Wednesday, July 4, 2012

The day I cheated death...

June 6th, 2012 at around 5:30 pm I was almost taken out of this world. WTF right? That is pretty much what me and everyone else said when news spread. June 6th, 2012 I had what is called a sub arachnoid hemorrhage. What this means is a small blood vessel near the back of my brain ruptured causing blood to get into my brain and spinal column. Today is July 3rd and I'm still recovering. Here's the story (Watch out - it's a long one: Wednesday the 6th started out as any other day, woke up, felt fine, went to work, drank my breakfast smoothie, had my healthy lunch on the patio, took my walks, and since I didn’t have a boxing class scheduled that evening I thought I would hit the gym. While at the gym I did back and biceps. Nothing major, nothing strenuous. I was killing time waiting for the bicep curl machine to open up so I could head home since my friend Ber was coming over tonite and we were going to finish watching Game of Thrones. I glanced at the clock and it was 5:30. The machine finally opened up and I did my 3 sets of 12. When I stood up I had the oddest headache wash over me. It was like a whoosh across my head. Painful but not unbearable. "That's odd" I thought. "Maybe I'm dehydrated or something." I started to get annoyed when the headache didn’t subside. I drove home holding my head wondering why this headache seemed to be getting worse. WTF! I entered my home, let the dog out and paced the house holding my head. "This is so weird." I kept thinking. I lay down on the couch. The dog barked to get back in. I got up and let her back in. I was now pouring with sweat and my hands were starting to shake. I considered calling Ber and asking what her headaches are like when the shaking got worse. I shot her a text telling her I wasn’t feeling good and called my mom. I knew she probably wouldn’t answer since she was volunteering at a place she's hoping to get a job, but I am now thinking "I need to go to the ER". She didn’t answer and I lay down again. The headache worsened, the sweating and shaking got worse and I was starting to feel nauseous. I realized something was seriously wrong. This headache was too weird and came on too hard and too fast. I dialed 911 on my cell. I remember looking at those three numbers and thinking "Am I really about to call 911 on myself?" It was a surreal moment and I hit call. I found out later that this was the decision that saved my life. "911 emergency" a woman said. I started to explain what happened and she cut me off saying "Let me transfer you to emergency". "Aren’t you emergency?!" I started to say, and then a man answered. I started to tell him what happened. He calmly asked where I lived and told me help was on the way. A few minutes later I heard sirens. I remember thinking "Holy shit those are for me". The nausea got worse. "I'm going to throw up" I told the dispatcher. "It's ok" he said. “Keep me on the line”. On my way to the bathroom I unlocked my front door so the paramedics could come in and I ran to the bathroom and started throwing up. I kept apologizing to the phone on my floor between heaves. I heard the paramedics coming in. "Hello" they were shouting. I hollered I was in the bathroom then thought "They don’t know where the bathroom is". So weird what you think of in a tragedy. Some of them came in the bathroom but I couldn’t lift my head to look at them. The headache was so bad at this point. "Can you sit up" one said. I did and looked him in the eyes; he is the only one I actually saw. He looked me in the eyes with a flashlight and someone else was taking my blood pressure. They told me they were taking me to the hospital and which one did I want to go to. I said St. Josephs. "Is the dog friendly" someone asked. I told them yes and she probably didn’t even see them all that well. I also asked to please make sure the doors were closed because my cats are indoor (Tweaks was hissing at the paramedics). Priorities you know. They asked if I could walk and I said yes. I was clutching my head and a paramedic was on each arm helping me out. They asked if I needed my purse. One had grabbed the phone off the floor and I pointed at my wallet and keys as we walked out. As the gurney was being wheeled down my driveway my neighbor ran alongside. "Jami I called your mom and left a message, who else can I call?" I told her Shane. Even though he was in OK he could alert Danelle. When they loaded me into the ambulance I told them I get carsick and continued puking. He tried to give me something for the nausea but I couldn’t keep it down. They were such nice men and used the siren and tried to get me to St. Joe's asap. When we arrived most was now a blur. I was put in a wheelchair. I then sat in a fetal position in the wheelchair clutching my head and puking. I have no idea where I kept getting wheeled around too. Questions were asked, blood pressure was taken again. Then I was left somewhere. I heard a woman say "She called 911 for a headache?!" with a very nasty sarcastic tone. I wanted