And here we arrive at the final chapter of the great health scare of 2024.
Well, the first one anyway…
We are going to highlight Friday and Sunday in this post, as they were the days of fun and adventure… and the rest were filler days. LOL
The ambulance arrived at the hospital I would be admitted into. The doors opened and a burst of WARM air hit me.
Y’all. You know me! It was February… and it was warm! I was not happy at all. I looked up at the paramedic and mentioned the temperature. It wasn’t fair! It’s warm outside and I’m stuck to a gurney going into a hospital for God knows how long!
“Yeah. It’s supposed to be nice for a few days! Then, cold again.” She said as they wheeled my gurney from the truck to the doors of the ER.
I was too miserable to be upset for long, though. I had been bleeding for weeks, I was barely alert, and I had several feet of gauze shoved up where things don’t need to be shoved to slow the flow of blood.
To shorten the ER part of this tale, I will say that the Dr’s came in, OBGYN department knew I was coming and they knew I was “packed” and they were furious. The first thing they did after drawing yet more blood from my person was get that hot mess out of my body.
And when they did…
Red Niagara! For minutes! And then, Red Lake Michigan (or whatever large body of water) …
Everyone in there was like, “Oh my… whoa. Ok… more blood for you!”
It was then explained to me that my bleeding was internal… and it needed a place to go. So, if the “exit” from my body was closed off, it would start finding other places inside to retreat to. Not good, apparently.
Thankfully, Mom made it there to sit with me during my torture and torment shortly after I arrived in the ambulance. She got all the kiddos ready and off to their respective school destinations before following me up to the hospital.
By now, it’s mid-morning on Friday. I’m exhausted. Depleted. Have nothing left to give, at all. In more ways than one! They got me all set up and sent up to surgery floor for my stay while they decided exactly what was going to be done about my “unique situation” as they called it so many times.
Finally in my room on the 4th floor, I get to meet my nurses for the first time. A time of enormous discomfort for myself, and lots of sympathy for them from me as well.
I was soaked, not functional, unable to even sit up on my own at this point. I tried… gosh I tried! They had to clean me up as soon as I arrived, change my bed, my clothes, put an adult diaper thingy on me because the hemorrhaging was NOT letting up at all, and try to do it ALL while I’m laying in this bed!
Y’all. These nurses got skills!
After the magic they performed getting me and my bed changed out while I was still in it, they were able to reach out to my OBGYN to see if they were going to take out the baby growing system that day. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in 24 hours. Mama was living off whatever was going into my body via IV tubes.
While we waited for word from the Docs, I got set up with more blood, iron infusions, and some other concoction via IV bags to give me some sort of nutrients.
I also got to meet lots of nurses, techs, lab personnel, some student doctors, and other people who apparently couldn’t wait to see the “unique situation” that was in room 409.
Fast forward to that afternoon. The doctor came in and explained how he determined best to handle my situation.
“Between a rock and a hard place” was used to describe me multiple times by all the people I encountered.
My Dr referred to me as “Interesting”, “unique”, “complicated”, and other things as well.
So, let’s review my situation:
I have blood clots in my lungs. I am bleeding. A lot! The bleeding needs to stop. But the concern is the clots… which is as bad (and could be worse). Both needs treated/fixed. But, given that one is total opposite of the other… only one can be treated/fixed at a time.
It was determined that I would be having an ablation procedure to try to slow/stop the bleeding. I would have to be taken off my blood thinners for 2 days prior to the surgery, if possible, but if the bleeding got worse 1 day would do if absolutely necessary.
Every decision maker in my medical case determined that a hysterectomy would make my already difficult situation worse and wanted to do the least alteration possible to my body, get me back on the blood thinners, and on the road to recovery ASAP.
With the plan in place, it was determined that I could finally EAT!
Y’all… I ate whatever they could bring me! Sandwiches, chips, yogurts, crackers, all of it! I munched on those wonderful ice chips that hospitals have for hours in complete bliss!
