God Had Other Plans: Tuesday, November 17, 2009

I must take a quick moment to tell you about my husband, Dan. Obviously, he was the one to take me into the hospital on Saturday morning. He had to repeatedly answer the same four questions each time I woke up, Where am I? Why does my head still hurt? Does my mom know? Did you tell Erin I can’t come see her today? In the past, he always got annoyed when I’d tell him the same story over and over. I think God has a sense of humor even during the bad times.

Anyways, what I was going to point out is that he never left my side. He stayed in my room every night, he prayed with me, and he read the Bible to me for hours on end. There really are so many other things, but most you don’t want to hear about. Let’s just say he dealt with the good, the bad, and the very ugly during the hospitalization. I could never say enough about the wonderful, caring husband he was to me. He is truly a man of God, and I am honored God let me spend my life with him.

Back to the story: I am doing very well. So no more neuro checks every hour all day and all night. Thank you Lord for some real sleep! I am being transferred to a regular room for my last night in the hospital, Tuesday, November, 17. I’m going home on Wednesday to wait for a surgery date to be set.

Tuesday night my friend Megan came to see me. We had a great visit. We talked and laughed for a long time. It was so good to sit and chat. My roommate that night wasn’t the most pleasant. She complained loudly and snored even louder (this is all before 9pm!). Sometime, Meg left for the night.

Dan didn’t have a chair that laid down in the room. This is going to be a long night. Oh we had no idea…

I don’t know the real time frame, but within 30 minutes of Meg leaving, another headache started with a vengeance. Sharp, searing pain is shooting in my head. We push the call button for the nurse. She says she’ll be right there.

She’s not here. Push the call button again.

“Something’s wrong. We need you to come”

She’ll be right there. Nothing. Pushing the call button repeatedly now.

I start to cry which makes it even worse. It’s a lot more scary when you know what is going on. I ask Dan if I’m going to die. It’s all very real now. He starts to tear up. “No, you’re not going to die.” He starts to pray.

No nurse. Where is she????

Push the call button again. (Funny thing about being in a regular room versus the ICU, the nurses don’t come running when you push the call button on the regular floor. Bummer for me.)

Finally the nurse arrives. I am going immediately down for a CT scan to see if the brain is bleeding again. It HAS to be. It feels just like before but worse.

There is no transport bed available. I am in one of the older sections of the hospital, so the only choice is to wheel my bed down to where they do the CT scans.

The trip was horrible to say the least. I’m curled in the fetal position just trying to bear the pain, and the bed is hitting every corner and doorway on the way down. Murder.

In the elevator, I try to explain to the nurse that I’m not faking the pain. I’m really in a lot of pain right now. In fact, I could only whisper it hurt so much. She says she knows I’m not faking, but I still don’t think she believes me. I again try to tell her I’m not a winer like my roommate. She says she knows. I give up.

Results from the CT scan: my brain is hemoraging again. I am taken directly to ICU again. It seems like forever, but I finally get some pain meds. Fentynol is a beautiful, wonderful drug. Relief is on the way…

Party in the ICU: Sunday, November 15, 2009

The neurosurgeon on call the weekend I was admitted did not specialize in the malformation I had in my brain. So since my vitals were very stable, I was not rushed into surgery as the doctors at the first hospital thought I would be. The surgeon decided to wait until the following week for the specialist to come in and see me.

Isn’t God amazing?!? Here I am with as rare brain condition that I have never heard of, and there just happens to be a specialist here in town. There is lots of medical stuff in GR, but this AVM is pretty rare. God is so good!

So everyone and their mother came to see me on Sunday. It was a great party. People would come up to the fourth floor and ask for Emily, and the nurses would just point down the hall to noisy room filled with people! How fun!

Another area where God is amazing: He surrounded me with people who love me and supported me through this crazy, scary time. Our small group, parents, grandparents, brothers, and sisters all came to see me that day. I must tell you that I had a smashing time. Crazy, huh? I couldn’t do anything more than sit in bed, but it was so encouraging to see everyone that loved me.

Note: Sometime Saturday or Sunday they let me eat. I don’t remember when, but I do know that I raved over the food!

