Last Full Day in the Hospital

With the trauma of my last IV placement over, I could concentrate on rest and therapy as I prepared to leave the hospital. Dan and I had discussed our options with the doctors, and all parties involved believed that Mary Free Bed was the best place for me for the next phase of recovery.

To recap, I had awoken from a medically induced coma about 3 days ago. “Waking up” is a gradual process which is why I had all the crazy dreams and hallucinations. I have no movement on the left side of my body and little to no sensation. If the nurse inflicted pain on my toes, I could feel a very distant, light pin-prick. I was doing physical, occupational therapy from in-hospital staff. The sessions were about 20-30 minutes long, and I was exhausted after each one.

Since I was not able to walk or even sit up on my own yet, I needed to go to an in-patient rehabilitation program with full time nurse care. At this point, my surgeon has no idea what if any feeling and/or movement will return. The brain is a very complex organ, and when it has undergone this type of trauma, it is not easy to predict how much it will recover.

During my waking up process, my mom shared with me that there was a girl with an AVM also in the hospital. She was in critical condition as her AVM did not stop bleeding on it’s own and the healing process was hampered due to seizures.

Even though I did not want to do anything except lay in bed, I want to go encourage her. I will never forget the feeling of going into that hospital room with that sweet girl in the bed. Tears welled in my eyes as I took her hand and began to read her a passage from Psalms 139:

For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be.

This passage, along with many other psalms, had brought great comfort to Dan and me in the weeks leading up to surgery. They say you can hear when you are in a coma, and if that’s true, I wanted to try to bring some comfort to her.

It is deeply comforting to me to know that not only is God in control of how my body was created, but he did it on purpose. He knew I’d be going through this time in the hospital of pain and uncertainty about the future when I was still in my mom’s womb.

Of all the things that have run through my mind through this experience, the one thing that keeps coming back is that God spared me for a reason. I am his vessel, and I want him to use me for his glory. I don’t know if my story can bring someone else comfort or bring them closer to Jesus, but I hope with all my heart that it can.

Aside finished, I read that passage to Brenna through thick tears. I told her to keep fighting, and that she could do it!

It was an emotion filled afternoon. Fast forward to today; Brenna has not recovered like I have. If you have a minute, please send up a prayer on her behalf.

Next up for me is to remove the staples from my head and go to Mary Free Bed tomorrow, Friday, December 11.

The Day in Which I Lose It

You may recall from earlier in this process me explaining my hatred for all things medical, doctor, blood, needle-related. I also have described the perfect peace I was in through the whole ordeal. I believe now more than ever that God’s strength is made perfect in my weakness.

In the effort to keep this chronicle as real-to-life as possible, my faith faltered, and I lost it on Thursday, December 10.

1. Since I could not walk yet, I had to get heparin shots every 8 hours to prevent blood clots. These are the worst shots I have ever had. I have a little experience now to add some weight to that statement. They are the worst.

2. I am still in the hospital so I must have an open IV port until I leave. December 10 is day three of my every third cycle. Even though I’m leaving the next day, I have to get it replaced.

3. The current location of my IV is my right hand. They used a very small IV, and it wasn’t put in very well. So it is constantly getting kinked. The nurse keeps messing with it, bending it, putting more tape on, more fiddling with it, etc. Now this site is bruised and painful.

I decide that I cannot take the painful IV port any more. I want it moved now since it will have to be done sooner or later anyway. I ask for an experienced nurse as they always have trouble with my thick skin and small veins.

It takes FOREVER to find an experienced nurse which gave me plenty of time to get myself all anxious inside.

I ask for my face to be covered, and they begin the procedure of removing the old and putting the new in.

“Experienced Nurse”: Ok, I’ve got a good vein. Are you ready?

Nod.

 “Experienced Nurse”: Ok, Big poke.

I brace myself.

BIG poke, I start to cry.

“Experienced Nurse”: Oh no.

I start to sob. She blew the vein. She’s going to have to start over in another spot.

