~ ~ Turning Back Time ~ ~

I can't believe it has been a year since I got sick...it's been a month of anniversaries for me, with a few more to come...

I took this picture of my little family last year on March 1st. Little did I know that a week later I'd be fighting for my life.




On March 6, 2009 I had a bad stomach ache. After a trip to the ER and a diagnosis of a ruptured ovary, I returned home. After an extremely long 48 hours, on March 8th I returned to the ER in the most severe pain I have ever (and hope to never again) experienced. Intense stuff. By the morning of March 9th I looked a lot worse than this...




I was unconcious from March 8th to March 17th, and these were my life support during that time:






Then on March 17, St. Patricks Day 2009 I woke up to a very confusing situation, but a lot of smiling faces. I remember looking out of my eyes as though I was locked in place. I couldn't move much more than lifting a hand, or wiggling a foot. Thad was beaming. I couldn't imagine why he looked so happy, but I learned later, it was because of where I'd been to where I was...much improved, Thad was glad to see a conscious me.

I quickly learned that it wasn't the 10th (which I'd guessed initially) but that I'd actually missed over a week of my life only remembering a few blips of faces, like flipping through TV channels. I remember these 'TV channel' moments waking up to pain on my thigh and hearing something about a spa treatment (the nurses were pulling tape off of me, because of my sensitive skin it ripped my skin off with it, which woke me briefly...) and then seeing my Thad in his suit wearing his blue tie (he'd intended on going to church, but ended up staying with me and I saw him smiling at me for only a few moments, and I was out again).

March 17th St. Patrick's Day. It was startling to learn that I'd missed so much time. My mind was flooded with all that I'd missed. The girls were supposed to start swimming lessons, they were missing gymnastics, were my parents there? I was supposed to pick them up at the Madison airport! I'd missed St. Patrick's Day -- which I'd planned to do some fun homeschool activities with the girls..but the point was moot since I was intubated and very weak. My only means of communication was blinking, and I am sure that was the furthest thing from everyone else's mind. I resolved that there was nothing I could do about it and remember thinking, "Oh well."




The whites of my eyes were completely red. I had no idea, since my sight was fine, but I remember a cute nurse coming in and saying, "What happened to your eyes?" I had no idea, so I said, "I don't know, what happened to my eyes?" And the nurse shrunk back, obviously feeling bad that she'd pointed out something that I was unaware of. I wondered what else I didn't yet know.




This was the room that Thad "lived" in for many, many long days. He remembers being at our house and talking to his sister and saying something about "going home" when he realized he'd just called the hospital home. Indeed, he'd already spent too much time there with me.




I thankfully continued to improve. Definitely baby step by baby step. It was a very long process. The very first time they sat me up in bed--no kidding--it was the hardest thing I'd ever done. It was beyond miserable. I thought they were all insane for sitting me up. I was exhausted, and they want me to sit?!?!? From what I'd been told, my body had been running a marathon since the week before. The docs were surprised that my heart had held-up to the long intense 'work-out' (150 minimum bpm for 3+ days). Needless to say, I sat for about five seconds, and had to lay down again. My ICU experience consisted of major sticky/dry mouth, extreme thirst, hallucinations, and forgetting how to read and tell time. It was frightening.

Eventually I improved enough to be moved out of the ICU to the regular hospital room. There I remember the pepto-bismol pink vertical blinds, and pink & teal wallpaper straight out of the early 80's. I was fighting a constant case of extreme nausea, and the pepto-pink blinds weren't helping. I couldn't handle any food at all--even food commercials made me want to puke.They insisted on a 'thickened' diet for me. Have you ever drank THICK Sprite? How about THICK orange juice? Ugh! It was disgusting. I am surprised I still like Sprite.

My breathing continued quick and labored. It felt like I had 12 bricks on my chest. The docs relieved my lungs a couple different times by stabbing me in the back (thorocentesis) and draining off quarts of liquid & blood. After doing that a couple of times, there eventually was talk of a second surgery. My lungs weren't improving, and they were getting after me about my shallow breathing and high heart rate. I was NOT looking forward to that, especially since I wasn't sure my body could take it after all I'd been through at that point.

