* Just a TMI warning!!!! Everything surrounding my hospitalization and surgery is pretty gross, so if you don't want to know really inappropriate details about my body, I would stop reading!
The day after my surgery was a pretty good one, considering. Sky showed up first thing that morning bearing gifts and breakfast from McDonalds. Our day was spent watching silly TV and laughing and talking and napping. We even ordered a pizza! And since the nurses found out through unfortunate trial and error what pain medication worked best for me from the night before, they made sure to keep me pretty drugged up and happy through the day.
My nurses continued to poke me to draw blood every 6 hours, and kept an eye on my vital signs. Dr. Amaro still wasn't happy with my blood work numbers, so he decided that before discharging me the next day, that I would undergo another blood transfusion that evening.
I woke up the next morning in crazy amounts of pain, but very ready to go home. Sadly my evening nurse was not as free with the pain medication as my day nurse had been. But the blood transfusion and antibiotics had been administered without a hitch, and I was being sent home!
Sky packed up everything I had accumulated during my visit, I said good-bye to the people I had come to see as friends, and we were off!! But not before signing the paperwork that stated my hospital stay's total: $24,000. As I signed the paper, I laughed out loud!!! Because really, what else could I do?! I had a feeling that if I didn't acknowledge my disbelief aloud in some way, it would come out later as hysteria or sobs. So really, laughing seemed the best option. The woman who discharged me and had me sign the paper, looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Oh well.
The car ride and the car barge ride home were excruciating, but uneventful. I am beyond thankful that Sky had the foresight to ask my nurse, Denise, to drug me up right before leaving the hospital. Once we made it home Sky carried me in the house and to the bed. And here is where I've been since then. He has been amazing to me. He has cooked, cleaned, gone to work every day, made sure I've taken my medicine, and done everything in his power to keep my spirits up and make me laugh during this very painful, very slow recovery. And to my never-ending mortification he has also helped me bathe, go to the restroom, dress and everything in between.
It's hard to convey not only the amount of pain I was in, but also how HARD it has been to do everyday things that I've always taken for granted. Little things like laughing and coughing were impossible to do without causing myself incredible amounts of pain. Getting on and off the bed, even rolling onto my side or trying to sit up were impossible without Sky's help. So you can imagine why I would need help bathing, dressing, and even eating.
Today marks one week and one day since my surgery. I am still in a lot of pain, but moving around is getting easier. I can get off and on the bed by myself. I can stand up long enough for a shower or to get a bowl of cereal. I can pretty much dress myself now. And I can almost walk up and down the steps without help! I'm on my way to healing! I still have to move very slowly and carefully, but I'm getting there!
This experience is competing with my miscarriage and subsequent breakdown as the worse of my life. And since this is the SECOND time I've said this in the past six months, I am seriously hoping, wishing and praying that I won't have to reassign that label to anything else I experience for the rest of my days. But for now I am focusing on resting, healing, and staying in a good mental space, which is getting harder to do as the days go by. And that's what I've been up to for the past two and a half weeks!
So the morals to this story?!
*Have health insurance!!!!
*Go to the doctor when you don't feel well!!!!
*Eat plenty of fiber!!!!
Happy Thursday all!!
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
'Oscopies and Operations
* Just a TMI warning!!!! Everything surrounding my hospitalization and surgery is pretty gross, so if you don't want to know really inappropriate details about my body, I would stop reading!
Have I told you about my doctor yet? His name is Dr. Amaro. I was endlessly embarrassed by this entire situation because I found this man handsome and funny. And he smelled nice! How mortifying is it not only to have to be in a hospital gown, but also have to discuss pooping and your bottom with a handsome man?! Oh I could have died every time he walked in the room!
Anyway, after a couple of days, my blood pressure and hemoglobin levels weren't stellar, but they were steady. Dr. Amaro thought it was time to pinpoint what what causing the bleeding and from where. He referred me to a surgeon, Dr. Commissiong to preform several exploratory procedures and a surgery, if necessary.
