8/11/2009 worst.day.ever.

One year ago today was undeniably the worst day of my life.  I was admitted to the hospital (for the second time) with mysterious lung nodules… but in much more pain than the earlier 2-day stay at UK.  My fever was 104 point something.  Can someone please throw me in tub of ice?!  The piercing pain in my chest convinced me I must be having a heart attack.  I was also certain that a demon was stabbing a jagged knife into my left side and occasionally twisting it around for fun.  My leg and ankle joints throbbed and the inflamed nodules on my calves made it impossible to walk.  Not to mention I couldn’t breathe. 

I remember being extremely hungry that evening.  I hadn’t eaten much in two weeks- mostly only rice, like my Granny used to make it- with butter, salt and milk.  So my sweet husband volunteered to bring me real food at the hospital.  I vividly recall puking up the Qdoba chicken nachos I had woofed down in attempts to satisfy my starving body.  I had ignored my nausea.  Stupid me.  I dreaded the vomit, not just because I hate vomit, but because the retching worsened the already excruciating chest and side pain. 

I remember the poor IV staff at Good Sam trying to start fluids four different times.  I eventually demanded that they stop trying- my veins were too shriveled up.  When I later requested my medical records, the chart stated “patient refused fluids.”  Not entirely correct.  I simply refused the 5^th attempt of an IV needle digging around in my dehydrated arm.  [Thank goodness the IV tech at UK stuck me first try.  I wish I knew her name.  She deserved a gold star.]

Good Sam hospital didn’t keep me long- I was transported to UK a.s.a.p. by ambulance.  I wonder how much that cost my insurance company.  It was the bumpiest, most miserable ride I have ever experienced.  If you can avoid riding in an ambulance, I advise to do so.  Stretcher wheels need serious shock improvement as well.  I would rather have ridden in a regular car with my mommy and had Christopher scoop me out of the car and carry me in the hospital to my bed.

I don’t remember when I was finally able to receive some Tylenol suppositories for my fever.  Bless my mother for being a nurse and giving these to me.  There were a lot of things I let my mother do to me in the hospital that I would never let her do had I been sane.  I just knew I was very sick and needed help.  Mom, I love you.

The following days I did not really get better.  I think they sliced my chest wall and lung open on the 13^th sometime.  I still have residual pain from those scars- usually when I exercise or stretch my left arm too far one direction.  Apparently I have permanent metal staples in my lung.

I’ve already detailed my hospital experience in previous blogs.  I have just had it on my mind today because it is August 11.  Has it really been a year already?

I thank God for allowing me to survive and for growing me, mostly spiritually.  And for letting me see how much my family and friends love me.  I’m pretty sure my mother-in-law saw me in the shower and I’m pretty sure I didn’t care.  And nothing will be able to separate me from my husband- he is an amazing man.

I have been on Prednisone for a year now, with approximately two 4-week breaks.  I confess it is wearing on me.  I think I've gone crazy.  Soon I will be done with them.  Soon…

Anyway, love on your family today- give them hugs and kisses and tell them how grateful you are for their existence.  I know I am so very grateful for mine.