“Experienced Nurse”: It’s ok, honey. I think we can still use this one.

Baloney. I’m pretty much hysterical at this point. I cannot stop crying.

“Experienced Nurse”: It’s fine now. The IV is in. We don’t have to poke you again.

They uncover my head as I’m still sobbing. My mom is wiping my face with a wash cloth to cool me off and try to get me to cool down. Then walks in my nurse with my next heparin shot.

If I wasn’t a basket-case before, I am now.

She wisely says we have some more time, she’ll come back later. Smart lady. I think they would have had to use restraints to get that shot in me at that moment.  

Next Step: In-Patient Therapy

My healing is progressing nicely. I continue to have speech, occupational, and physical therapy twice a day. Dr. F. says I can leave the hospital. Yay! I’m not walking yet, and have no movement in my toes, arms, or hand, so they recommend in-patient therapy either at Mary Free Bed or Spectrum Continuing Care. We’ve heard great things about MFB, so we choose to go there.

I’m no longer in need of the ICU facilities so they put my name in for a regular room. The hospital is full though so I have to wait it out in the ICU. Darn!

The hospital gets us all set up to go to MFB. They request a private room for me (Praise the Lord!), but MFB is very full too, so we don’t know if I’ll get one.

All the plans are set. I’m going to MFB on December 11. I had been admitted to the hospital on November 14, 28 days prior.

Real Food, part II

Now, it all seemed fine and dandy: I was able to eat again so life is good, right? Well, not quite. I still had the feeding tube in because they were concerned that I wouldn’t get enough calories. But I can’t eat a full meal because the formula from the feeding tube is filling my stomach. So we got to go one way or the other right?

Now I’m not sure how this worked. I think they left the feeding tube in, but shut it off so that if I wasn’t eating enough, they could turn it back on easily and quickly.

Wouldn’t you guess it? I wasn’t eating enough. It isn’t that I wasn’t trying. It’s just that hospital food is disgusting! Truly, ask my family. To boost the calorie intake, they brought me a protein shake between meals, three times a day. Protein shakes are good the first few times and then…

So I have this problem with bad food, I just can’t eat it. I’ve been like that all my life. I like my homecooked food. The hospital food was so far from anything good it wasn’t funny. Now several times a day I’m being threatened with the feeding tube if I don’t up my calorie intake.

Prior to surgery Dan would always finish my meals for me because they gave way too much food and that way Dan didn’t have to leave to buy food. Now the nurses are food Nazis. We have to show or list how much of each meal I ate, and how much Dan ate.

I’ve never counted calories in my life, but at every meal, I’d have my mom or Dan estimate how much of the food I needed to eat to fulfill my requirement. It was so hard. I never would have thought that being required to eat more could ever be a bad thing.

Real Food

Food was a big dilemma in the hospital. I was still on a feeding tube as they were very concerned about getting the proper number of calories in me to get my body working on healing. I had an evaluation with the speech therapists to see if I could handle soft food and liquids.

Did you know you can still eat when you have a feeding tube in?? You can! I had no idea. I kind of thought my throat was totally filled with the tube. It’s not.

Anyway, because of the semi-paralysis on the left side, the doctors aren’t sure I can swallow or chew. So the speech therapist brings in a variety of things to try. I ate itty-bitty bits of crackers, applesauce, and jello. Oh man, solid food is SOOOOOOO good! I couldn’t eat very much because the feeding tube keeps the stomach pretty full, but I was loving my first meal.

Liquids are another story. Did you know that “normal” liquids: water, juice, milk, can choke people if their esophagus isn’t working quite right? Who knew? Not me, that’s for sure. Due to this potential hazard, I was on thickened liquids to start.

The juices are like drinking partially solidified jello. That’s pretty tasty. Thickened water and milk, on the other hand, are not. It’s nasty, nastiness. It doesn’t help that the milk isn’t really milk, but they stir in cornstarch or something to thicken it. I guess the flavor really isn’t that different, but texture makes a big difference.

I pass my evaluation which allows me to eat real food. Yay!