to jump up and smack her. From my fetal position I shouted: "I was at the gym and it came on fast and hard and it's not a normal headache. I'm not a pussy!!!!!!" I was then wheeled away. I glanced up and realized I was next to a drinking fountain. The 1st thing I thought was "Assholes stuck me in the corner for being feisty". A gal came and sat next to me with a clipboard and asked if she could call someone for me. I had noticed Danelle had tried to call (My phone was on the wheelchair with me) "Do you know how to work one of these things? I asked flicking the iPhone towards her. She said yes and I told her to call D who had called earlier. As she did someone else shouted into the waiting room "Is there a Jami with blonde hair??" My new friend said it was me and D was calling the ER looking for me. Thank GAWD I thought, someone would now come be with me. I was then wheeled and parked in the hallway with a mean nurse saying there was no room right now. I started to cry. A few minutes later I felt someone touch my arm, it was D. She sat next to me and we waited until I was finally admitted to a room. I could not stop puking and the Dr. and Nurse were arguing over what I need more - meds for my pain or meds for my puking. Mom arrived. They hooked up an IV and started giving me something. The Dr. looked in my eyes and said CAT scan. I was taken to get a CAT scan then returned to ER. Mom was crying. I heard them say I was being admitted to ICU. I knew something wasn’t right. I found out later that they had told my mom to start praying. On my way to ICU I was given another CT scan this time with dye. I remember the CAT scan guy was the same one as before. "Hello again" I said. He warned me the die would make me feel like I have to urinate but it's just the die. When that happened I made the weirdest face. "Are you ok?" he asked."Yes, but that was fucking weird!!!" he laughed. I was still entertaining. I was admitted to ICU and I don’t remember much of this night except mom stayed the night and I told her that was silly. She said she's not leaving my side. I knew that was bad. "Am I going to die?! I asked. "It's very serious" was all she said with tears in her eyes. I remember thinking. Bullshit, I'm not going to die. The next morning I found out my dad was flying home from his vacation in Illinois. This made me realize again how serious this was. Mom went home for a bit to take care of the pets and this is when the neurosurgeon on staff came to talk to me. "The CT scan has ruled out an aneurism. But in order to have no shadow of a doubt I want to do an angiogram. The risk is there is 1 and 3000 chance of having a stroke. My stomach dropped. "Luck isn’t really on my side at the moment" I said. "Do you really think I should get this?" If you were my wife or my daughter I would want them to get it". I agreed then. My nurse that day was Eva who was a love and watched me like a hawk. I was her age and I freaked her out that I was so young and healthy and there I was. I made her laugh a lot. Mom returned and D was with her. Robin came by later. I was off for my angiogram. I was scared for the 1st time. One of the gals who helped with this procedure asked what happened. When I told her she shouted "I tell ya exercise kills!" she laughed. She asked why I was scared. I told her I don’t want to have a stroke. She assured me she had a perfect record and I wasn’t going to screw that up. Plus it was Thursday and she didn’t want to do the paperwork. I loved her. The angiogram was probably one of the weirdest things I have ever had done. "I may have to shave you" one of the men said. "Shave me where!?" I asked mortified. They removed my gown and put a strip of something on my hoo-hah. "Oh, it's ok, we won’t need to shave." And keeping myself nicely landscaped just was made totally worth it. I lay there for about an hour. They go in through the femoral artery (by your groin) and up your veins into your head and shoot die and take pictures. A man named Mike was at my head the whole time telling me when to hold still and hold my breath in a very gentle voice. When they plugged up the artery (that's how he phrased it) that hurt. I was wheeled back to my room and Terri was there. I was told I had to lay flat on my back for 5 hours. Apparently when they were hooking me back up Terri said they pulled all these crazy wires and gadgets from my gown and she freaked out a bit. I remember thinking I'm not supposed to be on this side of the ICU. I visit people I don’t get visited. My back hurt a lot and Eva not one minute past 5 hours tried to get me comfortable again. Libby arrived. She handed me a guardian angel statue and said someone gave it to her so she's giving it to me and maybe I can pass it on to someone else. She then broke down crying. (Man what must I look like I thought) But I only saw her for a minute I was off now for an MRI. Luckily I'm not claustrophobic so the MRI didn’t bother me but it was very weird. I remember I kept closing my eyes and making musical beats with the machine sounds. Back