Monday, August 31, 2009
Home Health NUTS (I mean, Nurses)
I have known my fair share of nurses over the years, and for the most part they have all been very sweet, caring, and well-educated. But, as in all things, there are those that are completely clueless. Unfortunately, I found a whole agency of them. Let me just say, they were so bad that my doctor got involved and fired the entire agency!
When I left the hospital I had to continue on IV antibiotics. The doctor wanted to be sure that all infections were totally cleared up. Since I wasn't yet capable of taking care of myself, I had to have my first home health visit at my mom's house. The nurse showed up and seemed to be very competent. She was nice enough, went over my medical history, and prepared to get yet another needle shoved into my chest. Thankfully, she hit the port on the first try. Then the problems began. She started to tape it down when the tape twisted. As she was trying to pull the tape off the needle came out of the port. Since time was running out for my next treatment she immediately gave it another shot. She thought she hit the port. After a number of attempts to flush the port with saline, I was in so much pain my mom finally told her to pack up her stuff and leave.
We grabbed my next treatment and headed to the ER. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. They pressed on my chest on the side where my port is located and it was very soft and puffy. The home health nurse had shot so much saline into my chest cavity that they had to give me pain medication. Once they located my medical records they immediately needled my port and started my IV antibiotics...two hours AFTER I was supposed to have it. So home I go.
The next day another home health nurse showed up at my home. This time the home health nurse had no clue what she was doing. She couldn't get the needle in my port for nothing. Again, I had to tell her to just leave. Again, I had to take the antibiotics and head to the ER for my treatment. Once my doctor got word of what had happened, not only once, but twice with the same agency, she called them up personally and fired them. Needless to say, I received a phone call from the agency. They wanted to know why my doctor called them up and fired them. I explained to them what had happened with the two nurses who had been sent to my home to take care of me. Not surprisingly, they tried to defend the nurses. I now knew why everyone that asked me who was going to be taking care of me at home was reluctant and told me to reconsider. Unfortunately, when you are in the military you tend to have to use who they tell you to. The only way to change it is to have things go wrong. At least I know who I don't want taking care of me, EVER AGAIN!
When I left the hospital I had to continue on IV antibiotics. The doctor wanted to be sure that all infections were totally cleared up. Since I wasn't yet capable of taking care of myself, I had to have my first home health visit at my mom's house. The nurse showed up and seemed to be very competent. She was nice enough, went over my medical history, and prepared to get yet another needle shoved into my chest. Thankfully, she hit the port on the first try. Then the problems began. She started to tape it down when the tape twisted. As she was trying to pull the tape off the needle came out of the port. Since time was running out for my next treatment she immediately gave it another shot. She thought she hit the port. After a number of attempts to flush the port with saline, I was in so much pain my mom finally told her to pack up her stuff and leave.
We grabbed my next treatment and headed to the ER. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. They pressed on my chest on the side where my port is located and it was very soft and puffy. The home health nurse had shot so much saline into my chest cavity that they had to give me pain medication. Once they located my medical records they immediately needled my port and started my IV antibiotics...two hours AFTER I was supposed to have it. So home I go.
The next day another home health nurse showed up at my home. This time the home health nurse had no clue what she was doing. She couldn't get the needle in my port for nothing. Again, I had to tell her to just leave. Again, I had to take the antibiotics and head to the ER for my treatment. Once my doctor got word of what had happened, not only once, but twice with the same agency, she called them up personally and fired them. Needless to say, I received a phone call from the agency. They wanted to know why my doctor called them up and fired them. I explained to them what had happened with the two nurses who had been sent to my home to take care of me. Not surprisingly, they tried to defend the nurses. I now knew why everyone that asked me who was going to be taking care of me at home was reluctant and told me to reconsider. Unfortunately, when you are in the military you tend to have to use who they tell you to. The only way to change it is to have things go wrong. At least I know who I don't want taking care of me, EVER AGAIN!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
ME?! BEHAVE?!
Thursday, April 16, 2009 - SURGERY DAY!!! There was a little anxiety. It was just another surgery, though. During the previous days I did make a friend that helped the days pass. She had a tumor in her cheek that she had removed. We did each other good. I was able to encourage her to get out and walk, and gave her someone to talk to. She gave me someone to talk to when my family couldn't be there. It was nice having a friend. But, now it was time for my surgery. The nurses came in early to take me to surgery. That took away some anxiety as it was a lot earlier than I was supposed to go. Because I am allergic to latex I had to be the first surgery of the day. That changed everything. On the other hand, I didn't have to feel hungry. There are benefits to every situation. You just have to know what to look for.