Physical Therapy

There is a white board in every hospital room that tells the date, nurse on duty, diet, husband’s name, and goals for the patient. My goal after coming out of the coma was to sit up in a stretcher chair. The chair is called such because it can lay totally flat so the nurses can lay you in it, then they slowly sit you up.

I needed to use this char because I couldn’t stand or walk yet. Physical therapy hadn’t started yet, so the nurses weren’t taking any risks before I had further evaluations.

My goal on the board was to sit up in the stretcher chair for 1 hour. Being a Type A, goal oriented person, I was determined to meet my goals in the timeline given by the doctors and nurses. I wasn’t going to be the slacker of the class! However, I was SO tired. I was still sleeping a lot during the day, and at this time, I still thought every time I woke up was a new day. I was getting more and more dejected because I thought I was failing my goals! I really don’t know how long that goal was on the board, max 2 days in my guess, but at the time, I thought it had been up for a week without me even attempting to leave my bed.

The first time I was put in the chair was Tuesday night so I could watch The Biggest Loser finale with my mom and dad. I made it 1 hour and 30 minutes sitting up! It may not sound like much, but that is a LONG time when you’ve been flat on your back for weeks on end.

My dad sat next to me and held my hand throughout the show. I love my mom and dad.

Shortly thereafter, I began physical and occupational therapy in my room. Physical therapy focuses on gross motor movement, mostly walking and moving your lower extremities. Occupational therapy focuses on life skills (cooking, getting around your house, grocery shopping, etc.) and upper extremity movement.

In physical therapy, we started with sitting up. What a process just to get me sitting on the side of my bed! Once I was sitting, the therapist asked if I could sit here for 1 hour.

One hour?!? How about 1 minute?

After being on my back for so long, at this point we are going on 1 full week of not even sitting up coupled with weeks of bed rest, it is a very dizzying, strange feeling to sit up. Kind of a nauseous, lightheadedness is what it feels like. The only thing you want to do is lay back down.

She decided that we could sit up for 20 minutes instead. It still felt like forever!

The weirdest part for me as therapy began is the realization of the weight of my body parts. When you weigh yourself, and you see the number, say 100 pounds, you don’t think, “That could mean that each of my legs weighs 20ish pounds.” I’d never thought of my head as weighing any amount at all. I’m here to tell you it’s heavy!

The first few time sitting up I had to be reminded to hold my head up and look straight ahead. I just let it kind of dangle forward toward my chest.

The blessing now is that I have movement! Some of my muscles are beginning to respond which is great. No movement in my arm or hand yet, but that is going to take time, if it does come back at all.

The physical therapists wanted to get me walking as soon as possible. It took two therapists or Dan and a therapist on either side to hold me up and “walk.” It was more of a shuffle with heavy help for my human crutches. But, Praise the Lord, I was up out of bed.

Sensation

Maybe “Lack of “ should precede the title on this post.

I was totally oblivious to my lack of functioning in my physical body. As you can probably tell, my mind was keeping me plenty occupied!

The nurses and doctors would come by periodically and ask me to squeeze there hands with my fists or wiggle my toes. For a while, I just did what they asked without looking at my hands or toes while doing it. Thus I did not realize that there was no movement in my fingers, toes, leg, arm, anything on my left side. 

Notice in the previous post that I did not feel a squeezing sensation on my left leg. The squeezing was definitely there! I thought it was the blood pressure monitor, but they were squeezing my legs to encourage blood flow and prohibit blood clots.

The first thing I remember feeling is on my big toe on my left foot a tiny, distant prick when they squeezed my toe with pliers. Not gently mind you, I’m positive it would really hurt a normal person.

Doctor F. doesn’t know how much or if any movement will return. We will just have to take it one day at a time.

How I Knew I Was Alive

I forgot to tell you this!

Sometime in the process of waking up from the coma, I became aware of a squeezing sensation on my right calf. My first thought:

I’m still alive. I must have made it.