That evening, a dear friend of my mom and I came to see me and bring a cute flower with a balloon on it to brighten my room. We chatted, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. I remained reclined safely in my bed as any time I would even try to sit up without the bed lifting me my heartrate would jump into the 120’s. Everyone saw it. I was hooked up to all these monitors so they could see anytime my heartrate jumped at the nurse’s desk.
So, that prefaced my next part of the story…
While we were chatting, one of my WONDERFUL nurses came into the room to see if I could get up to go to the bathroom. A: I felt like I needed to and told them so, and B: they needed to see if I could stand on my own two feet.
I could not…
I got up, made it to the bathroom, and mind you I had been doing this at home for two weeks already, not realizing how BAD it was for me to do so…
I make it to the bathroom. I’m dizzy. But man, I had to PEE! So, I start trying to “do my thing” and I hear a phone ring in my room.
Yeah… that was the nurses desk calling my charge nurse to see if I was ALIVE at this point, because (unbeknownst to me) my heart rate was 155 and my BP had bottomed out waaaaaay below readings of anyone who is conscious.
I opened the bathroom door, took one look at my nurse and said, “Yeah… this wasn’t a good idea. I don’t feel well.”
My mother and our dear friend were in the room, eyes fixated on the monitors. My mother’s face was probably as white as mine at this point, obviously not for the same reason, and they were both immobile as the nurse guided me back to my bed.
I collapsed there, dizzy, nauseous, clammy, sweaty, and barely alert at this point.
It took a few minutes for my brain and my body to communicate to each other that I was back in bed and my heart could settle down. But once they did things got a little better by the minute.
More blood. More iron. More blood taken from me to see my counts.
Days of poking, testing, poking, testing, more poking again…
The ablation was done on Sunday morning. I was out for a bit, procedure completed. Pain. Lots of pain. Anxiety and fear that the procedure wouldn’t work. Paranoia. Depression. I missed my kids… a lot!
Thankfully, I had some yarn and my crochet hook with me while I was enjoying my stay at hotel Memorial Hospital. My bestie came to sit and visit the day before I was discharged. She brought her yarn and hook as well, and we got to sit and crochet, sip coffee, and chat about all the happy things in life. It was an uplifting moment during a time when the walls were closing in!
The day I was discharged a dear friend came to visit and bring me coffee. She got to be my ride home, and boy was I GLAD to escape back to my home and my kiddos! That ride home was another uplifting moment in a dark time! We laughed together, caught up with each other on life, and she got to be a witness to another small miracle in my life that will be for another post, another day. I will say this, God’s timing is most definitely impeccable!
Fast forward to today:
The ablation did work. It took months for the effects of the blood clots and then the heavy bleeding to finally fall away, and I do still have some every now and then. But I am doing so much better today than I was 5 months ago!
The support I have received through these months has been amazing! Thank you all for keeping me in thoughts and prayers, and lending assistance while we walked this crazy road!
It also flies when you have no idea what you are doing, or when you have no clue “what just happened here?!”
All the above have been the nutshell of my entire 2024 thus far.
It’s been such a whirlwind that I have no idea where to start!
I know, I know! “Start at the beginning!”
I’ll likely have to do this in parts, due to the amount of writing that will be going into this post. I have a lot of emotions, events, and more that I need to get off my chest, so to speak… so bear with me.
I am going to preface this by saying there will be talk of female issues, medical issues, hospital stays, and a little trauma.
You have now been warned…
Instead of the beginning I shall start at the end… of 2023 that is.
After Christmas, I saw my doctor to talk about options for helping with my HORRIBLE periods, because I was about to do my office rotation for work and my monthly was going to fall on the day I started said rotation. Not good.
After considering my options, I made an informed decision to begin a birth control to help with the situation. I was happy about my choice, and excited to see if this was finally the answer I had been searching for with my situation!
And thus, the journey began…
Things were going well. January came and my rotation began on January 16.