My nurses gave me two bottles of cherry flavored saline to drink that would clean out my intestines and colon in order to prepare for the procedures. The doctor explained that I would be undergoing two 'oscopies: a sigmoidoscopy and a colonosopy. The sigmoidoscopy would let the doctors examine the inside of my rectum and the beginning of my colon. The colonoscopy would let them see the entire length of my colon to determine where the bleeding was coming from. I have to be honest: I was scared! One of my only questions was whether they would put me under and they assured me that they would.
At what the nurses called "pre-op" they asked a long list of standard questions about my health and history. They ran a pregnancy test (very negative, by the way) and checked my vital signs. As the nurse listened to my heart and lungs, she remarked that she thought I said I didn't have heart or lung problems. I replied that I didn't, to my knowledge. That's when she told me that I have a heart murmur. I was surprised and I told her so.
The next thing I remember, I woke up to the sound of my own crying. I vaguely remember hearing a nurse tell me that Sky was on his way and would be waiting in my room for me when they were ready to release me from the Recovery room. The rest of the evening went by in a fog. I can remember looking up at Sky, then waking up again to my dinner tray being brought in, then again the next morning at 6am. Whatever they put me under with was fantastic!
The morning after my 'oscopies my doctor and surgeon came to explain what they found. I had several lesions and lacerations in my rectum and colon and they were hemorrhaging. They would need to do surgery to repair the problem. They told me they had an OR booked for me that morning.
At pre-op I signed my life away via consent forms to the anesthesiologist and my surgeon. I answered another long list of questions, the nurse gave me something to "calm my nerves" and I was out like a light!
Again I woke up to myself crying hysterically. Apparently being sedated makes me weepy. Waking up from anesthesia is such an odd experience! I felt as if I was hearing and seeing things as I was walking through a tunnel. The closer I got to the opening the more I could hear and see. At first I was shocked wondering who was making all that noise! Then I slowly realized that was me screaming and crying! I was so confused. I remember thinking to myself that I wasn't particularly sad. So why would I be crying? It's still strange to remember.
That afternoon and evening was a really rough one. After a couple of hours post-op, the anesthesia started wearing off. I was in more pain than I had ever felt in my entire life, and that's saying A LOT seeing as I just had a nightmare of a miscarriage owing to an overdose of Cytotec. But this pain is something I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy. It was excruciating!!!! It hurt so badly that even after three doses of morphine and a Loratab, I was still crying and screaming in pain. I begged the nurses for something stronger or something to knock me out. I just couldn't take it anymore! I cried so much that I lost my voice and broke a blood vessel in my eye. I don't have the words to describe the amount of pain I was in.
Unfortunately I still had more to look forward to at the hospital. But for the moment I was happy at least to have the problem figure out and fixed...
Have I told you about my doctor yet? His name is Dr. Amaro. I was endlessly embarrassed by this entire situation because I found this man handsome and funny. And he smelled nice! How mortifying is it not only to have to be in a hospital gown, but also have to discuss pooping and your bottom with a handsome man?! Oh I could have died every time he walked in the room!
Anyway, after a couple of days, my blood pressure and hemoglobin levels weren't stellar, but they were steady. Dr. Amaro thought it was time to pinpoint what what causing the bleeding and from where. He referred me to a surgeon, Dr. Commissiong to preform several exploratory procedures and a surgery, if necessary.
My nurses gave me two bottles of cherry flavored saline to drink that would clean out my intestines and colon in order to prepare for the procedures. The doctor explained that I would be undergoing two 'oscopies: a sigmoidoscopy and a colonosopy. The sigmoidoscopy would let the doctors examine the inside of my rectum and the beginning of my colon. The colonoscopy would let them see the entire length of my colon to determine where the bleeding was coming from. I have to be honest: I was scared! One of my only questions was whether they would put me under and they assured me that they would.
At what the nurses called "pre-op" they asked a long list of standard questions about my health and history. They ran a pregnancy test (very negative, by the way) and checked my vital signs. As the nurse listened to my heart and lungs, she remarked that she thought I said I didn't have heart or lung problems. I replied that I didn't, to my knowledge. That's when she told me that I have a heart murmur. I was surprised and I told her so.
