Friday, January 30, 2015

A time bomb in my Chest

It began like any normal day, waking up to pain. Having plantar fasciitis I'm used to this sort of thing. However instead of my foot hurting it was my leg. The bakers cyst leg. I joked with the boyfriend that I had a blood clot. Okay so not so much a joke. Obviously that's not something to joke about so, let's just say I made an offhand comment. Anyway, I was also in the beginning of a cold so I popped an Aleve and followed it with a shot of DayQuil. I want to first side note this by saying that I DO NOT ADVISE anyone to copy that. It was horrible behavior and a really stupid idea. Off we went in the car, nice stop at Wawa for fattening and delicious breakfast items and coffee. 

Cut to the boyfriend's parent's house. He left with his Father to pick up the truck his dad had just purchased that needed to be towed. I stayed behind. Little did I know...

His younger sister was home as well and we proceeded to watch crappy movies and bad television while talking about nothing and everything. I went to the bathroom and on my way back to the living room which is past the kitchen I lost my breath. Sitting at the table with my head in my hands I felt as though I were having a panic attack. His sister thought it was that as well. However my panic attacks generally come with a sense of sadness or dread and I could feel no reason for this attack. 

His sister gave me apple sauce and a glass of cold water with a straw. She told me it's what her mom does for her when she has a panic attack and just to relax and breathe. She placed a wet hand towel on my neck and I started to feel better. Text from the boyfriend revealed that they were on their way home. He asked if we wanted to go for lunch and knowing that his sister wanted to I said sure.

Feeling up to it we put everything to the side and headed out the front door both convinced that the fresh air would do me good. My body felt like I had been drenched in icy hot though and I was worried that my stupidity of taking an Alieve and DayQuil was the culprit. 

Walking to the van from the front door, maybe 30 steps, wore me out. I semi collapsed into the passenger seat and told his sister I wasn't going to be able to make lunch. I felt dizzy, I felt light headed, but mostly I felt paroidnoid that I wouldn't ever catch a full breath again. I closed my eyes and dreamt for a moment. When I opened them I could feel tears in my eyes and his sister was telling me that everything was alright and to stay with her. That I was safe and she wouldn't allow anything to happen to me but that I couldn't fall asleep.

I felt tired, almost drunk with it. She was shaking, clearly scared. I pat her arm and told her everything would be alright but even doing so felt fuzzy. As though I were half asleep. I can't even say if my eyes were mostly open or mostly closed. The boyfriend came and told me he was taking me to the hospital. I had just got my barings and really didn't want to make the walk to his car. I honestly didn't think I would make it but I steeled myself and drunkenly walked out of the van and leaning on him for support made it to his car. He drove me to the hospital which I honestly don't recall much of at all. 

When we arrived, around 2pm, he sat me on a nice cold bench while he went to park the car not wanting me to have to walk back. When he returned I was sitting, breathing deeply to try and grab a full breath. He told me we had to walk to the door, maybe 20 or so steps. Looking toward it I knew I wouldn't make it and told him so. He convinced me it wasn't that far and we went walking. When we got in I semi collapsed again into a waiting area seat while he went to talk to the desk. Someone came over to me with a wheelchair. I can't remember if it was him or someone working for the hospital but that wheelchair was the best feeling. Not having to walk I was able to catch my breath and wits enough to come back to society and answer some questions.

They wheeled me around to a bed, an IV and a pretty paper thin gown to wear. The doctor spoke to me and then I was taken for a lung x-ray, leg sonogram, and a chest x-ray. When I got back after a while of waiting the doctor came to speak to us again. That was around 7pm.

He told us that there was a high probability of a blood clot in my lungs and that he wanted to admit me. Knowing I wasn't from New Jersey he said I could travel back to New York to go to a hospital there but that he honestly didn't think it was wise to travel.

I cried, mostly I think from shock, but I was admitted. I had to call my poor mother who was of course home in NY and doesn't drive. She began to worry the moment I told her. Sitting in my wheel chair with the best possible boyfriend sitting watch, I waited. They came by and took blood from my artery, one of the most painful shots I have ever had, to make sure I had enough oxygen in my blood. I asked if I could eat and they said they would supply me with something so the boyfriend went off for his own sustinence. They gave me a ham sandwich when all I really wanted was a banana but I ate half anyway. When he returned he had things for me to snack on as well as some stuff to entertain myself with. Though I didn't touch either. 

The tv in the waiting room blathered with reports of things in the News I rather have not listened to and he tried to take my mind of things by joking with me to pass the time.

We waited forever for a bed. They moved me back to the first bed I had been seen in originally so I could stretch out and they hooked me up with an IV drip and heart monitors. I had only had half of my sandwich but it came back up with a vengeance. The boyfriend went to get me something to puke in and all they gave him was this small kidney bowl. Then after filling said bowl I said I needed something more and he went to get that for me as well. He then stood there full kidney bowl in hand like the best trooper I could never imagine. 

They gave me something for the nausea in my IV and thankfully I didn't repeat the action all night. They moved me and my bed to a hallway with curtains for walls and many more beds. By the time I got a room it was 11pm. The amazing boyfriend he was, knowing he had work the following day, after having spent his one day off with me in a hospital practically all day, still waited until I fell asleep before sneaking out to go home. Even after I had told him to leave ealier knowing he wasn't going to get much sleep, the few hours he had between getting home and having to wake in the morning.

His mom brought my mom to the hospital the following day, my dad came to see how I was and my aunt and uncle showed up to see how I was doing as  well. By the end of night two I was still spending it in the hospital. 

Day three my nurse said she wanted me out of the bed and walking to the bathroom and sitting up in a chair. Which honestly, after so much bed rest was quite a relef. Then they brought me to my CAT scan around noon. At 3pm the pulmonlogoist came to tell my mom and I that I had multiple pulmonary embolisms. Basically more then one blood clot in not one, but both of my lungs. They had me on blood thinners in the hospital, lovenox,  but he said I would need to continue them outside the hospital as well but that I could go home. He said I would have to follow up with a pulmonlogoist or a hematologist in NY.

Apperently he wasn't the one who needed to clear me though so it wasn't until 9pm that I was officially discharged. 

Now however I am home, two weeks out of work and still waiting to get an appointment with a hematologist. I feel pretty good except I'm getting really tired of people asking me how I'm feeling and it is at times really kind of scary to think that had I not gone to the hospital I could have possibly had a much worse outcome. It is also scary to think that I have these tiny time bombs in my chest that I now have to worry about until I get cleared and told otherwise. 

The cause of them could be my birth control which I had been on for 10 years before obviously discontinuing use of recently. Or it could have been that the bakers cyst was misdiagnosed and I actually had a deep vein thrombosis. I won't know until the doctor sees me. 

For now though I just have to take it easy and not lift anything heavy or run or drink or do anything too strenuous. I'll be very relieved when I know what caused this and what I can do to get back to living my life fully. 
x