Scary Night

Now this wasn’t a scary time for me, like before, God had me wrapped in a blanket of peace. I more wondered what Dan and the doctor’s were so concerned with.

I’m fine!

As I’ve mentioned before, the red light on my finger was my beacon in the night to get Dan’s attention if I needed something. At this point, Dan stays up with me all night, and my mom and/or dad stay up all day so Dan can sleep.

I am not able to roll myself over or speak to ask for meds. So when I want something, I flag Dan down and we go through a mixture of stellar sign language and gestures to figure out what I wanted. Poor Dan.

One time, I wanted something, no idea what, so I wave my right hand.

Dan, “Honey, I’m right here.”

I’m laying on my side, and I can’t see him. I’m not sure what he means, “I’m right here.” So I wave my hand again.

Dan, “Emily, I’m right here. Can you see me?

Right were? I can’t see you anywhere!

Dan, “Emily, look at me.”

I think I’ve figured out that he is on my left side, but I am turned on my right side. I might have turned my head or not at all. I’m not sure.

Dan goes for the nurse.

Dan explains to the nurse our waving procedure, and that this time, I didn’t look at him when he is sitting right next to me. I really couldn’t see him, and I didn’t really understand the big deal of the situation.

The neuro-doctor on staff for the night comes into my room. He is a young little pipsqueak fresh out of med school, couldn’t be more than a few years older than me. He discusses with the nurse and Dan then comes over to check me out.

Stuffed-shirt Doctor to Dan, “Can she speak?”

Dan, “She can respond to yes/no question.”

I could nod, shake my head, or give hand motions like a thumbs up, but that was the extent of my communicating skills at that time.

Stuffed-shirt Doctor, “Can you hear me, Emily?”

Me: Nod head.

Stuffed-shirt Doctor, “I’m going to test your vision. Follow the light with your eyes only. Don’t move your head.”

I really tried to follow the light, and at times, I thought I was doing it. I mean, I was having neuro checks all the time before surgery and acing them, what was different this time?

Nurse, “Wow, that’s a really bright light.”

Side note: they use the oldest flashlights with the weakest batteries to do their neuro-checks. They always warm you, “bright light.” But it’s never bright.

Stuffed-shirt Doctor, “Yeah, I made sure to get a bright pen light. It’s the brightest out there.”

Right then and there I decided I didn’t like him. He was more concerned with the wattage on his pen light then the condition of my brain.

Slight exaggeration, but I did decide I didn’t like him them. Arrogant, snot.

Stuffed-shirt doctor, “It would appear she has an oral fixation on the right. It may or may not go away with time. We’ll just have to keep watching it.”

This means that the brain was irritated or swollen from surgery, and it was not allowing my eyes to look to the left. Weird, huh? I could compensate y turning my head, but looking just with the eyes didn’t work.

Dominican Republic 2010

Dan and I took a vacation with our friends, J and Andrea, down to the Dominican Republic this June. Before leaving, the weather reports were calling for rain every day so we were a tad concerned that the weather might be a big downer. It was SUPER humid all week, but it only rained twice for less than a half hour each time.

The resort has a lot of free outdoor activities that I've never seen at a resort before. I hear now that these are quite common, but they were new to us! There was kayaking, mini golf, basketball, tennis, shuffle board, chess, badminton, and volleyball. We attempted to play a round of mini golf, but the mosquitoes were to bad that we didn't even finish one hole. Andrea had 30 bites from that 5 minute excursion! Yikes!

Crabs

We only got pictures of the little guys. We were hoping to find some big ones. The locals said that after a hard rain, the big mommas come out. I guess our hardest rain wasn't enough to lure them from their hiding spots.

  Here's one in the hallway by our room.

This little guy was trying to hide, but we got him!

Me and You and You and Me

Day 1: Do we look white?

We look happy, but really I was freaking out thinking I'd fall. :)

 Us going to dinner on Thursday night. We got all gussied up that night.

The Beach

Doing what we did best: J, Andrea, and me = sleeping, Dan = being bored

That's the rest of them in the water. Those are my beautifully pedicured toes. I love vacation!