The next thing I remember, I woke up to the sound of my own crying. I vaguely remember hearing a nurse tell me that Sky was on his way and would be waiting in my room for me when they were ready to release me from the Recovery room. The rest of the evening went by in a fog. I can remember looking up at Sky, then waking up again to my dinner tray being brought in, then again the next morning at 6am. Whatever they put me under with was fantastic!
The morning after my 'oscopies my doctor and surgeon came to explain what they found. I had several lesions and lacerations in my rectum and colon and they were hemorrhaging. They would need to do surgery to repair the problem. They told me they had an OR booked for me that morning.
At pre-op I signed my life away via consent forms to the anesthesiologist and my surgeon. I answered another long list of questions, the nurse gave me something to "calm my nerves" and I was out like a light!
Again I woke up to myself crying hysterically. Apparently being sedated makes me weepy. Waking up from anesthesia is such an odd experience! I felt as if I was hearing and seeing things as I was walking through a tunnel. The closer I got to the opening the more I could hear and see. At first I was shocked wondering who was making all that noise! Then I slowly realized that was me screaming and crying! I was so confused. I remember thinking to myself that I wasn't particularly sad. So why would I be crying? It's still strange to remember.
That afternoon and evening was a really rough one. After a couple of hours post-op, the anesthesia started wearing off. I was in more pain than I had ever felt in my entire life, and that's saying A LOT seeing as I just had a nightmare of a miscarriage owing to an overdose of Cytotec. But this pain is something I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy. It was excruciating!!!! It hurt so badly that even after three doses of morphine and a Loratab, I was still crying and screaming in pain. I begged the nurses for something stronger or something to knock me out. I just couldn't take it anymore! I cried so much that I lost my voice and broke a blood vessel in my eye. I don't have the words to describe the amount of pain I was in.
Unfortunately I still had more to look forward to at the hospital. But for the moment I was happy at least to have the problem figure out and fixed...
Monday, March 21, 2011
Stabilize
* Just a TMI warning!!!! Everything surrounding my hospitalization and surgery is pretty gross, so if you don't want to know really inappropriate details about my body, I would stop reading!
Hands down, hearing the words "bleeding to death" and "blood transfusion" aimed at me was the scariest moment of my life. I didn't know much about getting a blood transfusion. My mind raced trying to remember anything and everything I could about it, but I was coming up blank. When I was younger I was an avid blood donor. Between the ages of 18 and 23 I donated more than 12 times. I knew plenty about donating, but nothing about receiving. All I felt was panic. Was it safe? What would happen if I declined? Could I decline? Were there any other options? What were the cons? Did the benefits outweigh the possible risks? After asking as many questions as I could think of I did the only thing I could in that situation: I consented to a blood transfusion.
I was hooked up to an IV and given saline and a pain reliever. They loaded me into an ambulance and took me to the Custom's dock where a private water taxi was waiting for me. And off we went to St Thomas.
In the ER of Roy Lester Schneider Hospital they took my vital signs and another round of blood work. They explained to me that the normal range of hemoglobin for a female my age is between 12.1 and 16.1. My hemoglobin levels were at 6.4. I had lost almost half of my blood over the course of 5 days. They also told me that normal blood pressure is in the range of 120/80. My blood pressure at the time was 84/46. I was in dire need of a transfusion right away. They started a second IV in my arm and started the transfusion process. I received three bags of blood over the course of six hours. They checked my temperature, blood pressure and pulse every 15 minutes during the transfusion to make sure my body wasn't having an adverse reaction to the blood.