to my room I went. Eva hooked me back up to my many machines and tubes. I remember throughout every night I was awaken every hour with a flashlight shown into my eyes, the nurse asking me to squeeze her hands and push my feet against her hands. The nurses always softly apologizing. I also remember the blood pressure machine that was permanently hooked up to me squeezing my arm every hour. Day 3 in ICU. Maria was my nurse. She massaged my feet and switched the blood pressure to my other arm annoyed it had been the same place as long as it was. St. Joe’s nurses are the bomb. Two women came in to do a swallow test. Had me eat a cracker and swallow. I must have passed. I had been having to use a bed pan and I begged Maria to let me use the commode behind the curtain. She was hesitant. I felt disgusting. When I had to pee I unhooked myself and started waddling to the commode thinking no one saw. Here comes Maria scolding me. My headache returned. "See, that’s what you get" she playfully scolded. A Dr. came in and said I would probably be released today. He asked if they had taken a pregnancy test. I barked at him I hadn’t had sex in a year so there’s no need. I’ve never seen a Dr. blush and get flustered so much. I was so excited to leave. Maria didn’t think I should leave quite yet. Another lady came and asked me to try to walk the hallway with her. I did, and I puked. When I returned to my room they had pretty much packed me up to go home and had to re hook me all back up because puking in the hallway means going home is a no go. The Dr. came back and found me a pain med I could take without puking and I was finally able to go home that Friday night late. Maria filled mom's bags with extra goodies and off we went. The 1st thing I wanted to do was take a bath. I knew I was in no state to shower but I felt so gross. Against mom's wishes I bathed and went to bed. The next day Dave and Pete came by, Pete teasing me that I'm not allowed to steal his thunder (He had a stroke a few years ago) and I sat on the couch visiting. Robin came by for dinner that night. I remember saying "I'll be fine in 2 weeks!" The Dr. had told me about 4-6 weeks it will take to recover. Apparently that is how long it takes for your body to reabsorb the blood. I was optimistic and thought I would be fine. What I didn’t realize was my body was still full of all the IV meds. That night it all went downhill. Mom's beloved pug fell ill. I called my sis in law to accompany her to the vet since I could not go. We said goodbye to Smokie in tears. I was left alone for awhile and I cried and cursed God and the universe and asked Why!!! Why the hell is this happening!!?? Why has this year been so rough then this happens!!! My grandparents aren’t well, my mom is unemployed and lost her unemployment funds, I’m now going to be buried in hospital bills!!!! My mom has had enough and now you take her fucking dog!!!!! This was the only time I was that angry and blaming the world. I was awoken at 5am that Sunday morning with the worst pain in my back I have ever had. My dad rushed over and had me on the floor stretching thinking I was having muscle spasms. The neurologist was called and we were informed the blood had probably pooled in the base of my spine and has caused this pain. WTF. The next few days I had to play level with my body. Ass up in the air on pillows sometimes, sometimes head higher, basically trying to balance where the blood in my spine was flowing. That week I was flooded with flowers and gifts and cards. I cried every time I received one. The love I felt from my friends and family was incredible. I couldn’t read and I couldn’t watch TV and I couldn’t text too much since focusing on anything hurt my head. I didn’t want to see to many people because I didn’t want people seeing me in this state. My cat Tweaks would not leave my side. She even followed me to the bathroom. She also growled and hissed and was ready to take out anyone who came to our front door. That following Tuesday we realized I had a blockage in my colon. Not to get too detailed here, but let's just say we tried many ways to get it out and nothing was working. The final phase sent me into the most painful situation that competed with the original brain explosion. I was screaming in pain and my dad again rushed over and the paramedics were called. Back to the ER I went. This time I was able to chat with the paramedics and they were adorable. I was blushing with embarrassment because here I was smitten and going to the ER for the most humiliating thing ever. I was in the ER for about 3 hours dealing with the most embarrassing, humiliating, mortifying situation ever (That I share with the world here). They finally sent me home with something to drink that did finally shoot the blockage out and let's just put it this way - imagine shitting out a fucking house - That's what it felt like. This of course only made my back worse and that has been pretty much what has kept me down since. I have avoided the pain meds and taking Tylenol every 4 