Flamingos

There was shallow pool for these cute guys. The stink though!

Aren't they cute? It's like a heart!

Friends

Waiting for a show to start...

Breakfast, Monday morning - the shine is from sunscreen...we practically bathed in the stuff!

Dan and J, same day...

So that is our vacation in a nutshell. I should have taken pictures of our 6 hour lay over + 3 hour delayed flight in Miami. I KNOW those would have been exciting photos!

Vacation is fun, but we are glad to be back state-side.

Hallucinations, part II

1. The wall and ceiling titles become scrolling white boards a night. I swear to you that there were kid drawings of houses and trees as well as writing all over the walls and ceilings. It was stationary during the day, but at night they scrolled either up and down or left to right. The panels on the walls were not symmetrical in size which added to the craziness. Now the ceiling tiles were covered in legible writing. I was convinced they were prayers for all the people in the hospital. I remember trying to read them, but I can’t remember any of that anymore.

One day, I tried to remember to ask my mom to let Grace bring her dry erase markers so she could write on my walls. I thought she would enjoy it, and I would like to look at her artwork after she left.

2. There is a little pump that was connected to my feeding tube that would pump water through the tube after every med was put into flush all the meds out of the tube. It would hum and whir for a couple minutes after the meds were put in. At night, I saw a web-like bubble come out of that machine. It would inflate as if the machine were blowing it up, and then slowly deflate when it stopped. I was just like a bubble in that it was translucent, and the only reason I could see it at night, was it reflected the orange glow on of the exit sign in the room.

3. Dreams: There were so many crazy, crazy dreams. The weirdest part was I knew I was dreaming. I would wake up to Dan or mom in my room, and they would tell me to go back to sleep and rest. I knew I was sleeping if I had a crazy dream. In fact, I would sometimes try to create a story or dream so that I would go back to sleep.

I’m a good girl, I do what I’m told!

#1 Flying through the clouds: I am afraid of heights, and none too fond of flying, but I was soaring through the deepest blue sky and puffiest white clouds without a care in the world. I was thoroughly enjoying the beauty of God’s creation. The bright sunlight in my face as well as the sun beams shining through the clouds.

#2 Creating my own movie: In my dreamy, haze I realized that drugged up people have WAY more creative capabilities that sober people. I decided that this must be why all of Hollywood and Nashville is on drugs and messed up. So I thought I should make up a movie storyline now, because I’m in a totally drugged, very creative state. Right?

Here’s my movie title: The Bionical Man of the Universe. Catchy, huh? I didn’t really make up a plot. All I got to was this Ironman-like main character. I’ve never even seen Ironman or Bicentennial Man, but I think that’s what I was going for.

#3 Strolling through the English countryside: Now, have I ever been to England? No. But I was sure that the lush rolling hills speckled with sheep and goats was England. There was a dirt road with a wood split-rail fence running along side it. I strolled (more light floated) along the road enjoying the scenery.

That’s all I can remember right now. Bummer, there were so many more.

Hallucinations

Since these are obviously not reality, I cannot give a time order to you. I will just list them one by one. Put them occurring at any day/time that you chose. You’re guess is as good as mine!

** NONE of the events are real! Although you might guess that! **

1. Sleeping at “night” in the hospital: I am sleeping in my bed or trying to. I wake up a lot. My parents, Zach, Elyse, and Dan are all sleeping in the room together. I know I’m in the hospital, but this is more like a hotel. There is a room where Dan and I are sleeping then a room behind ours where my parents, Zach, and Elyse are sleeping on mattresses on the floor. One of the mattreses has a burgundy bottom sheet. During the night I try to amuse myself by looking around the room. One of the lights in the room has cover on it with the logo of the Kansas City Chiefs. I decide that the owner of the hospital must own the Chiefs and that is why their logo is on the lamp covers.
2. During the nights at the hospital, Dan is sleeping in a chair next to me. I know he is uncomfortable. I notice that there is a crib-like portable bed next to me. Why doesn’t Dan just sleep in that? I try to motion to him to get in and lay down, but I just can’t manage to communicate what is going on.
3. At night, the bugs come out. Seriously. They do. There were ants all over my bed. Flying bugs in the air, and they only came out at night. The flying bugs mostly stay in swarms in the corners of the room, but every once in a while the come fly around my head. I am not afraid enough to move in my bed, but I decide right then and there that when I walk out of this hospital, I am writing a nasty letter tell them of this health hazard. Really, they ought to clean these beds!