I didn't get much sleep that night. I was tired and uncomfortable and scared. But looking back on it, that was the easy part. They admitted me into the hospital to observe me to make sure that my hemoglobin levels and blood pressure stabilized over the next few days. They drew blood every 4 to 6 hours and took my vitals sign every other hour for the first couple of days of my stay. Meanwhile they kept antibiotics, saline and pain relievers flowing through the two IV sites in my arms. I remember looking down at the six hospital bands, two IVs and the countless band-aids from the needles pricks on my arms and feeling frustrated and disbelieving that I was living this. On top of that my IV sites would become painful and sore, and my veins would become inflamed so the nurses would have to find new sites for the IVs. My arms took a lot of abuse that week and I think it'll be some time before all the scars and marks finally fade.
At that point I was still bleeding when I went to the bathroom. But the doctors were adamant that they needed to get me stabilized and stronger before they could figure out what was wrong and from where I was bleeding. All I knew was that I was sick of hurting, sick of being in the hospital, sick of being poked and prodded, and more than ready to go home. Unfortunately that was still a few days away...
Hands down, hearing the words "bleeding to death" and "blood transfusion" aimed at me was the scariest moment of my life. I didn't know much about getting a blood transfusion. My mind raced trying to remember anything and everything I could about it, but I was coming up blank. When I was younger I was an avid blood donor. Between the ages of 18 and 23 I donated more than 12 times. I knew plenty about donating, but nothing about receiving. All I felt was panic. Was it safe? What would happen if I declined? Could I decline? Were there any other options? What were the cons? Did the benefits outweigh the possible risks? After asking as many questions as I could think of I did the only thing I could in that situation: I consented to a blood transfusion.
I was hooked up to an IV and given saline and a pain reliever. They loaded me into an ambulance and took me to the Custom's dock where a private water taxi was waiting for me. And off we went to St Thomas.
In the ER of Roy Lester Schneider Hospital they took my vital signs and another round of blood work. They explained to me that the normal range of hemoglobin for a female my age is between 12.1 and 16.1. My hemoglobin levels were at 6.4. I had lost almost half of my blood over the course of 5 days. They also told me that normal blood pressure is in the range of 120/80. My blood pressure at the time was 84/46. I was in dire need of a transfusion right away. They started a second IV in my arm and started the transfusion process. I received three bags of blood over the course of six hours. They checked my temperature, blood pressure and pulse every 15 minutes during the transfusion to make sure my body wasn't having an adverse reaction to the blood.
I didn't get much sleep that night. I was tired and uncomfortable and scared. But looking back on it, that was the easy part. They admitted me into the hospital to observe me to make sure that my hemoglobin levels and blood pressure stabilized over the next few days. They drew blood every 4 to 6 hours and took my vitals sign every other hour for the first couple of days of my stay. Meanwhile they kept antibiotics, saline and pain relievers flowing through the two IV sites in my arms. I remember looking down at the six hospital bands, two IVs and the countless band-aids from the needles pricks on my arms and feeling frustrated and disbelieving that I was living this. On top of that my IV sites would become painful and sore, and my veins would become inflamed so the nurses would have to find new sites for the IVs. My arms took a lot of abuse that week and I think it'll be some time before all the scars and marks finally fade.
At that point I was still bleeding when I went to the bathroom. But the doctors were adamant that they needed to get me stabilized and stronger before they could figure out what was wrong and from where I was bleeding. All I knew was that I was sick of hurting, sick of being in the hospital, sick of being poked and prodded, and more than ready to go home. Unfortunately that was still a few days away...
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Mental Health
I just got off the phone with the health center here. I have two appointments next week: One with a doctor just as a general check-up and assessment of my symptoms of depression and to re-evaluate my need for medication. I'm not sure how it will go, but I feel tons better since starting on Zoloft. And my anxiety is nearly non-existent! There doesn't seem to be any awful side effects so I'm assuming everything will stay the same with that. I am still having trouble sleeping, so hopefully they will prescribe something new for that since the Trazadone was a huge fail.
The other appointment I made was with a therapist on St Thomas. Now that one I'm a little nervous about. I dread rehashing my story to someone new. But I do think it's important, and necessary, for me to get back into therapy. Cross your fingers for me. Let's hope it all goes well.