I started to feel sluggish, low on energy, and had minor difficulty with breathing now and then. Everyone else was catching the Flu, Covid, and adults were struggling with RSV as well in my area. I figured I was catching something and didn’t think about it.
Well, I never ran a fever, and I never had any of the other symptoms everyone else was having. It was fatigue and chest tightness for me.
After a week of it getting progressively worse, I made an appointment with my Dr to get it figured out.
After being told I have aggressive allergies, based on my symptoms I agreed, I was given prescription and sent on my way.
My symptoms continued to get worse. To the point that getting off my bed set my heart rate into the 130’s and my ability to breathe without pain was much, much less.
Two days later, I was in the ER. I was worse. In the defense of the doctors, I had only been on my meds for 36 hours and we all know that’s not long enough for basic medication.
The ER agreed with the first diagnosis, again understandable because of the symptoms, and I was given a steroid shot and some steroids to take along with the other medications. That was Wednesday night.
Thursday morning, January 25, I could not get up without my heart rate hitting the 140’s, and all I did was get off my bed to use the bathroom. Sitting up in a chair had my heartrate in the 120’s, and it would not go down! I was getting nervous at this point, and I called off work that morning.
By that afternoon, I knew something was off. Way off!
That evening, Levi drove me to the hospital again, 20 hours after I was there the first time.
The same ER staff was there who was there the night before, and we all shared a giggle at seeing each other again so soon.
After listening to my new and worsening symptoms, they decided to do some extra testing. This is when they found several blood clots in my lungs. But we are getting ahead of ourselves here. This is where the emotions and mental strain comes in…
Levi sat with me all night long. He never fell asleep. He sat up and played on his phone, played on my phone, we talked and had some good chuckles and whatnot.
Around 8am my dad picked him up from the hospital and I told him to just go home and sleep instead of going to school. The poor kid was a zombie! And he was so diligent keeping an eye on his mama.
My sister drops in to see me after her shift working midnights, and it was just after Levi walked out and she walked in that the ER Dr came in to tell me, “I have bad news…”
Now, everyone agrees that it was definitely divine intervention that took Levi home and my sister came to the room minutes before that Dr came in, because she was a ROCK! My sister is superwoman!
As the Dr began to explain what was found and what the treatment would be, I spaced out entirely. I went numb. Shock, maybe? I don’t know. But she saw it, and she kept her eyes on me while listening to this man speak. When I came back to reality JUST enough, she caught my eye and held her hand up toward me and said, “You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” And at that point the Dr, who (bless his heart) was just rambling on stopped and looked at my stunned self and repeated her words. He reassured me that they were going to do some medications to help with the clots instantly, admit me for a day or two to keep me monitored, and then send me home with blood thinners.
It was at this point he started talking about what can cause blood clots. Anything from a blood disorder to some other stuff, and then he said “extra hormones” and both me and my sister straightened up, looking at each other with that “Ah Yes!” expression. The Dr noticed and asked, and I told him about the BC I am on. “Ok, get that out now! I’ll give you privacy and get your admit paperwork started.” He said as he jumped quickly from his chair. Honestly, I giggled because he acted like he was being chased from the room by the very mention of the Nuva Ring. Haha!
My mom arrived shortly after, once she saw all the kiddos to their school locations, and my sister said she would meet her in the waiting room to give her the update. I’m glad she did. Again, my sister was the hero of the morning when she told Mom what was going on and kept everyone nice and calm about the situation.
I was admitted to that hospital for observation, heart monitors and wires all attached to me. I went along with everything everyone was doing. Mom sat with me in the hospital room as I was being admitted, endured all the questions and answers, and watched as they gave me my first shots and vital checks after admit into the room.
Y’all… I slept better there than I had in WEEKS!!
Probably because I was sick and getting worse, and the medications stopped that from happening, plus it was VERY quiet where I was all day and all night, and at home it is always the absolute opposite of quiet.
When I was released back home I was on Blood Thinners and instructions to follow up with doctors after release.