As I started to come out from anesthesia I remember telling the nurses I was hot. They found some floor fans and turned them on me. My husband was there when I first woke up. He told me that he had talked to me before and that I told him I was in a lot of pain. I don't remember that conversation at all. THANK GOD for anesthesia. See? Find the good in every situation. It didn't take long before I was on my way back to my room. I actually felt pretty good after my surgery. It didn't take me long before I was up and going to the bathroom. I started right away doing the exercises that my doctor taught me. At first it was a little painful, but my arm loosened up pretty quick. In order to not forget to do the exercises I started a routine for myself. Every time I went to the bathroom I did the exercises. This was a good routine as I went at least every two to three hours. Everything was going well and I was healing quickly.
A couple of days later I had my first good cry. I went to the bathroom and noticed that a piece of gauze had fallen on the floor. For the first time I pulled back on the binder to see if I could find where it had come out of. Seeing my mastectomy site was not a pretty site. The doctor left some excess skin as she knew I wanted to have reconstructive surgery later. I sat on the toilet and had a good cry. After my little period of "mourning" for the loss of my breast I called the nurse so they could redress my incision. By then I was okay with what I had seen. I had a little talk with God and felt better about my loss. Afterall, it was just a breast. Chickens lose them all the time! The cancer was gone and that is what I had to focus on. See? There again, look for the good in every situation. I can't stress that enough. I call it my "Pollyanna" attitude. It makes everything a lot easier to deal with. If all you focus on is the bad things in life you will be a very miserable, unhappy person. I chose to be happy. I like happy. NOTHING is wrong if you have the right attitude.
The next day I felt like I was in labor. I was going through the most dreaded surgery constipation. This was worse. At least childbirth went by quickly. This went on and on. I would sit in the bathroom trying to push. After three kids though my first reaction was to start the breathing techniques I was taught in Lamaze. I called the nurse and asked for a suppository and a stool softener. After a couple of hours had gone by I was finally able to "give birth". If I took anything away from this experience it was that you don't wait until you have been at least two days without a BM. If you go more than 12 hours you should ask for stool softeners as childbirth is no fun if there's no little bundle of joy to hold when it's over. On the other hand, this only lasted a couple of hours. A crying baby lasts a couple of months. There's that silver lining again.
Now, for the worst act of misbehaving yet! Everything was going well and it was time to go home. As I was on blood thinners, I was there until my blood was therapeutic. I was so close that the doctor decided to start me on Lovenox shots. I hated those shots as I had already endured them for about a month after the blood clot was discovered. You can only stick yourself in the same place so many times before thick, hard bumps and a lot of bruising occur. So, needless to say, I was NOT looking forward to these dreaded shots again. Well, I went to sleep on what was supposed to be my last night in the hospital. During the early morning I woke up to go to the bathroom. I felt a little funny, but dismissed it as a reaction to getting the shots again. After I was done in the bathroom I went to the sink to wash my hands and check on my drainage tubes. I was shocked to see that my side was covered in blood. I went over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. There was a large area of blood on the bed as well. I called the nurse. They got me cleaned up and my bedding changed. They assured me that everything was okay and that it looked like more blood than it really was. I went back to sleep. A couple of hours later I woke up very lightheaded and a little woozy. Once again I got up to go to the bathroom and right away noticed the huge pool of blood on my bad. Again, I called the nurse. They came in and cleaned me up yet again, trying to put a little more pressure with thick amounts of gauze under my binder. The doctor was called. When she came to see me I had lost quite a bit of blood. She used some kind of suction device that hooked up to my drainage tubes to suck the excess blood out of my body. It turns out that the Lovenox had a very strange and unusual side effect on me. Leave it to me to have something bazaar and out of the ordinary happen. My parents are STILL looking for that zipper that proves I'm an alien.