The other appointment I made was with a therapist on St Thomas. Now that one I'm a little nervous about. I dread rehashing my story to someone new. But I do think it's important, and necessary, for me to get back into therapy. Cross your fingers for me. Let's hope it all goes well.
Monday, December 6, 2010
I've Got the Blues
*The opinions and thoughts expressed here are in NO way meant to be taken as medical advice or suggestions. I am in NO way a medical professional and I am NOT offering health advice nor am I qualified to. I am merely sharing my personal story without the intention of causing anyone to self-diagnose or medicate, etc.
So this is probably one of those posts that Sky would cringe at because again I'm "sharing too much". But throughout this entire ordeal I have felt so utterly and completely ALONE and so very misunderstood. And if there is ever anyone who might happen to read this and feel a little less alone, or isolated then over-sharing is totally worth it.
Everyone knows that the last few months have been so hard on me. I'm sure some people look at my Facebook page or status updates and think "Enough already Debbie Downer!". But there is a reason that I haven't been able to shake these blues and the tears and sadness. I was recently told that I am suffering from Depression and Anxiety. This was such a relief to be told that what I'm feeling and going through isn't my failure to readjust, but my body's. For the longest time I wondered why I just couldn't pick myself back up and make myself be happier as I've done in the past with disappointment, failures and heartache. And I've been told by very well meaning family and friends to get over it and move in with my life. But the truth is this isn't something you can just "shake off". This is something that needs attention, time, work and occasionally medication (in my case) in order to make it better and manageable.
So I'm seeing a doctor and a therapist. If you or someone you know is going through this, make sure they seek professional help. This is not something you can diagnose or treat yourself and something you definitely shouldn't ignore. But for some reason I've found that this is such a taboo topic to openly discuss with people. That's why I'm being so forthcoming about everything. I think if I would have know how many people I personally know who suffer from this, I wouldn't have felt so "crazy" or alone or like I was being a wimp who couldn't deal with life.
I know I have a way to go before I feel like I'll be my old self again, but at least I'm on the right path to getting back there. Now I know what's wrong and I can start working toward fixing it. I'm feeling so hopefully about things now, and it will only get better from here!! I can truly feel it:)
More information I found helpful:
The Mayo Clinic
WebMD
If anyone else has dealt with these issues, please feel free to email me or comment. It is so comforting to hear other's stories!!
So this is probably one of those posts that Sky would cringe at because again I'm "sharing too much". But throughout this entire ordeal I have felt so utterly and completely ALONE and so very misunderstood. And if there is ever anyone who might happen to read this and feel a little less alone, or isolated then over-sharing is totally worth it.
Everyone knows that the last few months have been so hard on me. I'm sure some people look at my Facebook page or status updates and think "Enough already Debbie Downer!". But there is a reason that I haven't been able to shake these blues and the tears and sadness. I was recently told that I am suffering from Depression and Anxiety. This was such a relief to be told that what I'm feeling and going through isn't my failure to readjust, but my body's. For the longest time I wondered why I just couldn't pick myself back up and make myself be happier as I've done in the past with disappointment, failures and heartache. And I've been told by very well meaning family and friends to get over it and move in with my life. But the truth is this isn't something you can just "shake off". This is something that needs attention, time, work and occasionally medication (in my case) in order to make it better and manageable.
So I'm seeing a doctor and a therapist. If you or someone you know is going through this, make sure they seek professional help. This is not something you can diagnose or treat yourself and something you definitely shouldn't ignore. But for some reason I've found that this is such a taboo topic to openly discuss with people. That's why I'm being so forthcoming about everything. I think if I would have know how many people I personally know who suffer from this, I wouldn't have felt so "crazy" or alone or like I was being a wimp who couldn't deal with life.
I know I have a way to go before I feel like I'll be my old self again, but at least I'm on the right path to getting back there. Now I know what's wrong and I can start working toward fixing it. I'm feeling so hopefully about things now, and it will only get better from here!! I can truly feel it:)
More information I found helpful:
The Mayo Clinic
WebMD
If anyone else has dealt with these issues, please feel free to email me or comment. It is so comforting to hear other's stories!!
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