I did see my primary after all of this and we talked about what had happened, what was expected, and what we would be doing during that time in between.
And then I went home feeling like I was going to be okay, but still a little worried about the upcoming menstrual cycle that would be happening not long after…
And four days later, it did.
And this is where I leave you for this first chapter. Don’t hate the messenger. I’m just typing when I get time! LOL!
We will continue with the next post, as it will be as long, or longer, than this one!!
I miss activities, adventures, groups, friends, connections, etc.
Last night there was a football game at our high school. I have two boys who attend that school.
We did not go…
Last year, one of my sons expressed great interest in joining the football team, even took some steps to get there…
All the forward movement was halted when he had a sports physical that resulted in questions about his progress in puberty. He is less than three months from his fifteenth birthday.
There is no puberty.
Never was.
No signs of it even starting.
Instead, there is a nonactive tumor squishing his pituitary gland.
This is not about that, though. That is an entirely different story in itself.
This is about missing out… and trying to figure out why, how, and if we can fix this problem.
Yes, I’m being transparent here.
There’s a lot to say. There’s a lot to be transparent about.
Why? Because I know I’m NOT the only one who struggles with this, exact issue regarding “missing out.”
Let’s go back a few years (Okay maybe a decade or more…) when I was an active member of society.
I had high hopes and dreams for a future with kids in sports, clubs, doing all the things I was able to do as a child and even more! Cub Scouts, Sunday School, youth groups, school sports, little league sports, all the things.
Life threw a curve ball here and there… well, it threw a LOT of them.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I know everyone gets curve balls thrown at them! Again, major reason we are being transparent here…
I’m not special. My struggles are not “bigger than yours” but everyone handles every level of stress, negative life events, loss, and betrayals differently.
Me? Yeah… I hid from the world.
Long story short, a decade of less-than-healthy choices (both external and internal choices) lead me to isolating myself.
I was sad when those close to me didn’t get involved with the things I was so excited about for my kids. I was overworked being the only one who took them to events, helped with homework, projects, socializing them, etc. I was already struggling with my own depression and to add burn-out to the pile just shut me down.
And shut down I remained… for a solid three years. Minimum.
I hid myself and my family from the world.
I was tired of hearing falsehoods about myself and my family from people who didn’t even know me.
I was tired of being seen at the grocery store and then hearing a whole, new rumor about myself a week later from “concerned friends.”
I was tired of carrying a label. I was “the bad guy” in a lot of things. Everywhere I turned I didn’t see “friends” anymore. I saw spies. I saw liars. I saw betrayal at every turn.
Eventually, I stopped seeing anything good.
My vision was murky with pain, heartache, anxiety, depression, loss, and eventually… full-blown bitterness.
Bitter Becca. That’s what I dubbed myself.
Yep. I did. I wore my own title like a badge and shield.
It has taken me years to grow from the little, broken roots that I was cut down into.
Four years, to be exact.
I would take a step forward and then two steps back over the course of the past four years. Sometimes I would break even, and I would get so excited! Then another step back.
Of my 5 children, two are in special education classes. I have often wondered if I could have done something to prevent this from happening for them. Was it me? Did I not work hard enough to get them through to a higher level?
They don’t have many friends, limited to the ones secluded in these classrooms with them for their entire academic life.
My one, school-aged child who is not in such classes struggles with depression (possibly related to the puberty issue? We don’t really know), also very few friends, and the inability to follow through with many things. Again, I sit and wonder if I have ‘less-than-succeeded’ with him as well.
I lived years without taking my kids into society. School was it. They never asked to go to games, events, trips, etc.
My oldest did go to a couple of dances during Junior High, before Covid stole that from us. To see his face light up the way it did when he got home, telling stories about how fun the music was, learning some cool moves, the snacks and drinks they got to enjoy made my heart so glad.
