Wednesday, February 07 2018
CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSES DEATH READ AT OWN RISK
What a massive couple of weeks it has been, if you were following along on social media you may have seen my posts from hospital updating on what was going on.
Australia Day, is often a day spent with family and friends remembering or celebrating what it is to be an Australian, I know the day has conflicted meanings and celebrations for everyone, but Jan 26th 2018 will be a day that I remember just how close I came to those pearly gates and how bloody grateful I am to live to see another day.
So this is what had unfolded:
On Tuesday Jan 23rd, I was brushing my teeth around 4pm when I had a really sudden sharp pain around my right kidney area and shot down my leg and my leg felt like it were about to snap. I hopped, literally, to bed and got comfortable and had a nap. I woke around 10pm and struggled to get up out of bed and then also get to the toilet.
The next day the pain in my right leg was a lot worse, I couldn't weight-bear and relied on Russ to help me move from bed to toilet back to bed. I was crying in agony.
Thursday morning I woke and trying to get to the toilet I was screaming in pain. Russ was heading to work and I called Palliative care who told me to call an ambulance. So Russ left for work and I went in the ambo to the hospital. I had fentanyl up the nose a couple of times and barely took the edge off, no amount of morphine was helping either. Russ went to work but by 10am he was at the hospital as he was upset and wanted to be with me. It was a comfort him being there as I was in agony and I was so scared. The pain was horrendous.
I was admitted to hospital.
The next bit is where things got dicey....
So overnight my heart rate went sky high, talking 144bpm (normal for me is 90-100). My o2 dropped too.
They monitored me but by next morning things weren't any better.
I remember friends messaging me around 10am and I replied back, I thought I made sense but it was all drivvle and nonsense but it looked fine to me, so I didn't think anything of it.
That was all I recall, I don't recall much after that point.
Apparantly, from the pieces I managed to compile in the days to follow, was that I was passing in and out of consciousness. I went into a deep sleep and they struggled to wake me.
I kept coming too during the "resus" which may have been around 3pm and saw bunch of folk standing around my bed, some were pushing IV drips in, someone pressed the big emergency button, remember my bed being wheeled to another room where doctors were talking to me. I was upset and frustrated as no one was telling me what was happening, turns out they were but I was passing out by the time I asked my question and them telling me what was happening.
I wasn't sure where I was and my speech was slurred.
They rushed me up to CT and did a full body scan, thinking I was having a stroke or heart attack. I am on clexane injections due to previous blood clots in my lungs, but also because the tumour in my abdomen has blocked off the major arterial blood supply to my small bowel and stomach and they were worried that maybe there were a clot in my small bowel (one of the forecasted ways I could die)...
So I was upset and asked them to call Russ, he arrived sometime after they called him (he was on his way to me anyway) and I calmed down a bit when I recognised one of the voices of one of my doctors off my palliative care team, it was just scary being unconscious and not being able to see who or what was being done to you and remembering I didn't quite know what was happening.
I did also keep telling them "I'm not ready to die today" and "ignore my DNR". I was adamant that NOW was not my time and I was crying saying "but I am not ready" and "I need to write my goodbye letters".
I was just so worried that I was dying alone and it was my fear.
So fast forward to post event, I was so hazy and tired. My body hurt from the siezures and all the medications, I was having trouble reading (still am) but also what I was speaking wasn't what my mind thought I was trying to say, even typing for a few days after were a struggle.
I am still so tired and exhausted, I am trying to rest, but it really has been such a difficult couple of weeks.
They don't know what happened, they think it were an infection, my leg is still giving me grief but I was just so terrified.
Had I stayed home and tried to "tough it out" at home like I usually do, things would be very different and I could have very well died in my sleep during the day alone.... which is one of my fears, is dying alone. Russ has a fear of coming home from work and finding me, he gets worried when he calls me as he leaves work (even before all this happened) that he never knows what is awaiting him at home... poor guy! This latest event hasn't helped his fears though.
But it made me realise a few things...
1. I am not ready, I still feel like I have so much left to do, including putting pen to paper and penning those difficult goodbye letters to my loved ones.
2. I have a newfound appreciation for every good moment of the day and just how grateful I am to be alive
and 3. That Russ has even more grey hairs now than he did a fortnight ago, but that I saw just how much me being sick has taken a toll on him.
But jokes aside, I honestly always thought that when it were my time to go that I would know that it was time and that I would feel this sense of calm and readiness, as if I felt accomplished and happy. Now, I worry that maybe there isn't ever really going to be a universal sign or feeling of totality and that maybe you won't know.
It has made me even more determined now to try and get my affairs in order and try and be the best version of me I could be.
So I am home now, pain meds have had a total overhaul, back to weekly palliative care visits and here's hoping there are a few more chapters left of my story.
They pumped me with so much fluid during the resus that my stomach swelled up really badly, so much that I thought it would just split open, so took duiretics to help shift the water and my stomach is resembling it's usual self but still sore. Even around my stoma was swollen from fluid.
It has been a difficult week adjusting to being back home, I am still feeling weak and tired, my brain still feels sluggish and I am just taking my time to rest and actually listening to my body for once. I am not going to push myself anymore and after starting off 2018 on a rough patch I hope theres a few good months ahead.
Thank you to all the love, messages, comments checking in on me, it is a comfort knowing so many care.
You're stuck with me for a little longer still, well I hope anyway!
Oh you poor girl. That is a lot for you to go through. I hope you are feeling better quickly and your leg will go back to normal. I know when I died in April it was so awful. They rescusitated me and had me in Icu for four day's on a machine to breath for me as I couldn't do it myself. The worst part was their was no one there to tell me to go back. The other three times it's happened grandad and grandma told me it wasn't my time. I thought it must of been my time but it wasn't. It's amazing the stuff that goes through your head. Like you with your goodbye letters. Good luck lovey. Hope you get some decent days soon.
Posted by Carolyn on 07/02/2018 - 09:30 PM
I am simply in awe. You are an amazing inspiration to all who cross your path. My daughter is having a colonoscopy tomorrow.
Posted by Pam Parker on 07/02/2018 - 09:30 PM
I am glad you are still here. I am amazed at how good you look (eyebrows are amazing) even when so ill. I mean that in a good way not a snarky one. I look like a bag lady in my hospital photos. I've also been inspired to 'put my affairs in order' lately. They were/are, but I have changed my mind since I last did them and I want to update them and make them easier and cleaner. I also do not have a DNR in place, so that has to be done. Thanks for the reminder. Stay well x
Posted by Bronnie - Maid In Australia on 31/05/2018 - 12:41 AM