Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Just another day in the paradise that is my life!

Well let's just say this hasn't been the best week of my life.
Went to Dr. for follow-up on some problems I've been having. So we're sitting there. And he says to me: "I think you need to go into hospital to have additional tests done. This is not getting any better, in fact it's getting worse."
So I'm thinking, holy shit, you have to be half dead before they put you in the hospital nowadays. Is there something he's not telling me?
Turns out, a few months ago I was having problems with blood pressure going really high and then falling really low. It was causing me to be lightheaded and nearly pass out. So he orders a MRI among other things. The MRI showed, how did he word it? Oh yeah, he said I look like I have the brain of an 80+ year old, not a 50 year old. Apparently my blood isn't flowing all the way up there to my brain. It's getting stuck somewhere. He said we can watch it for a month or two and see if it gets better or worse.
Yeah, you know it,as sure as I am Marie Green's granddaughter, it got worse. So he puts me in the hospital.

First, let me say how different things are now when you enter the hospital. They call YOU. They do. Dr. told me they will call shortly with instructions.
Sure enough, in about an hour they call me and tell me my room number is 7714 and I just report to my room.
How about that? No more laying on one of those gurneys in the hall for hours on end waiting for a room.
It's just like a hotel. Ski picked me up and laughed because I had a bag packed like I was going on vacation. (I told her I was, at least I wanted to pretend because the room had to be cleaner than mine)
When I got to the room, it was nice enough. They had one of those little cards on the dresser just like in a hotel. It said Hi I'm (so and so) I cleaned your room on (date and time)That stuck me funny.
Let me go back to when I was packing. I was all in a tizzy. What does one wear in the hospital these days. Do I take a night gown or do I wear one of those awful hospital gowns. I call a few friends. The vote was pretty much split down the middle.
When it came down to it. I am Harriet's daughter. I would be haunted forever if anyone came to visit me in the hospital and I had on a hospital gown and not a freshly ironed nightgown.
So I dug deep and found a nightgown which happened to be my mothers. Of course I ironed it. Ironed my underwear (again, a Harriet thing) and off I went.
That nightgown was strangely comforting.
I no sooner get there and start to settle in, when they call me for the first test. At 11:00 in the evening.
That started two nights and three days of intense testing, prodding, sticking.
To name a few of the tests I had: The tilt test. They put you in this thing

They do various things like put a nitroglycerin tablet under you tongue until you pass out.
Uh, yeah, that was so fun. Last thing I remember was the Dr. saying "There she goes"
I passed that one.

Then they put me in this, notice what they had my head in before they even put me in that damn MRI machine.

Thank God I kept my eyes closed and didn't see the extent of where I was. I would have freaked.

To make a long story short, They diagnosed me with Vasodepression. Basically it causes my blood not to be able to get all the way up into my brain. It depresses the circulation. Making my blood pressure drop too low without any real change in my heart rate.

I'll live.

A few notes about the whole ordeal:
-The worse thing about the whole hospital stay was definitely the needles. I am petrified of needles. Ski was with me when they tried to put the first IV in my arm.
She told her kids she has never seen anyone act like such a baby.
The thing is I have really deep veins. When they try to put an IV in, they have to dig and it hurts and I get myself all crazy and then my veins collapse. OK, that hurt.
She was thankfully not there when they gave me shots in my stomach. Yes---my stomach.
-Through a comedy of errors, I didn't get anything to eat or drink from Sunday at 4:00 PM to Monday at 5:00 PM. I was not pleased.
-So I wake up Monday morning around 6:00 AM. I notice someone sitting in the chair in my room. It's my Aunt Patsy. I groggily ask what she's doing? She whispers "I didn't want them to think you didn't have anyone"
Yeah, looser that I am, I don't have anyone.
Poor thing sat there all day. Fielding calls.
-The phone calls. Every shift of nurses had the same comment. "Gee, your phone sure rings alot."

Thanks my friends for keeping tabs on me, and for caring. I truly appreciate it.

How about the whole time I'm in the hospital and doing one heart test after another, I'm watching the whole Tim Russert thing. What a truely remarkable human being. God Rest His Big Irish Soul"

On a lighter note, while I am a little weak and black and blue, I desperately need a night out.
See you all tomorrow!!!!


Judi said...

OMG! How awful! What a terrible story!
So, will you be ironing your naughty nighty for the party Saturday night? Or, will you be wearing your hospital night gown? Either/or, I hope you're not too vasodepressed to come! Kate & I need another Irish girl (or 2 or 3...bring more!) in the room!
p.s. I'm still trying to figure out which naughty night I will wear. Fashion shows every night this's getting soooo old!

Eileen, The Mayor, or Francine, depending on my mood and night of the week. said...

I think I'll stick with the hospital gown look, It's worked so well for me thus far!
Us Irish have to stick together, esp with that crowd!