Sometimes I wonder how that could be 4 years ago…
I sit in my bed, unable to sleep many nights, and reflect on things. I write in my journal, make lists in my notebooks, read books and my Bible, scroll FB and watch a world around me be social and active, and I have cried.
Not tears of depression.
Tears of fear. Actual Fear.
Because I want to go. I want to get out there.
But I have come so far mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually in my little isolated space that the thought of stepping out and ending up with another “step back” wrenches my gut!
My family, and my few, close friends can tell stories of me being excited about a thing and then talking myself out of it within minutes.
I want to be involved. I want my kids to be involved.
I’m just trying to figure out how to push past my fear. Fear that developed a lack of interest, motivation, and increased avoidance of public places and events.
My fears used to be focused solely on people talking. Over time it just became a fear of people, period.
I will say that I am happy Child #3 expressed interest in participating in the Labor Day Parade last week with his aunt. And he obviously had a blast!
My oldest expressed a renewed interest in music last night. Band, specifically.
In elementary school he wanted to be in the band. He struggled with the multi-step instructions and music reading, resulting in his not being given that desired opportunity.
He mentioned it again last night as we watched the band prepare for the football game.
My boys attend an e-sports group after school on some days, and yesterday happened to be one. As I was picking them up, people were arriving to the school to prepare for the game.
I mean… is it too late? Is he too old? Did I cause him to lose out on opportunities in life? These are questions I ask myself at night when I am alone in my room.
Can I turn some things around, upside right, and build us up from where we stand today?
I think I can one minute and then I question myself the next.
So, here in my transparent moment, I want to step up and step out.
Maybe the next football game, I won’t talk myself out of going.
Take a step. And then take another.
Someone recently told me that first steps are hard, and she is right. But they are necessary to keep going forward.
And like a baby learning to walk, I took my first ones a little shaky.
If there is anyone out there who is struggling, whether it be anxiety like me, addiction, depression, fear, or anything…
Just know I’m taking some first steps too.
We can start together.
And… we can make it to the top together.
I almost feel super pumped right now. Haha!
I just want to raise my fist in the air today and say “by golly I’m going to socialize! In person!”
And when I finally do… I’ll let you know how it goes. 😊
Thank you for enduring my transparent moment for the day.
The end of the Covid Journey has finally come for the children! The time has come to open windows, doors, pull out the Lysol, Clorox, Fresheners, SCENTSY WAX AND WARMERS, and room sprays! Brooms, mops, laundry detergent, and varying soaps abound!
Now, for all of you who know me well… my house might get clean one room at a time… but once I move to the next room, the previous will be dirty all over again. Sometimes because I’m that slow getting there, but mostly because my tiny tornadoes are that quick at “normalizing” my freshly sparkled surfaces! Haha!
Cleaning and sanitizing aside, I know everyone wants to know how the household is faring thus far…
Titus lost his sense of taste and smell for a total of 24 hours, and had SLIGHT body cramping for about 6 hours. All in the same day. He’s been fine since.
Micah was pretty much out of the woods by the day after they tested. His chief complaint was his throat, and it was pretty bad. He did have the cough for a few days, and several nights through the night. Other than that, he never ran a fever, never had any other issues, and is doing QUITE well now!
Rayne… same as Titus as far as outward issues. She did have a scratchy voice for several days, and acted like she was hurting “somewhere” for about 48 hours.
Asher had the nastiest poo diapers anyone has ever seen in this family for about 5 days! Y’all… it was GROSS!! He bounced back from that, and a slight nighttime cough for a few nights, and has been on top of the world (but under Rayne) ever since!
I never tested positive… but I was sick. Who knows if I actually had it or not, but I was just as bad as Micah for several days. And, given that EVERYONE else in my house had Covid… I think I had false negatives. But I digress…
Levi is coming back to his own on a gradual pace. He was released to go back to school Monday, and when he got home Monday afternoon he crashed… hard. He slept the entire afternoon, evening, and then off and on the whole night into Tuesday morning. He has a very slight lingering cough, nothing rough. His voice still sounds raspy and congested. But overall, he’s improved greatly!