Over the next several hours I had to have blood draws. The doctor wanted to give me a transfusion, but I REALLY didn't want that. I asked her if there was anything else we could try first. She started me on iron tablets three times a day and ordered IV iron. I had two courses of IV iron. Yet another strange side effect - I started tasting walnut brownies! The nurse said that was the first time she had heard that one. Silver lining - at dinner that evening there just happened to be a walnut brownie on my tray for dessert! What are the odds? After a couple of blood draws that showed my levels were still dropping the doctor once again tried to talk me into a transfusion. We came to the agreement that if my next blood draw dropped again I would go through with the transfusion. THANK GOD that next blood draw showed improvement in my levels. The IV iron and the iron tablets three times a day had worked. I was finally improving. The bleeding had stopped, my levels looked good, and my Coumadin was therapeutic. I was finally going home.
As I started to come out from anesthesia I remember telling the nurses I was hot. They found some floor fans and turned them on me. My husband was there when I first woke up. He told me that he had talked to me before and that I told him I was in a lot of pain. I don't remember that conversation at all. THANK GOD for anesthesia. See? Find the good in every situation. It didn't take long before I was on my way back to my room. I actually felt pretty good after my surgery. It didn't take me long before I was up and going to the bathroom. I started right away doing the exercises that my doctor taught me. At first it was a little painful, but my arm loosened up pretty quick. In order to not forget to do the exercises I started a routine for myself. Every time I went to the bathroom I did the exercises. This was a good routine as I went at least every two to three hours. Everything was going well and I was healing quickly.
A couple of days later I had my first good cry. I went to the bathroom and noticed that a piece of gauze had fallen on the floor. For the first time I pulled back on the binder to see if I could find where it had come out of. Seeing my mastectomy site was not a pretty site. The doctor left some excess skin as she knew I wanted to have reconstructive surgery later. I sat on the toilet and had a good cry. After my little period of "mourning" for the loss of my breast I called the nurse so they could redress my incision. By then I was okay with what I had seen. I had a little talk with God and felt better about my loss. Afterall, it was just a breast. Chickens lose them all the time! The cancer was gone and that is what I had to focus on. See? There again, look for the good in every situation. I can't stress that enough. I call it my "Pollyanna" attitude. It makes everything a lot easier to deal with. If all you focus on is the bad things in life you will be a very miserable, unhappy person. I chose to be happy. I like happy. NOTHING is wrong if you have the right attitude.
The next day I felt like I was in labor. I was going through the most dreaded surgery constipation. This was worse. At least childbirth went by quickly. This went on and on. I would sit in the bathroom trying to push. After three kids though my first reaction was to start the breathing techniques I was taught in Lamaze. I called the nurse and asked for a suppository and a stool softener. After a couple of hours had gone by I was finally able to "give birth". If I took anything away from this experience it was that you don't wait until you have been at least two days without a BM. If you go more than 12 hours you should ask for stool softeners as childbirth is no fun if there's no little bundle of joy to hold when it's over. On the other hand, this only lasted a couple of hours. A crying baby lasts a couple of months. There's that silver lining again.
Now, for the worst act of misbehaving yet! Everything was going well and it was time to go home. As I was on blood thinners, I was there until my blood was therapeutic. I was so close that the doctor decided to start me on Lovenox shots. I hated those shots as I had already endured them for about a month after the blood clot was discovered. You can only stick yourself in the same place so many times before thick, hard bumps and a lot of bruising occur. So, needless to say, I was NOT looking forward to these dreaded shots again. Well, I went to sleep on what was supposed to be my last night in the hospital. During the early morning I woke up to go to the bathroom. I felt a little funny, but dismissed it as a reaction to getting the shots again. After I was done in the bathroom I went to the sink to wash my hands and check on my drainage tubes. I was shocked to see that my side was covered in blood. I went over to my bed and pulled back the sheets. There was a large area of blood on the bed as well. I called the nurse. They got me cleaned up and my bedding changed. They assured me that everything was okay and that it looked like more blood than it really was. I went back to sleep. A couple of hours later I woke up very lightheaded and a little woozy. Once again I got up to go to the bathroom and right away noticed the huge pool of blood on my bad. Again, I called the nurse. They came in and cleaned me up yet again, trying to put a little more pressure with thick amounts of gauze under my binder. The doctor was called. When she came to see me I had lost quite a bit of blood. She used some kind of suction device that hooked up to my drainage tubes to suck the excess blood out of my body. It turns out that the Lovenox had a very strange and unusual side effect on me. Leave it to me to have something bazaar and out of the ordinary happen. My parents are STILL looking for that zipper that proves I'm an alien.