Monday (I think, not sure when this event occurred) I had an angiogram to assess the extent of the AVM. I was SUPER chatty with the nurses as they prepped me for the procedure. They said I’d be partially awake. Above the operating table was a panel of six monitors and one had a picture of a brain still up on it. Cool. This is not so bad. I can totally handle watching this. This is going to be sweet!

Then the doctor came in. I was chatting with him too, 90 miles an hour. I told him that I must be nervous because I don’t usually talk this much. Then I asked him if I could talk during the procedure. “No,” he said. “Bummer, why not?” I asked. “Because I will be going through your neck.” That shut me up good. I don’t remember anything after that.

Oh, I do. As I was getting ready to leave the operating room, they moved me to the transfer bed. I looked back at the table and longingly said, “Can I have that pillow? It was SOOOO comfortable.” The nurses laughed. Why are you laughing? I just had the best sleep of my life on that pillow? “Would you like us to sign it too?” they asked. “Yes!” I said. So they all autographed it and I hugged it to my chest on the way back to the room.

Later, when I was more conscious, I saw that the lovely, soft pillow was really nothing more than a square piece of foam with an indent for the head. Crazy what the drugs do to you, huh?

Sometime Monday or Tuesday, my neurosurgeon came to see me, we ran some tests, and we decided that I could go home until after Thanksgiving. The surgery needed to take place for me to lead a normal life, but I was in no imminent danger in the state I was. There’s only a 6% chance of a second bleed within the next 6 months. Pretty good odds, don’t you think?

Transfer to Spectrum: Saturday, November 14, 2009

I’ve only ridden in an ambulance twice in my life. The first time when I was 13. I don’t really remember much except I was PETRIFIED! The paramedic was putting an IV in my arm and I hated it. I was so scared. I want my mommy.

This ride was very different. It was extremely bumpy. Didn’t they think to put some shocks or struts or whatever makes my car drive nice and smooth in an ambulance? Seriously, injured people are riding in these things, and they are being jarred out of their minds on their trip to the hospital.

Which makes me think of something, at this point in the story I’m officially on bed rest and no diet because I’m heading into brain surgery as soon as we get to Spectrum. The bed rest was because any change in pressure inside my head could start another bleed that might not be able to be controlled. Great. Oh and I can’t blow my nose, cry, or go to the bathroom. Who knows, if they let me go to the bathroom, I might have to push out a BM and my brain would explode. (slight exaggeration) They were so concerned about my internal cranial pressure, but what if a suffered a concussion from the potholes on I-96? No big deal?

Here is where the grace of God comes in. I was not scared. I did not even think to cry. This is very against my nature as I am a worrier and deathly afraid of all things doctor related. I was more than at peace. I was high on life (no paid meds at this time). I was chatting it up with Dan, my friends, the paramedics, anyone I saw. I was not the least bit concerned about what was happening. God definitely give you the strength you need to get through each circumstance before you.

Now maybe my body was in shock, who knows. I think God was protecting and comforting me. It worked for me!

Our lovely friends followed the ambulance to the hospital and brought our car with them. I was admitted right into the ICU. They had a room ready and waiting for me by the time I got there.

Maybe Not Just a Headache: Saturday, November 14, 2009

I’m tired. My head hurts.

Sleeping.

I’m tired. My head hurts.

More sleeping.

I remember groggily waking up to Dan’s iPhone propped up on my arm.

Cool. I’ll check my email.

Note: I did not notice my surroundings. Turn iPhone on and the notepad is up. Dan wrote, “I’m here. I went to the bathroom right next door. You are ok. I’ll be right back.”

Weird-o. What is he talking about? I’m going to check my email.

Note: Again, did not notice my surroundings.

I’m tired. My head hurts. I’m going to take a nap.

Sleeping.

The next time I remember waking up, Dan and some of our friends from our church are in a room with me. Hi, guys! It’s a party!

I don’t know how the news was broken to me. Apparently, I had been told several times though my waking, sleeping, waking, and more sleeping routine that:

1)     I was in the hospital.

2)     There was something wrong with my short term memory.

3)     A CT scan has revealed a malformation in the arteries in my brain. The arteries had burst (causing the headache) and blood had pooled in the brain (the pressure from which caused my short term memory to say bye-bye!).

4)     I was going to be transported to Spectrum in downtown GR because the hospital I was at couldn’t handle this issue.

5)     I was having brain surgery today.

Cool! Let’s get going with it them!