To be continued…

Feeding Tube

At this time, I am not aware of how much or little my body is functioning. The reality is it is more on the little than much… I could not move the left side of my body: leg, arm, face, fingers, toes, etc. I cannot feel touch, and I don’t remember if I am responding to pain at this time yet. I’ll get to that portion later. Just keep in mind through this post that I don’t realize what I can/cannot do.

The next event I remember is getting the feeding tube put in. It is so weird to think about because I think I was awake, eyes open, but it is a hazy memory. Hazy in how things looked and hazy in remembering the actual events.

My side of the story: I am sitting up in my bed. My mom is with me. We are in a clinic of sorts. There are a lot of people milling around, and I think they are all getting medical care. I am in a big open room.

The doctor comes to me and says we are putting a feeding tube in so that the nourishment can jump start the healing process.

I’m a little confused as I think I have just woken up from surgery. This would mean I ate about 24 hours ago. Why don’t they just let me eat?

The doctor asks my mom if she will get woozy watching this. She says no (my mom is a trooper!). I think she is holding my hand. The doctor tells me to relax and he begins putting the tube in.

Have you ever had a feeding tube put in through your nose? Not fun. I couldn’t relax. I tried to breath and swallow when they told me to, but it was so uncomfortable and painful at times. Somehow there was water in the beginning of the tube, and water going in your nose just isn’t right. I mean, you’re supposed to plug your nose when you jump in the water right? It hurts when water goes in your nose. It’s just not natural.

It took several attempts, but the crazy doc finally got it in.

Whew! Relax again, more sleep…

Real Story: This all took place in my room in ICU. I don't think anyone was there but my mom and the doc. This is just the beginning of the hallucinations!

Sometime later, I woke up to a portable x-ray machine in my room. They needed to make sure the feeding tube was in my stomach and not my lungs or something.

It is in the right spot. Whew, again! I did not want to go through that again!

More sleep…

Sometime in my drowsy state, I hear someone say that the formula for the tubes comes at 4 o’clock. My mind starts to race. How do I eat? How will I swallow? What if I choke? I clearly did not understand how this feeding tube business worked!

Dan is in my room. I somehow think it is near 4 o’clock. I can’t talk yet. I am VERY concerned about this whole feeding routine. I decide I must figure out how to eat. So I start to spell words out in sign language. One tiny problem, I don’t remember all the letters and Dan doesn’t know any of them. Good combination.

Dan figures out that I’m trying to tell him something, and he goes for the nurse. All the nurses are trained to know basic sign language. They can’t figure out what I’m trying to say either. Of course, I don’t try to sign “eat” or something basic like that. I try to spell out the whole sentence, “how do I eat?” Only problem is I can’t figure out “h.” Oh boy…

The nurses bring in some signs that have the alphabet on one side and basic functions on the other (roll over, nurse, light, turn on TV, etc.). So Dan goes through one by one to try to figure out what I need.

They are frustrated, and I am frustrated. I decide to give up and ask them to roll me over. Back to sleep…

Note: I’m positive now that the feeding tube was working the whole time I was trying to figure out how to eat. What a loon!

Waking up from a Coma

I did not know prior to the surgery that I would be put into a coma. It’s kind of weird waking up from it.

First memory:

Chunk! (think big level used to turn on stage lights)

BRIGHT red light is directly over my head shining in my eyes. (Hindsight tells me my eyes were closed hence the red. I think I was still in my ICU room.)

Dr. F.: Emily, do you want to get this tube out of your mouth?