Over the next several hours I had to have blood draws. The doctor wanted to give me a transfusion, but I REALLY didn't want that. I asked her if there was anything else we could try first. She started me on iron tablets three times a day and ordered IV iron. I had two courses of IV iron. Yet another strange side effect - I started tasting walnut brownies! The nurse said that was the first time she had heard that one. Silver lining - at dinner that evening there just happened to be a walnut brownie on my tray for dessert! What are the odds? After a couple of blood draws that showed my levels were still dropping the doctor once again tried to talk me into a transfusion. We came to the agreement that if my next blood draw dropped again I would go through with the transfusion. THANK GOD that next blood draw showed improvement in my levels. The IV iron and the iron tablets three times a day had worked. I was finally improving. The bleeding had stopped, my levels looked good, and my Coumadin was therapeutic. I was finally going home.
Getting the Kids Involved
At the end of the school week, Easter weekend, we decided to sit the kids down and tell them what was going on. After everything else I had already been through this was going to be IMPOSSIBLE to keep from the kids, especially since I was being admitted to the hospital on Monday. It was actually easier than I thought it would be. We sat all the kids down and told them that Mommy had to go in for more surgery. I told them that I had cancer and needed the surgery to get rid of it. I asked them if they understood what was going on with me and did they have any questions about it. The youngest, who was five, didn't understand what any of it meant, which was probably a good thing. It really didn't affect him in any way. He just asked if Mommy was going to die and when we told him everything was going to be okay he went about playing. The middle child, who was eleven, was quiet as usual. He said he understood what was going on and that I was going to be okay. The oldest, who was 14, leaned toward her grandmother and started crying. She understood what I was going through, but wanted to know how this would affect her. I told her it wouldn't affect her as there was no other family history and what I had was most likely due to all the stress I had been under.
Later that night, after we got home, the kids went about their usual activities. I pulled out the pamphlet with wigs and hats that I picked up at the doctor's office and asked my daughter to help me pick out a good style and color wig for me. We went through the pamphlet together and discussed what might look good on me. I think it made her feel a little better to be a part of the process. She did see a few hats that she wanted. My eleven-year-old later came over and also looked through the pamphlet with me. Looking through the pamphlet with me gave the kids a sense that they were helping take care of me.
The next day the kids helped me to get my things together and packed for the hospital. Later that day we went shopping for the few things I still needed. While at the store my daughter agreed that she would wear a pink blouse (she HATES that color) on the day of my surgery.
Monday morning we got the kids up and ready for school. The youngest stayed the night with Grandmother since we had to be at the hospital before he had to be to Pre-K. My husband left with my daughter to drop her off at her school. I was home with my son getting him ready to get on his bus for school. He broke down and started crying. I asked him what was wrong and got the usual response - "I don't know". I finally got out of him that he wanted to go with my husband and I to the hospital. He wanted to make sure I was doing okay. I called his school to let them know what was going on. They told me that they thought it was a good idea and not to worry. It was raining pretty heavy that morning. It was actually nice having Anthony with us to help us carry in all my bags. He stayed the whole day with me trying to make my room feel comfortable and a little like home. He drew his Bob-the-Monkey creation on the dry erase board for me and also in a notebook I had with me. Around dinner time he left with my husband, feeling much better about leaving me alone.
As soon as school began the counselor at my daughter's school called her to her office. She spoke with her about what was happening to me and let her know she was there for her. The counselor told her that if she started feeling sad or scared about what was happening to me that she could tell her teachers she needed to see the counselor and they would let her go. The counselor also sent an e-mail to all of her teachers letting them know what was going on so they would know. When I later talked to my daughter about her visit to the counselor she was smiling and said "She gave me chocolate". Anything to make my Baby Girl smile!!!
The next school day the same thing happened for my son. After school started his counselor called him into her office for the same discussion. She also sent an e-mail to his teachers to let them know what was going on. He also received chocolate. Anything to make my Cuddlebug smile!!!
Later that night, after we got home, the kids went about their usual activities. I pulled out the pamphlet with wigs and hats that I picked up at the doctor's office and asked my daughter to help me pick out a good style and color wig for me. We went through the pamphlet together and discussed what might look good on me. I think it made her feel a little better to be a part of the process. She did see a few hats that she wanted. My eleven-year-old later came over and also looked through the pamphlet with me. Looking through the pamphlet with me gave the kids a sense that they were helping take care of me.
