Robin's Hospital Story part 1

I have several friends and relatives who have written wonderful, beautiful stories about the birth of their children.  They are always titled "Sally's birth story"  (obviously not always with the name Sally). :)  I won't ever get to write one of those since I got my kids premade, so I thought I'd just borrow the name for my epic journey through 11.5 days in the hospital.  At day 7, I was going to call it "My 7 day sojourn" but that got blown out of the water.  "11 day event" just doesn't have that ring. :)  Anyway- here is part one of my journey through very serious illness and back to health.

First, I realized my last post of things I am thankful for is woefully incomplete.  I wrote it while under the influence of lots of narcotics, and I got interrupted a lot.  The point, though, was that there was so much to be thankful for, even in the midst of all this.  For example, I got 2 new pair of wonderful pajamas out of the deal! :)  OK- story time.

On Tuesday, August 12th, I went to work.  We had our meetings in the morning and I spent the afternoon making copies for world history and doing basic prep work.  Darrin picked me up around 3.  The boys were out with my dad all day, golfing and bowling and eating pizza.  Around 4:15 I was at the computer and I started shivering.  Before chemo, I was cold often.  Then I realized that now I'm usually warm, and it was 85 degrees outside.  I went upstairs to take my temperature- it was 100.1.  I'm supposed to call if it hits 100.5, but I usually run a low temp, so I knew I needed to call then, before the clinic closed.   The boys got home just as I was calling.  Dr. Buntinas told me to go to the ER.  I got to see the boys for less than 10 minutes before we left.  I wouldn't see them again for over a week.  That has been the absolute worst of all this.

We headed to St. Luke's, where they got me in within about 5 minutes.  Everyone had to wear a mask since I'm a chemo patient.  The time in the ER is hard to describe.  They had to bring a nurse down from 5C (oncology) to access my port, because they thought maybe that's where the infection was coming from.  They also wanted to put in a peripheral IV because they really aren't supposed to use the port- there is a risk of infection, and the PCI people recommend against anyone but them accessing it.  Anyway- there was a nurse who insisted on trying to find a vein, rather than letting the lab guy (who was in the room the whole time).  She couldn't get the vein and dug and dug and dug for it.  I was sobbing by the time she was done and I have a HUGE bruise to show for it.  They never did get anything placed in the ER- they had to send the flight nurses to my room at 11:30, and they even had a hard time.  Interestingly, every time I've been poked since (somewhere around 15 times), the lab techs have never missed.  Even when I was still really sick, they always hit their mark the first time.

The Resident on duty was really flummoxed as to what was going on with me, and said that people like me can go down hill really fast, which was not at all comforting.  My parents came down around 7 or 7:30 and let Darrin go get some dinner.  Around 10 or 11 they finally sent me up to a room on 5C- oncology and neurology.  That's where I was several weeks ago when we couldn't get the vomiting under control.  I was starving, since I hadn't eaten since lunch, so Darrin went out and got me a Frosty and fries.  (potatoes and ice cream!)  I've always liked this combination, though he thinks it's weird.  He sat right at the edge of my bed and held my frosty while I lay curled up slowly dipping my fries and eating them.  I will never forget the look in his eyes as we shared that moment.  I tear up just thinking about it.  That is why a frosty and fries has come to epitomize love to me.  :)

Sometime late that night or early that morning I went into septic shock, so I was moved to the cardiac ICU.  Septic shock is when your blood pressure goes really low, your temp and pulse really high, and one other thing I can't remember.  I had all 4.  I remember asking what it meant and a nurse replied that if it wasn't controlled, people die from it.  That was scary.  They took my vitals every 15 minutes for several hours, and I know there were lots of drugs involved.   Tuesday night was the absolute worst night of my life.  I was in so much pain and I couldn't find the nurse call button.  I felt like all my joints were on fire.  It was truly excruciating.  I just cried and cried as loud as I could until someone finally heard me.  They brought me lots of painkillers.  It must have been mostly better by around 8 am, though, because I remember eating breakfast and then lunch.  That was the last meal I had until Saturday.

Sometime Wednesday they brought me back to 5C.  I slept through most of Wednesday, Thursday and part of Friday, all the while battling horrible headaches, nausea, vomiting and high fevers.  I think the highest it got was 104.2.  No one could figure out what was wrong, so I had a chest x-ray, a head CT, an abdominal CT, a whole lot of blood work, other tests I don't remember, and a nuclear medicine test on my lungs.  For that one, I had to breathe in radioactive gas for 3 minutes, and then they took pictures of my lungs.  Then they injected something radioactive (another praise- she hit the vein and didn't have to put in an IV), and took more pictures.  That is what finally clued them in to pneumonia.  They said it looked like I had ground glass in my lungs.  There were lots of little crystals throughout them.  So- there was answer #1.  With that, I will quit for tonight and give you part two of the story tomorrow. :)