I have a tube in my mouth? Huh, well, he sounds like getting it out is a good thing… I nod yes.

Dr. F.: Ok, you going to feel a little pull while we get the tape off. There’s some on your nose and your cheeks.

“Little pull” my hiney, that medical tape is the most lethal weapon they have at the hospital. I think all the captured terrorists would start talking really quick if they just put some medical tape on a hairy part of their body and RIP it off. Yep, that is the solution to world peace.

Dr. F.: Ok, Emily, when I count to three I need you to give me a big cough. Ok?

Cough? Why should I cough? I nod anyway.

Dr. F.: One, two, three!

A two-by-four is ripped deep out of my throat, so deep I wonder how I didn’t know it was there. I start coughing and gagging. So to make it worse, Dr. F sticks the suction tube down my throat. I do mean down my throat. Like, it was in my stomach. Seriously. I’m gagging and coughing. It was terrible.

Dr. F.: That was a great cough, Emily!

Gee thanks

Nurse: Don’t worry honey, he’s not going to put his sword down your throat again. You can rest now.

Sleep beautiful sleep….

AVM Surgery

I obviously don’t recall any of the information from this day. :) This is what Dan and my family has told me.

The surgery started bright and early on Thursday, December 3. The surgeon needed a fresh team as this surgery was predicted to last anywhere from 6 to 24 hours.

First the prep work, shave the incision area, make the incision, peal back the skin, open the skull, and we’re ready to begin the surgery (too much detail??). I don’t recall the time when they actually were ready to begin to take it out,  but it took a long time to prepare for that and an even longer time to take out the AVM. It was a very delicate procedure.

The AVM was even bigger than the surgeon had imagined. It was a big fella. The AVM was the size of an apricot but cone shaped like a banana pepper. The most difficult part was extracting the tip from deep down in the brain.

Dan and my parents waited at the hospital waiting room. Luke and Lacey held a prayer vigil at the church during the ENTIRE surgery. What a blessing! I can’t even tell you what a comfort and joy it is to think that so many people were lifting me up in prayer that day. It brings tears to my eyes right now to think of the prayer warriors at L&L’s church that didn’t even know me, but yet, they committed part of their day to bringing me before the ultimate Healer.

Can you imagine sitting in the waiting room? I can’t. I’m a worrier by nature. My mom says I get it from my dad. Here is another part where I see God’s mighty hand at work. I was not worried. I did get anxious before surgery, but the night in between and after (and the weeks leading up to surgery), God had me wrapped in peace.

Back to the surgery, my family got updates every few hours. Oh the pins and needles they must have been sitting on during that time.

Around midnight, Dr. Rob, the physician’s assistant, is going home. Dr. F. is still finishing up, but he can handle the rest. Sometime after 1pm, I’m all put bsack together and returned to my room in the ICU. To assist in the healing process, I was put into a medically induced coma.

Dan and my parents (I think L&L came too after the vigil) are allowed to see me in my room. My room is now a low stimulation room. They say you can hear what people say to you while you’re in a coma. I don’t know. I don’t remember. Those drugs are good you know?

Some 18 or 19 hours later, surgery is over. Now, the healing begins.

Opinions Needed

We have an open house on Saturday, and I am attempting to "stage" some rooms better. I am no interior designer by ANY means, so let me know what you think. Be honest, you won't hurt my feelings. :)

Dining Room Shelves Before:

Dining Room Shelves After:

Better? Eh?

Sorry about the picture quality. We need a new camera.

The reason for the change is to free up the big white frames for our bedroom. I want to do as much staging as possible with the things we already have.

Bedroom soon to come...

Embolization – Wednesday, December 2

The anesthesia used for the embolization and surgery has an amnesic quality to it. So even though I was “awake” going into both procedures, I don’t remember too much. The embolization procedure took place in the afternoon, and I couldn’t tell you anything about that morning.