The next day the kids helped me to get my things together and packed for the hospital. Later that day we went shopping for the few things I still needed. While at the store my daughter agreed that she would wear a pink blouse (she HATES that color) on the day of my surgery.
Monday morning we got the kids up and ready for school. The youngest stayed the night with Grandmother since we had to be at the hospital before he had to be to Pre-K. My husband left with my daughter to drop her off at her school. I was home with my son getting him ready to get on his bus for school. He broke down and started crying. I asked him what was wrong and got the usual response - "I don't know". I finally got out of him that he wanted to go with my husband and I to the hospital. He wanted to make sure I was doing okay. I called his school to let them know what was going on. They told me that they thought it was a good idea and not to worry. It was raining pretty heavy that morning. It was actually nice having Anthony with us to help us carry in all my bags. He stayed the whole day with me trying to make my room feel comfortable and a little like home. He drew his Bob-the-Monkey creation on the dry erase board for me and also in a notebook I had with me. Around dinner time he left with my husband, feeling much better about leaving me alone.
As soon as school began the counselor at my daughter's school called her to her office. She spoke with her about what was happening to me and let her know she was there for her. The counselor told her that if she started feeling sad or scared about what was happening to me that she could tell her teachers she needed to see the counselor and they would let her go. The counselor also sent an e-mail to all of her teachers letting them know what was going on so they would know. When I later talked to my daughter about her visit to the counselor she was smiling and said "She gave me chocolate". Anything to make my Baby Girl smile!!!
The next school day the same thing happened for my son. After school started his counselor called him into her office for the same discussion. She also sent an e-mail to his teachers to let them know what was going on. He also received chocolate. Anything to make my Cuddlebug smile!!!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
The Worst Birthday Present EVER!!!
Six weeks after the CT scan that revealed a possible issue in my breast I had a mammogram. I went to the mammogram by myself as you usually just go for the imaging and go home. This was not the typical mammogram visit. While the technician was taking the images Dr. Yi was in his office viewing them. When the mammogram was finished the tech asked me to have a seat in the waiting area. A few minutes later Dr. Yi came out to talk to me. He sat on the table in front of me and began the conversation by beating around the bush. He wouldn't come right out and tell me what he saw. Finally, he asked me how I wanted him to speak to me about his findings. I told him that I am the type of person who wants straight talk. I don't want someone to tippy-toe around the truth. He then proceeded to tell me that he was greater than 50% sure I had breast cancer. He then took me to the next office over for an ultrasound of the area. He was even more sure of his diagnosis. Before I left his office that day he had Lisa from the Surgical Center come speak to me about what was next. Because I was on blood thinners I would have to come off of them for a biopsy. My appointment was set for the next morning at 10:00 a.m.
As I was leaving the hospital I called my mom. It was very difficult for me to talk to her. I asked her if she would come pick me up and take me to her house (remember, I drove myself not knowing what to expect). I then called my husband to tell him I wasn't coming straight home because I didn't want my children to see me upset. I wasn't ready for them to know what was going on as I really wasn't positive myself. My mom took me to dinner and then home with her for a little bit. I went home feeling a little bit better about my situation.
The next morning I met with Dr. Labbe (sounded lah-bay). She reviewed my mammogram and ultrasound and then did a manual breast exam. She told me that she didn't feel that it was breast cancer because she couldn't palpate the lumps on exam and that she felt the left breast felt lumpier. We discussed the biopsy and scheduled the date. It was scheduled for the following Monday as I needed the weekend to come off the blood thinners. As I have many allergies, I knew the local anesthesia would cause me some problems. The morning of the biopsy I took a Phenergan for nausea and a Xanax to calm the anxiety the anesthesia causes.
Quick Side Note: The ultrasound revealed that the little blip on the CT scan six weeks earlier was now two lumps that couldn't be palpated by either doctor.
By Wednesday Dr. Labbe had called and left a message that the results were in and she wanted me to come see her the next day so that I could stop worrying about the results. I immediately called my mom feeling the anxiety as I know better than to think a doctor is going to call me herself and after hours (she called after 6:00 p.m.). We prayed that God's will be done and that the results would be according to His will in my life. The next day just happened to be my mom's birthday and a day I would never forget - April 9, 2009. My husband and I met with Dr. Labbe alone first. She first told me that she was hopeful that she was right about it being noncancerous. Unfortunately, that wasn't the news she had. She said that both tumors were cancerous and included about six inches of breast tissue between the tumors. She then discussed the surgery that was mandatory for me to have. Amazingly, she had already discussed my case with the surgical team as soon as she received the results and already had my surgery scheduled. I was to admit to the hospital the following Monday to be taken off Coumadin and placed on a Heparin drip before my surgery on Thursday.
