called it so many times.

Finally in my room on the 4th floor, I get to meet my nurses for the first time. A time of enormous discomfort for myself, and lots of sympathy for them from me as well.

I was soaked, not functional, unable to even sit up on my own at this point. I tried… gosh I tried! They had to clean me up as soon as I arrived, change my bed, my clothes, put an adult diaper thingy on me because the hemorrhaging was NOT letting up at all, and try to do it ALL while I’m laying in this bed!

Y’all. These nurses got skills!

After the magic they performed getting me and my bed changed out while I was still in it, they were able to reach out to my OBGYN to see if they were going to take out the baby growing system that day. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in 24 hours. Mama was living off whatever was going into my body via IV tubes.

While we waited for word from the Docs, I got set up with more blood, iron infusions, and some other concoction via IV bags to give me some sort of nutrients.

I also got to meet lots of nurses, techs, lab personnel, some student doctors, and other people who apparently couldn’t wait to see the “unique situation” that was in room 409.

Fast forward to that afternoon. The doctor came in and explained how he determined best to handle my situation.

“Between a rock and a hard place” was used to describe me multiple times by all the people I encountered.

My Dr referred to me as “Interesting”, “unique”, “complicated”, and other things as well.

So, let’s review my situation:

I have blood clots in my lungs. I am bleeding. A lot! The bleeding needs to stop. But the concern is the clots… which is as bad (and could be worse). Both needs treated/fixed. But, given that one is total opposite of the other… only one can be treated/fixed at a time.

It was determined that I would be having an ablation procedure to try to slow/stop the bleeding. I would have to be taken off my blood thinners for 2 days prior to the surgery, if possible, but if the bleeding got worse 1 day would do if absolutely necessary.

Every decision maker in my medical case determined that a hysterectomy would make my already difficult situation worse and wanted to do the least alteration possible to my body, get me back on the blood thinners, and on the road to recovery ASAP.

With the plan in place, it was determined that I could finally EAT!

Y’all… I ate whatever they could bring me! Sandwiches, chips, yogurts, crackers, all of it! I munched on those wonderful ice chips that hospitals have for hours in complete bliss!

That evening, a dear friend of my mom and I came to see me and bring a cute flower with a balloon on it to brighten my room. We chatted, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. I remained reclined safely in my bed as any time I would even try to sit up without the bed lifting me my heartrate would jump into the 120’s. Everyone saw it. I was hooked up to all these monitors so they could see anytime my heartrate jumped at the nurse’s desk.

So, that prefaced my next part of the story…

While we were chatting, one of my WONDERFUL nurses came into the room to see if I could get up to go to the bathroom. A: I felt like I needed to and told them so, and B: they needed to see if I could stand on my own two feet.

I could not…

I got up, made it to the bathroom, and mind you I had been doing this at home for two weeks already, not realizing how BAD it was for me to do so…

I make it to the bathroom. I’m dizzy. But man, I had to PEE! So, I start trying to “do my thing” and I hear a phone ring in my room.

Yeah… that was the nurses desk calling my charge nurse to see if I was ALIVE at this point, because (unbeknownst to me) my heart rate was 155 and my BP had bottomed out waaaaaay below readings of anyone who is conscious.

I opened the bathroom door, took one look at my nurse and said, “Yeah… this wasn’t a good idea. I don’t feel well.”

My mother and our dear friend were in the room, eyes fixated on the monitors. My mother’s face was probably as white as mine at this point, obviously not for the same reason, and they were both immobile as the nurse guided me back to my bed.

I collapsed there, dizzy, nauseous, clammy, sweaty, and barely alert at this point.

It took a few minutes for my brain and my body to communicate to each other that I was back in bed and my heart could settle down. But once they did things got a little better by the minute.

More blood. More iron. More blood taken from me to see my counts.

Days of poking, testing, poking, testing, more poking again…

Blown veins. Bruises. Sores. Fatigue. Restlessness. Depression.

Missing my kids…

Five days I was in there.

The ablation was done on Sunday morning. I was out for a bit, procedure completed. Pain. Lots of pain. Anxiety and fear that the procedure wouldn’t work. Paranoia. Depression. I missed my kids… a lot!

Thankfully, I had some yarn and my crochet hook with me while I was enjoying my stay at hotel Memorial Hospital. My bestie came to sit and visit the day before I was discharged. She brought her yarn and hook as well, and we got to sit and crochet, sip coffee, and chat about all the happy things in life. It was an uplifting moment during a time when the walls were closing in!

The day I was discharged a dear friend came to visit and bring me coffee. She got to be my ride home, and boy was I GLAD to escape back to my home and my kiddos! That ride home was another uplifting moment in a dark time! We laughed together, caught up with each other on life, and she got to be a witness to another small miracle in my life that will be for another post, another day. I will say this, God’s timing is most definitely impeccable!

Fast forward to today:

The ablation did work. It took months for the effects of the blood clots and then the heavy bleeding to finally fall away, and I do still have some every now and then. But I am doing so much better today than I was 5 months ago!

The support I have received through these months has been amazing! Thank you all for keeping me in thoughts and prayers, and lending assistance while we walked this crazy road!

ALL the love!

~B~

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Changing Seasons: Part Two-From ER to Admit, again.

Changing Seasons: Part Two-From ER to Admit, again.

by | Jun 9, 2024 | Anxiety, Emergency Room, Family Health, Hospital Stay, Self Care

Ok, so we are picking up where we left off with the previous post.