My darling grandmother doesn’t have Covid either… but her annual bronchitis has made its glorious return to her life, and she’s getting better by the day with her medication and PLENTY of outdoor time! Because… what’s going to stop Granny from going outside and working in her flowers?
Yeah… exactly.
Today was the first day I was able to work from home with no kids here until 3pm. I almost didn’t know what to do with myself! I had to turn up some music to cover the silence that was all around me! I got laundry done during breaks, and cleaned the dining room, living room, and hallway during lunch. It was glorious!!
Tonight everyone is already in their beds and it’s not even 8:30pm!
WHAT?!
YES!!!
Part of me wants to crawl into my bed and sleep so badly…
Part of me also wants to get a few more things done around the house that I know are necessary as well.
I can’t tell you which part will win tonight. I’m just going to take some time to be extremely thankful that we went through this tunnel with the ease and grace that we did! It could have been A LOT worse!
But it wasn’t.
And I am just sooooo thankful!
I don’t think I want to look at another bottle of Gatorade for a very long time.
I KNOW I don’t want to see, smell, or taste cough syrup again for a LONG time either!
But I am NOT tired of soup!
And we had lots of soup!
In fact, we are doing Chili tomorrow night. At the request of the kiddos!
Ah… children after my own heart!
Until the next time, my friends!
Thank you all for the thoughts and prayers! They worked!
~B~
Ps. Next time we will have a little chat about my fridge going out while we were quarantined… THAT was fun…
It’s 11pm on day… 8 for two of us and day 5 for the rest… I think?
Anyway, here is the update I have the energy for tonight…
We just won’t talk about me until tomorrow night.
Titus was totally a-symptomatic until today. He woke up sore all over and started taking Motrin and Tylenol on a timed schedule all day and seems to be fine this evening. Yay!
Micah is improving. He still has a raggedy cough now and then, and is taking the medication accordingly.
Rayne has a raspy voice, and the gross poo issue.
Asher has had a HORRID diaper rash for two days and he was feverish yesterday. He’s better today.
Levi…
Levi is my concern.
Levi barely leaves his bed except to use the bathroom or get something to drink. He hasn’t eaten food in 24 hours. He was “better” three days after his symptoms started, but as of yesterday (day 7) he started to sink a bit. We are hoping he doesn’t tank on us here…
From the reports I have received from others who’s children his age have had it, they tanked around days 8-10 and it was rough. I’m hoping I’m seeing the worst with him now.
We have cone all we can to keep it at bay, only to get it. And now we are doing all we know to do to keep it as mild as possible.
I’m still working, because the state isn’t giving us Covid time off anymore, as of earlier this month. So I’m doing this whole mess while working from home as well…
Fun times!
Just continue keeping us in your prayers and I’ll hopefully have better news as we continue on this journey.
The little o2 sensor thing has come in handy, to say the least. The medicine is flowing freely. The ice machine is getting a workout like nobody’s business! We have consumed at least 7 containers of Gatorade, several bottles of Body Armor, at least 4 gallons of home-made sweet tea, and countless cups of water and ice over the past few days…
We spend as much time as possible in the sunlight (when the sun is shining, and we are awake simultaneously).
I have made 4 different types of soup so far, and only two of them ended up in the freezer or fridge later for leftovers.
I think the toddlers will kick it faster than anyone, because they are mobile and wreaking havoc all over my house every waking hour. So we are good there. The diaper rash issue is a thing, but likely because of the lack of milk, and the increase in other types of fluids due to the risk of dehydration.
Micah will kick it, too. I am confident he is on the upward trend from it all.
Who knows about Titus… he is a mystery with ANY viral anything. Haha!
Keep Levi in your prayers. His upward rise from this is going to be much slower than anyone’s unless he surprises me and just springs from it in a day… which would be GREAT in my book!
Ok… I’m going to crash while I’m awake enough to remember where my bed is.
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