As far as I know, the procedure went well. I think it took a little longer than they imagined, but they have to put the glue in REALLY slow. For those that don’t know, the purpose of this procedure is to block off all the arteries leading to the AVM to make the surgery that removes the AVM easier. For some people with small AVM, this is the treatment. The risk of surgery is too great for small AVMs. So they just cut off the blood flow, and the patient goes on with his/her life.  In my case, the doctor thought I had a medium to large sized AVM so it needed the whole nine yards.

Here is what I remember the night between the embolization and surgery:

1. Waking up. Waving my right arm to signal to Dan to roll me over. “Where do you want to face?” Point with my arm.  Rolling and stuffing of pillows. Lather, rinse, repeat. This happened over and over and over. Dan says I asked to be turned over every 10-15 minutes all through the night. I just couldn’t get comfortable.

2. While in the hospital, they put a monitor that measures your oxygen on your finger. It has a glowing red light on it. I waved this to get Dan’s attention throughout the night.

3. Notice, I couldn’t turn myself over. This might seem odd to you, but for some reason, it did not seem odd to me. Dan says that the embolization had already ceased the functioning on my left side. We don’t know exactly what caused it, but it was one or a combination of the following: swelling from the procedure, medication, or brain damage.

It is now Thursday morning, I don’t remember anything except rolling in my bed to the elevator talking to the nurse about Christmas shopping.

Surgery proceedings began early, maybe 7am or so. That’s all I know for a few days.

The Days Leading Up to Surgery

After you’ve been in the hospital for any amount of time, you loose track of the date, how many days you’ve been there, what happened on a given day, etc. It’s like time stands still.

The visitors I remember before surgery are my co-worker Whitney, her husband, Candice, and Jordan. I think Whitney came to visit a day or two before the embolization. She is such a sweetheart. I love her to death. We had a nice visit in my itty-bitty (but private!) regular room.

Speaking of rooms, I was moved back to a regular room to await surgery. No worries, nothing happens this time! Except bad roommates, Holy Cow!

Roommate #1 is very, very ill. Whatever she has causes her to vomit and call out for her family all the time. Remember, I am on bed rest, no blowing my nose, pushing out BM’s, etc (don’t you love all the details!). Throwing up is definitely out of the question. Dan finds the nurse, explains the situation and requests a room change. The nurse claims Roommate #1 isn’t contagious. I’m glad you think so, but you aren’t sleeping 4 feet away from her!.

We get a room change that night. Thank you, Lord!

We are in our new room for several hours before Roommate #2 arrives. She is a hysterically-cranky, sweet old lady. Her family is with her through the evening then leaves. We over hear the nurses doing their neuro-checks and cognitive tests with her. We can barely contain the laughter on the other side of the curtain. I think she answered every question in the most sarcastic manner possible.

Nurse: What day is today?

Roommate #2: How should I know?

Nurse: Why did you come here today?

Roommate #2: Some old fart brought me here.

I can’t remember all the things she said. The term “old fart” was used over and over in reference to anyone and everyone. Hysterical.

I don’t know how long we were in that room, but we were eventually brought to a private room once one opened. It was so tiny (as mentioned above), but SO nice to not have some stranger snoring next to you or waking you up in the middle of the night because she doesn’t know where she is. Poor lady.

The night before the embolization Candice and Jordan came to visit. What was so great about their visit, besides the company, was Candice did my nails. So fun! She gave me a wonderful manicure. My nails were a fantastic purple when she finished. I kept it on the entire time I was in the hospital and rehab. It really lifted my spirits when I looked at it.

That night I was progressively more and more anxious. I’d like to think I kept a pretty cool exterior, but I don’t know. Family, feel free to call me out. I remember someone says that when they were in the hospital, they got some meds for anxiety to help calm them down before the procedure. Eventually, I buzzed my nurse to ask for the same thing. I’m not sure what I got, but it definitely did not calm me down. I think the meds are either psychological or meant to prevent anxiety not treat it once you are anxious.

**I don’t remember this part, but Dan says I asked for it over and over again before the embolization. I was getting a little freaked out, ya know?**