It's January, 2012. I have been admitted to the cardiac floor and started on a blood thinner for a blood clot in my lower right leg after a fall at work. Because of my history of being a neuro ICU nurse, I am being all dramatic. There is no convincing me I am not going to die of a stroke! The blood thinner is going to make my blood too thin or the clot is going to break off and go to my brain. I just knew it.
Perry and I had called a small truce the first night I was in the hospital. I think everyone sensed I was scared. I was not used to being sick at all. I was in great shape. I ran all the time. I worked out constantly. Thankfully, I knew my admitting physician well. He had completed his residency at Carraway and I had "trained" him to be a good dr.
After my first night on bedrest, the attending MD came in. He said my labs showed my blood was thin enough for me to have bathroom privileges. I was so relieved! No more bedpan! Also, no more worries of a clot causing me to have a stroke. After doc made a few jokes about how there should be a Saint Perry, he left and told me I would be going home the following day. A few minutes later, I make my first trip to the restroom.
My leg was so much better! I walked to the restroom without any difficulty, used the potty, washed my hands, and brushed my teeth. No problem right? WRONG! As I was walking back, I was about halfway between the restroom and the bed, when all of the sudden I feel an intense crushing pain in my chest. I felt like an elephant stepped on me. I can't breathe. I can't talk. I can't move. Perry said I turned a grayish blue color that wasn't very flattering. The rest is kind of blurry but I know he ran to get help as I slumped over the recliner in the room. My fear of throwing the clots came true. I just didn't throw them to my brain. I threw multiple clots to both of my lungs (Bilateral PTE's - pulmonary thromboemboli). So much for going home the next day, or for going back to work anytime soon.
I stayed in the hospital for a week or so. I went home on coumadin which is a blood thinner from hell! It literally is rat poison. I had seriously never felt worse. I couldn't breathe. I was exhausted. I couldn't walk across a room and say a complete sentence. It was baffling at how sick I had gotten so quickly.
The problems kept escalating! My co-workers were required to do mandatory overtime because I was still out. They were certainly not happy about being required to pick up my slack. Perry was working and doing everything at the house and with the boys. He was VERY irritable. In retrospect, he didn't understand how sick I was. He thought I was just being lazy and a bigger princess than normal. He actually told me, "I don't ever want to hear you say that you don't feel good ever again". He was honestly clueless at how short of breath I was. He had no idea how bad the coumadin made my head hurt. He had no concept of what little energy I had, if I had any at all. All of this turmoil and the rapid physical decline in my health affected my mental state severely. I was tired of staying in the bed feeling bad. I started taking ambien every chance I had so I could just sleep through it all.
February came and went without much improvement. In the beginning of March, I went to one of my scheduled primary (internal medicine) physician appointments. I was still seeing the workers comp MD and my primary physician. During this visit, my primary was very concerned about me. My oxygen saturation was remaining in the 80's. Normal is above 90% and usually higher depending on age and history. My MD decided to re-admit me and do a pulmonary and cardiac work-up to see why I had not recovered from the PTE's. I was admitted to Brookwood again. Cardiology and Pulmonary were consulted. I had diagnosed asthma prior to this, but I only had issues with extreme temperatures - extreme cold or extreme heat and humidity. The pulmonary studies didn't show my asthma worsening. Vascular surgery was consulted. A small filter was placed in my inferior vena cava (IVC filter) to catch any additional clots that might travel to my lungs. Clotting studies were performed. I was found not to have any clotting diseases. Cardiology was my last consult.
The cardiologist was very thorough and explained everything very well. My friend Kay was working in the cath lab, so I felt at ease having any procedure performed there. I knew everyone who worked there. They all knew I was a VIP because I was Kay's non-biological sister. Also, they had all worked at Carraway prior to working at Brookwood. The initial plan was to perform a right sided heart cath to ensure the PTE's didn't cause any damage to the right side of my heart when they traveled through to my lungs. After receiving some lab results and reviewing my medical history, the cardiologist and I decided to do a left and right heart cath to fully evaluate my heart. This was a decision that would almost cost me my life short term, but help to save it long term.
