I spent my Saturday night in the least imagined way — in the Emergency Room.
I started feeling bad yesterday afternoon, but hoped it would go away. My upper abdomen/chest felt funny and nothing I did would make it better. It kept getting worse and the best way I can describe it is that it was like someone was sitting on my chest. And, I had labored breathing.
I was freaked out and didn’t know what to do and the more scared I got, the worse it got. I just kept saying, “Something is not right.” Finally, my family called 911. I was embarrassed for the rescue squad to come, but at the same time, I was scared. I was worried about a clot, but didn’t share my fears with anyone. I didn’ t have to because the rescue squad guys picked up on the possibility immediately.
- I am post-op from major ortho surgery.
- I have a clotting disorder, Factor V Leiden.
- I had just stopped taking coumadin and stopped wearing my compression socks.
- My symptoms.
They took my vitals and decided to take me to the hospital. By the time they got me in the ambulance, I was panicking. I had never been in one before and never wanted to be in one. My blood pressure was 135/100 and pulse was 115. I started shaking like I was going to bounce right off the stretcher. My legs looked like they were possessed. Also, they took a pulse ox reading and one guy showed it the other like “oh, this is bad” trying to hide it from me and that scared me. I just kept thinking, why am I going to the hospital? I just got out of the hospital. I don’t ever want to see the hospital again.
We got there and I got a hall spot, which was weird. I started feeling better. Pain wasn’t completely gone, but much better. People all around us were in lots of pain or very sick. Lots of moaning, throwing up, etc. Not a happy place to be. Also, my doctor was coughing and blowing her nose. Super. Mom and I were quickly becoming germaphobes. It was awkward because I didn’ t have my walker or crutches, nor any shoes on. I had to go to the bathroom and they got me a wheelchair. I had to stand on the floor in my socks on the dirtiest, nastiest floor you could imagine — urine, blood and who knows what else. (Those socks got pitched later.)
They did a chest x-ray, which was fine. Then, they were waiting on bloodwork. It came back with elevated D-Dimer levels, which could indicate a clot. Great. Somehow, at this point, I was more calm and really just wanted to get out of there. Because of the bloodwork, they needed to do a CT scan. After that, it seemed like we waited forever for the results. Finally, they said everything looked good, but that I did have a nodule on my right lung and I need to follow up in 6-12 months. I have no idea what that is and I don’t even have the energy to think about it right now.
They still couldn’t explain what happened to me and why I felt the way I did, but it was comforting knowing that everything checked out. I still don’t feel great or quite right, but better than last night. I also feel like anxiety is brewing and I am doing everything in my power to push it back. I’m not sure if that’s possible, but I experienced crippling anxiety last summer while I was in so much pain and I don’t ever want to feel that again.
I felt so bad because this was Erick’s brother’s last night here and Erick spent it at the hospital, instead of with him. Also, my cousin had just come to visit and bring us dinner right about the time the rescue squad arrived.
I’m incredibly grateful to my aunt and uncle who came right over when they heard so they could help my dad with the babies.
This all happened one day after my one month post-op with my surgeon in Richmond. I was dreading the 6 hours in the car, but I did surprisingly well. I got a good report that I have good bone growth and my incision looks good. My surgeon was a little concerned that the screws appeared to be hitting the femoral head, but said it’s probably just the angle of the xray. (?) He said if so, I would know it. So, really hoping that’s not the case. Of course, we can remove the screws later.
I was happy with the report overall and extremely proud of myself for handling the car ride AND using five public restrooms on my own. I know, right, exciting. For me, yes.
Right now, I am just tired of all of this. Tired of being so immobile. Tired of pain. Tired of my leg not moving. Tired of anxiety. Tired of hospitals. Tired of doctors. Tired of rarely leaving the house. Tired of my wheelchair. Tired of having to worry about things like clots. Tired of not sleeping. Tired of not being able to care for my babies and enjoy this time with them unencumbered.
My other new problem is that my previously “good” hip on the right is now hurting. It’s become tired of compensating and carrying the extra weight. So, now, it’s officially my bad hip. I hope that once my left side is 100% weight bearing, that the pain on the right will be alleviated.
I am making progress. I don’t want to paint everything as negative, but progress is small and slow and I just want to be well. Also, as soon as one thing gets better, something else gets worse. I can’t win.
I am calling on God in a big way right now, because I give up. This is too much for me. I can’t handle it. I’m not strong. I need help. I want to cast all of my tears, worry and pain on him.
And, to think I have to do this again just brings to me to tears and I just can’t face it. It’s too much.