After discussing everything that was happening and going to happen I asked Dr. Labbe if we could bring my parents to the room to break the news rather than do it in the lobby. The second they walked into the room they knew the results. My mom came over to hug me and tell me that I am never again allowed to give her a birthday present as she didn't like this one too much. I was really hoping to give her good news on her birthday. The hardest thing to do after this appointment was to hold ourselves together for the kids. I didn't want to tell them anything until Friday night as I wanted them to be able to finish the school week and take their tests with a clear head. With ALOT of help from God we managed to keep our emotions in check. The next day I visited each of the kids' schools and spoke with their guidance counselors. I was shocked to here that they too had battled cancer. They were very supportive and told me they would bring the kids in their offices on Monday to counsel them about what I was going through.
As I was leaving the hospital I called my mom. It was very difficult for me to talk to her. I asked her if she would come pick me up and take me to her house (remember, I drove myself not knowing what to expect). I then called my husband to tell him I wasn't coming straight home because I didn't want my children to see me upset. I wasn't ready for them to know what was going on as I really wasn't positive myself. My mom took me to dinner and then home with her for a little bit. I went home feeling a little bit better about my situation.
The next morning I met with Dr. Labbe (sounded lah-bay). She reviewed my mammogram and ultrasound and then did a manual breast exam. She told me that she didn't feel that it was breast cancer because she couldn't palpate the lumps on exam and that she felt the left breast felt lumpier. We discussed the biopsy and scheduled the date. It was scheduled for the following Monday as I needed the weekend to come off the blood thinners. As I have many allergies, I knew the local anesthesia would cause me some problems. The morning of the biopsy I took a Phenergan for nausea and a Xanax to calm the anxiety the anesthesia causes.
Quick Side Note: The ultrasound revealed that the little blip on the CT scan six weeks earlier was now two lumps that couldn't be palpated by either doctor.
By Wednesday Dr. Labbe had called and left a message that the results were in and she wanted me to come see her the next day so that I could stop worrying about the results. I immediately called my mom feeling the anxiety as I know better than to think a doctor is going to call me herself and after hours (she called after 6:00 p.m.). We prayed that God's will be done and that the results would be according to His will in my life. The next day just happened to be my mom's birthday and a day I would never forget - April 9, 2009. My husband and I met with Dr. Labbe alone first. She first told me that she was hopeful that she was right about it being noncancerous. Unfortunately, that wasn't the news she had. She said that both tumors were cancerous and included about six inches of breast tissue between the tumors. She then discussed the surgery that was mandatory for me to have. Amazingly, she had already discussed my case with the surgical team as soon as she received the results and already had my surgery scheduled. I was to admit to the hospital the following Monday to be taken off Coumadin and placed on a Heparin drip before my surgery on Thursday.
After discussing everything that was happening and going to happen I asked Dr. Labbe if we could bring my parents to the room to break the news rather than do it in the lobby. The second they walked into the room they knew the results. My mom came over to hug me and tell me that I am never again allowed to give her a birthday present as she didn't like this one too much. I was really hoping to give her good news on her birthday. The hardest thing to do after this appointment was to hold ourselves together for the kids. I didn't want to tell them anything until Friday night as I wanted them to be able to finish the school week and take their tests with a clear head. With ALOT of help from God we managed to keep our emotions in check. The next day I visited each of the kids' schools and spoke with their guidance counselors. I was shocked to here that they too had battled cancer. They were very supportive and told me they would bring the kids in their offices on Monday to counsel them about what I was going through.
In the Beginning
It all began with a blood clot! Around October of 2008 I began having severe pains that sent me to the Emergency Room a few times. Finally, in December, an ER doctor decided to send me for an MRI. It revealed something extremely startling (mostly because the pain was on the opposite side of what was discovered). I was told that my ovary was enlarged (approx. 5 cm). I decided I needed to know what the doctor was thinking (NOT recommended). What I found scared me. I went to my husband looking like I had just seen a ghost. I found out that an enlarged ovary meant that I had terminal ovarian cancer. The information I found stated that if they ovary was already 5 cm or more the cancer was already spread.