I was sent home and a few days later my period started. Or at least we THINK it was my period.

And I bled…

And bled…

And for more than a week I bled…

And FINALLY on day 10, I figured something might be wrong, as it was getting worse instead of better after 7 days. It was getting worse.

I wasn’t just “bleeding” per say, I was hemorrhaging…to death. I just didn’t realize it at the time.

I called my mom to let her know something was up and I probably needed to go back to the ER. First, I knew I was low on fluids and dehydrated, so I figured if I went to the ER they would give me some fluids and do some tests, maybe keep me another day or two for observation again, and send me home.

I was very, VERY wrong.

What made it worse was that Rayne was still up when I left. It was pretty early in terms of nighttime hours, but Asher was in bed when he was supposed to be. Rayne, in her typical fashion, was determined to beat us all in terms of staying up late.

Rayne stood next to the door and said, “Where are you going Mommy?”

I gave her a hug and said “I’m just going to the doctor baby. I’ll be back.”

She held my neck super tight and said, “So you’re coming back to us?”

Y’all… that hit me hard. I knew something was up in my body. I just didn’t know how bad it truly was.

But in my heart of hearts I knew I was going to come back home. So, I told her so.

“Yes spanky. I’m coming right back. I just need to see the doctor first, okay? Will you go to sleep for bubby tonight?”

And she let me go, bouncing around on the couch all excited about being home with her teenage brothers. “Okay mommy! I’ll go to sleep later!”

And I walked out the door……….

Mom and I had short conversations about stuff on the way to the ER: Kids, the possible outcomes of the ER visit, Rayne asking me if I was coming right back… my mommy heart was aching. But my body was exhausted!

We got there and the receptionist asked who was there and what for. I told them I had been there previously for the other issue and that something was very wrong because I’m bleeding, and it wasn’t stopping.

My heart rate was through the roof. I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t breathe, but I was on blood thinners so the lung issue was better… however the breathing trouble combined with the heart rate… (it was 144 merely after standing up from my bed and taking a few steps) they knew something was not right.

God bless those nurses! They were the same ones who saw me 13 days prior, as was the doctor!

We kept it pretty light-hearted for the most part, throughout the visit. Jokes were made about “Next time you wanna see us this bad, lets do lunch or something!” and “I’d prefer to see you at Wal-Mart instead of here!” And we all had some good giggles throughout.

There was talk about lung issues continuing even with the blood thinners, due to damage, long term effects of Covid, etc., UNTIL… the blood results came back.

The poor Dr came into the room and said, “Remember all those things I said about your lungs earlier?”

I held my breath… “Yeah?”

“So, forget all of that. You have lost a LOT of blood, and you are bleeding to death… slowly.”

Fan-Tastic…

So, they set me up with two transfusions right there in the ER while we waited for more instructions and direction as to what was about to happen with me.

I’m already a hot mess, hearing that I’m just slowly leaking life right out of myself, my child was worried about me not coming home that night and here I was, lying in a bed with liquid life starting to flow through me from another source… not knowing if I was going home anytime soon or not.

Doc comes back later and says I’m going to be transported to the hospital where my OBGYN performs surgeries, and I will be looking at a possible emergent hysterectomy!

The only issue (not a small one either) is that, in my county, there is only one ambulance that runs between 11pm and 7am. So… I have to lay in agony and frustration, and my own blood no less, until 7am to be transported.

THEN………. To make matters even MORE interesting. The doc comes in and says, “we are going to pack (your area) to prevent more hemorrhaging until you get to your destination.”

Yall…

You guys…

I will spare you all the horrid details of that portion of the night. But I will say that the morphine shot I got afterwords was a GODSEND!!

That shot, however, did not make it into my veins until about 20 minutes prior to my transport to the next destination. So… I was suffering for some time prior. Much time.

I tell my mom to go get some sleep, because the coming day is going to SUCK for everyone, and she goes home to rest in her recliner for a couple of hours until it was time for her to get all my kiddos ready for school.

I didn’t rest at all. I was struggling. Physically, mentally, emotionally… I was a hot mess!

What was happening to me? Why was this happening to me? Would I get better? I had no idea. And I had no idea when I would see my kiddos again. I even laid there wondering IF I would see them again!

Dark places, that’s where my mind went.

Finally, the hour of my transport came. Thankfully the medics moving me were people I knew from my work as a police officer in the past. It was a good ride… the morphine helped my disposition for the journey, I’m sure. LOL

I got lots of well-wishes from the staff in the ER as I was being prepped to roll out. We were all becoming such good friends… haha!!

I went in trying to assure them I’m not a “frequent flyer” and I left with all the best wishes and prayers following me that I could ever imagine getting. Gosh, what a wonderful crew! All of them!!

The ride to the next hospital was fun, entertaining, and full of “catching up” with old friends. We had good times.

Getting to the next ER was good. The temperature outside was GLORIOUS at our arrival. I made jokes about getting this bad on the worst day possible. I just wanted to sit outside. Not lay in some gurney in an ER awaiting my fate…

But wait, I did. In a tiny room at the backside of a hospital far from my kids, my home, my family, my work, all of the things that I do daily.

And part 3 will end this blog saga of my health scare of 2024… the first one anyway…

Because we have so much more to talk about!

~B~