Saturday Morning, November 14, 2009

Note: This has been relayed to me by Dan. I have no recollection of these events.

I woke up on Saturday before Dan, per usual. I went to the bathroom and came back to sit on the edge of the bed. I sat there for a few minutes then went to the bathroom again. Dan hears the toilet flush, running water, etc. I come out and sit on the edge of the bed. (This may have happened a few more times, I don’t know.)

I hear Dan waking up and say, “Well, I guess I’ll go to the bathroom now.”

Dan: “How many times have you been to the bathroom today?”

Me: “Oh, I haven’t gone yet.”

Dan: “Get dressed. We’re going to the hospital.”

Just a Headache: Friday, November 13

I wake up Friday morning at the alarm. Whew, I feel fine. My head doesn’t hurt.

Then I stand up.

Pounding, throbbing pain in my head and neck. It gets better after a few minutes of standing though. Ok, no big deal, get ready for work.

While getting ready, I notice that each time I bend my neck forward or side to side I get the throbbing pain again. If I leave it in normal position though, no pain. I wake up Dan to tell him I still have the headache. We decide that if I still have it on Monday, I’ll go to the doctor. Today is a big day, I have a 4 hour meeting at work then Dan and I were going to a hockey game that night. Can’t mess up the plans to go to the doctor!

Seriously, it’s just a headache.

Going through the day, I have this sinking feeling that it’s more than just a headache. Walking down the stairs sends shooting pains all the way down my spine. Not shooting enough to make me want to stop and do something about it though.

We go to the hockey game after work. Still have the headache. I’m not even taking meds because they don’t seem to help. The noise of the hockey game is making the headache worse. We eat dinner and stick it out for a while, then decide to call it a night. I think we left after the second period. I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention.

We walked to our car that we’d parked on the street downtown. Dan opens my door for me. That’s the last thing I remember…

The Beginning: November 12, 2009

It’s about 4:00pm, and I’m sitting at my desk as work. I’m counting down the minutes until I can leave. A typical experience about that time every day! I had just finished eating a banana when a piercing pain shot through my head. It felt like a knife had been stuck in the back of my head (side note: I’m very desensitized to the gory details of this experience. So sorry if anything is TMI!).

I gripped my desk and stared bug-eyed at my computer screen. What is happening? My head HURTS! I’m not sure what to do. I can’t really think straight. The pain must have triggered the “I’m sick” button in my brain because I got up and went to the bathroom. I sit down in the chair in the bathroom. Some senses come back to me. What am I doing here? I’m not going to throw up. What good is the bathroom going to do?

I remember the lady I carpool with, she seems like the type to have a “pharmacy” at her desk. This is just a headache. Maybe I have a migrane. I go to Deb’s desk. She is concerned and wonders if we should head home early. Nah, I’m fine. It’s almost time to go anyway. I get some pain reliever and head back to my desk. Thirty minutes or so later, we head for home.

When I got home, I told Dan about the headache. He isn’t too concerned and neither am I. It’s just a headache, right?

My Side of the Story…

As the months pass from my AVM surgery, I find I am forgetting more and more of what happened. Not the big things, but lots of the little details. When I was in rehab, one of my assignments each night was to write to get my brain back in gear. My therapists recommended I journal about what I’d gone through in the last few weeks. Or write about anything else, just write. Get that brain working again!

I started out strong journaling, but let’s all be honest here, I’m not much of a journaler (or a blogger!). I made it up to Thanksgiving day, about 12 days into the ordeal. (Not long, I was in the hospital for 39 days.) Fast forward to being release and back home, I have very much appreciated Luke and Lacey’s dedication to posting Dan’s updates about me throughout the hospitalization. I don’t want to forget what I went through. Not in a masochistic or poor-me-victim-like way, but so that I can share my story with others. I look back over the ordeal and I see God’s hand at work in a mighty way. He spared me for a reason, and I don’t want to neglect remembering what he has done for me.

So I’m calling this “My Side of the Story…” because this may not be factually true. Once I was on heavy pain-relieving, coma-inducing meds, all kinds of crazy things seemed like reality. I forgot people I knew, saw Narnia-like creatures, found out I could fly (no, really! I could!), and so much more! J I will do my best to point out those times I know I’m straying from reality (they might be obvious!), but hey, I still might not know them all!

So here goes…