The charge nurse in the cath lab wouldn't allow Kay to be my nurse. She was afraid if something went south, Kay would be too emotional to focus. She was probably correct. The charge nurse took care of me. I don't remember even going into the cath lab. I was treated generously with the sedation and given what we call a 'nurses dose'. I was scheduled on a Monday and didn't return back to my room until late Monday evening.
All day Tuesday, I told the nurses I was dying. My back hurt so badly! I couldn't move! Now, normally I am a nurses biggest advocate but here, I'm going to tell it like it is. These nurses were shit! They were blatantly arguing with me. My blood pressure was in the 70's. I asked for the supervisor. The supervisor came in and the nurse taking care of me sarcastically described me as 'Ms. Scasbo, a flight nurse who is worried about her blood pressure'. The supervisor and my nurse both explained to me in a condescending tone, my blood pressure was low because I had been asking for my pain medicine so often. They both gave me a dissertation on how morphine will drop your blood pressure. I told them in some not so nice words to get out after they said they would withhold the morphine if I was concerned about my blood pressure.
Tuesday night at approximately 8pm, Kay came to see me. She had worked all day and had not had a chance to visit yet. When she walked in, her first words were, "You look like shit". I told her about my experience. She paged the cardiac nurse practitioner. I also knew him from Carraway. He came to my room and agreed with Kay. He ordered an ultrasound of my groin to be done stat with the results to be called to the physician on call. The ultrasound was performed. I went back to my room and made it through the night by the grace of God. I'm still not sure what happened and why the results of the ultrasound weren't called. All I know is bright and early Wednesday morning, the vascular surgeon who had placed my IVC filter was at my bedside talking fast. I was being sent to cat scan. If the bleed wasn't too bad, they could plug it. If it was too severe to be plugged, I would have to go to emergency surgery. I needed to sign consents for surgery and to receive blood products.
I went from cat scan directly to surgery. I had a retroperitoneal hematoma. Basically, when the cardiologist did my heart cath, I bled from the back of my femoral artery into my abdomen, back, and pelvis. This is why I was having such bad back pain requiring the frequent morphine. This is why my blood pressure was so low. I was bleeding out! It had nothing to do with the morphine. If I could've moved, I would've kicked a nurses and supervisors ass! I was livid! I received multiple blood products and now have a lovely scar. If any of you reading this are nurses (or are involved in any patient care) .....listen to your patients! As you can see below, my abdomen and groin were very swollen. There was a lot of bruising in some very tender areas as well! The puncture hole you see on my leg is where my drains had been removed.
OK, rant over and back to my story. After I knew I was going to live from my heart cath, I talked to the cardiologist and found out the reason I had been so decompensated after the PTE's. I had a congenital heart defect. I had a bicuspid aortic valve. On most people, the aortic valve has three leaflets (think mercedes benz symbol). It is located between the left ventricle and the aorta. The aorta is an artery that is responsible for transporting oxygenated blood to the rest of your body. My aortic valve only had two leaflets. I had never noticed any deficits because I had been so healthy. Once I became decompensated, my heart defect showed up. I had aortic stenosis (the valve gets stiff ) and aortic regurg (the valve is very leaky and allows blood to backflow and mix with the unoxygenated blood). Now that the problem was identified, I started physical therapy to start increasing my energy levels and try to build up my strength again. The workers comp doctor had ordered 12 weeks of physical therapy. I was scheduled to return to work at Lifesaver in mid July. I was told then I would require a valve replacement, but it would be 20-30 years later.
I was still battling some mental health issues because of my physical health, but I was on the downhill swing of things. I was getting stronger. I was feeling better physically which made me better mentally. The more I did physically, the better things were between Perry and myself. I was starting to get out and do small trips with my boys as I felt I could. Sam and I were starting to tour colleges. Maybe we were all going to make it after all.
I didn't know you went through so much! I'm so sorry for all the pain you went through but I know it has made you the wonderful person you are today.
Living with my mental illness (borderline personality disorder) has been horrible. Some people will never know how much pain I have gone through and how I've struggled
All that matters now is the relationship I have with God and connecting with Him. He tells me what to say or what to do.
I'm so glad you have your family and their support. I wish Amanda was in my life! I miss Emily so much! But I have to keep moving and praying that if it's God's will, He w…