I was VERY relieved when I went for an ultrasound and found out the ovary was normal. The images showed an enlarged ovarian cyst (about the size of a large grapefruit). This I was okay with as I had the same thing almost 20 years ago (age 18) on the right side that resulted in a right oophorectomy (removal of the ovary). The reason the ER doctor thought it was the ovary is it was overshadowed by the cyst.
The discovery of the cyst prompted the first of three surgeries. The first surgery was February 2, 2009. This resulted in a complete hysterectomy and a tummy tuck. Because I have a number of drug allergies, this was a very difficult surgery to recover from. I was in the hospital a couple of days longer than expected because of allergic reactions. Everything seemed to be going well until the morning of Valentine's Day. During the night I had a nightmare that I was being strangled, which, of course, woke me up in a cold sweat. I was so afraid to go back to sleep. Eventually I fell asleep again. About 8:00 a.m. I woke up gasping for air. My husband took me to the Emergency Room. I thought I was there for an allergic reaction. After MANY tests the ER doctor sent me for an abdominal CT. Once again, the results were shocking. I was told that I had a blood clot in my right lung. They also told me that they saw something in my right breast that they felt could just be scar tissue as I had a lump removed when I was about 22 years old.
By this time my husband had left to get ready for work and my mother had shown up to sit with me. When the doctor gave us the news and said he would be admitting me to the hospital I could see my mom trying hard to fight her emotions so she didn't upset me. She immediately picked up the phone and called a friend who immediately put my name on prayer lists. My mom left the room to have her conversation while I talked to the doctor, but I knew she really left because she needed to cry. While she was gone I used the time to have a little one-on-one with God. By the time my mom returned to the room I felt totally at peace. I felt that God was totally in control and I had nothing to fear. I just knew everything was going to be okay.
Miraculously, two weeks later, after starting blood thinners, the clot was totally gone. This was definitely God as it takes a number of weeks for a blood clot to completely disappear. The doctor put in a referral for a mammogram just to be sure there was nothing going on with the spot on the CT scan. I didn't schedule the mammogram right away as I still had six weeks to heal from my first surgery.
I was VERY relieved when I went for an ultrasound and found out the ovary was normal. The images showed an enlarged ovarian cyst (about the size of a large grapefruit). This I was okay with as I had the same thing almost 20 years ago (age 18) on the right side that resulted in a right oophorectomy (removal of the ovary). The reason the ER doctor thought it was the ovary is it was overshadowed by the cyst.
The discovery of the cyst prompted the first of three surgeries. The first surgery was February 2, 2009. This resulted in a complete hysterectomy and a tummy tuck. Because I have a number of drug allergies, this was a very difficult surgery to recover from. I was in the hospital a couple of days longer than expected because of allergic reactions. Everything seemed to be going well until the morning of Valentine's Day. During the night I had a nightmare that I was being strangled, which, of course, woke me up in a cold sweat. I was so afraid to go back to sleep. Eventually I fell asleep again. About 8:00 a.m. I woke up gasping for air. My husband took me to the Emergency Room. I thought I was there for an allergic reaction. After MANY tests the ER doctor sent me for an abdominal CT. Once again, the results were shocking. I was told that I had a blood clot in my right lung. They also told me that they saw something in my right breast that they felt could just be scar tissue as I had a lump removed when I was about 22 years old.
By this time my husband had left to get ready for work and my mother had shown up to sit with me. When the doctor gave us the news and said he would be admitting me to the hospital I could see my mom trying hard to fight her emotions so she didn't upset me. She immediately picked up the phone and called a friend who immediately put my name on prayer lists. My mom left the room to have her conversation while I talked to the doctor, but I knew she really left because she needed to cry. While she was gone I used the time to have a little one-on-one with God. By the time my mom returned to the room I felt totally at peace. I felt that God was totally in control and I had nothing to fear. I just knew everything was going to be okay.
Miraculously, two weeks later, after starting blood thinners, the clot was totally gone. This was definitely God as it takes a number of weeks for a blood clot to completely disappear. The doctor put in a referral for a mammogram just to be sure there was nothing going on with the spot on the CT scan. I didn't schedule the mammogram right away as I still had six weeks to heal from my first surgery.
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