Little did I know, that was my turning point. Although I ended up BACK in the ICU, I felt like a new person. I could breathe again, and I wasn't nearly as nauseated. I finally felt somewhat like a person again. They'd opened up my right lung, scraped out all the buildup of fluid, blood, stuff, etc., unpeeled my crunched up, collapsed lung and re-inflated it. I felt so, SO, so much better.

From there, it was hours and hours of dialysis, physical therapy, and trying to eat enough calories that the nutritionists would be happy with me. Food was really a struggle especially after eating a meal of pills three or four times a day.

My birthday came, April 8th (I'd hoped to be out, but I still had a long way to go...) I was surprised during dialysis with a visit from Thad, the girls, his brother Taylor (who had gotten off his mission the day I went into the hospital), sister Melissa (my girls' mom during my month hospital stay) and his parents. I got a ton of attention on my birthday, and besides the circumstances, it really was one of the best birthday's I've ever had.

Surprise! (The following pictures were taken from video, so they're a little pixelated.)




(Notice my big chocolate cake on the table. I couldn't eat more than a bite of it - isn't that sad? Though, I fully intend on making up for it this year, because I'll have my cake, and eat it, too!)




I missed my girls terribly...though I knew they were in good hands, it was hard to be away from them so long. Emery, especially struggled because she didn't understand. When she first saw me she wanted nothing to do with me--which was understandable since I'd lost a lot of hair, and my eyes were still red. Even Audry was drawing pictures of me with red eyes and no hair (In her picture I looked like Voldemort.)

I appreciated some chill time with my girls. My older two were having a blast sleeping over at friends' houses and all the fun cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents that came to visit. But after a few weeks, they started to need me again, so I'd have a little one-on-one time with them. One on one was better for all of us, I would get tired so fast when all three were there.




Finally the day came that I could go home. It was bittersweet. I was scared to try to get back to normal. I could walk again, but stairs were very difficult, and I could do very little for myself. The doctors, nursing staff and physical therapists had all become like family.

On April 15th, 2009 was my release date. This was our little procession of balloons and 'schtuff' I'd really moved in to the hospital room after over five weeks of being there. I couldn't believe I was going home!






Emery kept her eyes on me making sure I was coming along, too. She wouldn't even get in the van to let Thad bring the van around. She wasn't going anywhere without me, which made me feel better about her being shy around me in the beginning.




Finally, a real hug from Thad. I realized how much I missed being able to hug Thad in a standing position. It had been over a month since I'd had a good hug like this one...thanks for capturing the moment, Melissa!




I rolled the window down on the way home--we went the long way, it was my first official breath of Spring. It's amazing how truly FRESH, fresh air is! I enjoyed it so much, that I insisted on sitting on the porch to watch the kids play when we got home. I still really needed some outside time.




SO to celebrate my anniversary, for St. Patrick's Day, I did all the things I'd planned to do the year before. I think I could officially call it therapy for me; being able to do all those things I missed last year.

We had green milk in our cereal...






And we had a leprechan treasure hunt... (yes, I can see, I need to clean my oven...that's probably been a year, too!)




The girls followed shamrock clues:




And found gold! (Popcicles, books, yellow M&M's and green Mardi Gras beads.)




It was fun for all of us.




I've had a bit of anxiety this year, wondering what Spring would bring...turns out it brought Shingles for me and as a result....




Chicken Pox for Emery! She's not vaccinated, and my other girls were, so little Emery was covered in spots for a few weeks. But she was very happy through the infection, and managed to itch very little.






After the Varicella outbreak, we've enjoyed the Spring and have been able to relax a little. This week we colored Easter eggs. The girls had a great time doing it!








After two dozen eggs, I managed to color ONE egg, not quite what I'd hoped for, but oh well.






Thanks to my wonderful Thad whom I love dearly and with all my heart, I am the sane and healthy person I am today.




Happy Easter everyone!