hours. I've been through 2 bottles. My kidneys are pissed so I'm also taking cranberry pills and drinking more water than a fish. Luckily I was able to watch TV and a few days later read. Thank God for small favors. I also want to mention that sometime during week 2 I thought it would be good for me to maybe try to walk a little outside and feel the sunshine on my face. I stepped on a bee and got stung. WTF!!! My mom rushed out when she heard me crying and she laughed the darkest laughter I have ever heard. Back to bed I go. I went to primary Dr. They basically said suck it up. I had my appointment last week with my new neurologist and I was told I had to wait out the back pain, I have to have another angiogram in 3-6 weeks, and the tumor that they found (Did I mention they found a tumor in my brain? Benign and very common but none the less - there it is) is in a very precarious place and if it grows radiation will be where we start. I will now have to see the neurologist once a year so they can watch this little fucker. I asked why and how did this happen? He told me they will never know, it was totally random, could happen to anyone. I asked am I at a higher risk to have another?? Nope, small chance. I cried the whole way home. I'm terrified of another angiogram and I know the tumor is benign but it's there. Last Thursday night I took a turn for the better. I got my 1st night’s sleep. I didn’t wake up 3 or 4 times in dire pain like every other night. Since then my back is improving. I now don’t have the sharp stabbing pain but more of a dull throbbing. I can sort of sit up and I'm moving around much better. I started doing water aerobics in our hot tub to try to get my strength back. I've watched my muscles deflate and I've lost 12 pounds. I hate the weak feeling I have but I'm working on slowly getting better. I called my neurologist yesterday and he said I could cancel my MRI (He was going to do another to double check my back) since I was improving and if I think I can (which I do!) I can go back to work Monday the 9th. I plan on trying to drive my car today or tomorrow and I'm really shooting to attend Hootenanny on Saturday. I'm taking it very very easy, not lifting anything, not bending down too much and watching the way I feel but I'm on the mend. FINALLY. I also have to mention I would not have gotten through this without my mother. That woman waited on me hand and foot and went above and beyond anyone needed to do taking care of me and trying to keep my spirits up and loving me. So - finally in conclusion - what have I learned? I don’t know. People have said - "Well now you don’t take things for granted!" I never have. When I hop out of bed I think "I'm lucky I can do that". When I shave my legs I think "I'm lucky I can do that". I've watched my Papa's body deteriorate and watched my parents slow down and have always always appreciated how agile I am.People have said "Now you appreciate life more!" Well - I've always appreciated life. My motto is never take life too seriously. I’ve also been on the positive train this year trying to improve all aspects of my life for the good."Regrets?" they say. Not really. If I hadn’t of made it, I have crammed a lot in my 36 years. I still have waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more I want to do but I'm happy to report I wouldn’t look back and think I wasted my life. I suppose I have learned a few things…I have learned my cats love me more than I even thought. I have learned the ridiculous amount of support and love that came from friends and family helped me get through this more than they will ever know. I have learned I'm still impatient as hell. I have learned I'm stronger than I thought. I also believe that the healthy state I was in before D day has helped my recovery be quicker than someone else and probably helped save my life. I've also learned I'm a total sap. I cry more. I've also learned I do have faith. More than I originally realized. I miss my life. I cannot wait to have it back.I'm so grateful I survived. I'm so grateful I will not have any permanent damage. Once I get through this 2nd angiogram I will hopefully close the book on this part of my life and try to work on getting rid of that new nagging fear that haunts me.I've said this before but I'll say it again - this time I feel I have experience and power behind it - Live life to the fullest. You never know when you are going to be snatched from this world.Thank you all for your love and support! I would not have gotten through this without all of my family and friends.

3 comments:

Rose said...

Jesus Jami. I am at a loss for words. This whole experience has been surreal for you, but unfortunately, VERY VERY REAL. =( I am so impressed by your tenacity to get through this and your willingness to keep fighting for both healing and sanity. <3

Hollis said...

I love you, and I love you for this detailed, harrowing account of your ordeal. Now I must prove I am not a robot.

Rachel said...

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO