To put it quite frankly, (although never having met Frank, myself) when I posted my M.I.A blog post about my health, and stated that there would be ‘more to come’ about this topic; I didn’t quite imagine this. ￼
You see, in my mind I had more of a picture of explaining what it was like to have POTS the first time, how I was forced to leave school because of it, to save my health, although never having ended up in hospital the first time around.
This time around, apparently things are a little different. Twice in the same month.
You know that saying; “third times the charm”? Let’s not say that about this, because I’m kinda planning on getting better and stronger, if my body will continue to cooperate with me, like it was… until 16 hours ago.
Having had an incredible two days, with energy and clarity of thought. I was able to somewhat function as a normal human being; which again to put it frankly… Felt. Bloody. Good.
These two days were so good in fact, that I went to sleep on the second day, thinking that when I woke up in the morning, I would be lucky enough to attend my university classes.
Boy oh boy, I could not have been more off the mark.
When I woke yesterday morning, it was safe to say that I knew I wasn’t in for another ‘good today’ and if I pushed myself, my body would reject the attempt and decline even further, as a consequence.
Therefore deciding that it was a good day instead, to stay in bed and binge watch Jane The Virgin (thanks Netflix) while my brother would occasionally interrupt me by showing me everything he’s brought home with him after his big move across several states. Finally, home with me where he belongs.
If you’re wondering about my brother, and what our friendship is like, check out my earlier post “8 things to look forward to you when your best friend moves home.”
It was going well. I was resting. I had the attention of one of my favourite people in the world, and I could feel my body thanking me for going easy on it. There is nothing like knowing you made the right decision.
Until not even that, is enough.
As I lay in the comfort of my own bed, I could feel my heart begin to ache. Slowly, and gently at first. I changed position several times in order to get comfortable; to no avail. I took some panadol to ease the pain.
Yet I could feel the ache grow. I then tried sitting up and laying back down several times in a desperate attempt to ease the pain that was rapidly rising.
I could feel my heart racing, faster and faster as the pain across my chest spread further and tighter.
I tried several times to stand only to be knocked back.
Eventually, I gave in. I called my parents and cried. Within 10 minutes, I was no longer alone in my room with this pain. No, I had my mum, dad, my mums receptionist (another mother figure in my life) and two paramedics standing next to me.
They placed cords all over my chest, a task I have become familiar over the past couple weeks.
It is to be noted, that as this point, my cat (who has a knack for looking after me when I’m sick, mainly just with cuddles) comes howling in. Sniffs around the paramedics, and everything that was attached to me, and deemed them trustable. Honestly, whom needs a guard dog when I have an “I got your back” cat.
With the pain settling, and no unusual results found by the paramedics I assumed that I would just be left alone with painkiller and sleep on my agenda. Oh boy, was I wrong again.
“You don’t mess around, when it comes to your heart.” My mum says as she walked behind me to the ambulance, while my dad held me up by holding me up on one side, and my brother, the other.
Keeping me stable, and strong when my head spins and body gives way every few seconds. I was then waved off by three of my favourite faces, and knew mum was following close behind.
The paramedic sat next to me asking me lots of questions about my health, I was able to share with her the irony of the fact that only the day before I had posted about my last trip to the hospital, and how I was on my way to recovery, or at least I thought, and promised her she would feature in my next post.
I told her that I thought anyone who works for emergency services, deserves a round of applause at the end of their day. She laughed, “That would be nice.”
Well, this is my round of applause for you Jill. Thank you for not only constantly checking on my while I was in your care, but also talking to me as a friend and making me laugh constantly. I am delighted to have met you.
Not long after, I departed from my new paramedic friend and was admitted in the emergency ward where the usual procedure began.
First, ECG’s which would stay attached to me till I was discharged. Next, oxygen check. Then, blood pressure check, and of course, what would a hospital trip be without a blood test, oh, and a cannula.
The next 8 hours consisted of the first three of the original checks cycling, over and over. Attempted naps, countless bored snap chats and painkiller filled in the time.
Till I got the news that tonight would not only be the night I would have my first ambulance ride, but also my second. It was time to be enroute to the next hospital (that had more beds). The paramedics for my second ambulance experience filled my trip with dad jokes, and attempts to teach me little fun things. I don’t mean to brag, but I now have my licence to use a medical thermomotor…
Alas, it was 10 o’clock at night and I had reached my final destination, for the next few days at least. I was / am very grateful for a private room to say the least. It was most definitely time to rest.
I was woken up several times over night for scheduled checks, as well as an ECG monitor attached to me again.
But the best part about waking up this morning is that my parents were already here to see me, sit and wait with me. Despite the fact they hare taken time away from their own business’s to be here with me, knowing they will have to make up for that lost time later.
Today I’ve had another blood test (which makes a total of 3 in the past 24 hours) as well as an Echogram to check my heart. Oh, and a chest X-ray last night. I think it’s safe to say I am in more then safe hands, and I have lots of people attempting to get to the bottom of it for me, and assisting with the pain along the way.
In reference to my last blog post, where I stated that sometimes when my immune system is down, everything that works automatically kind of stop working all on it’s own? Well it’s called Dysautonomia, and POTS (which I explained in my last blog) is a repercussion of it. So it is not unusual for these two to walk hand in hand.
Unfortunately, due to the Dysautonomia, my stomach is not currently cooperating at the moment, despite several types of medications that would usually do the trick. Therefore, more tests, which mean eventually more results.
Alas, back to the chest pain. Due to POTS, my heart has been rapidly racing at a high speed for quite some time now. Unfortunately this mean that the sack surrounding my heart has become quite worn down from being so constantly beaten upon resulting in the severe chest pain. This infection is called pericarditis.
I don’t currently have all the answers to all of your questions, because I am still due for more tests, and in the process of waiting for more results. However, I have been started on medication for the Pericarditis, to help heal it, as well ease the pain. They are investigating my stomach, tomorrow I will know more after the endoscopy.
Again, totally and completely grateful to all the nurses, doctors, and paramedics who have used their time to make sure I am okay. I have nothing but respect for your profession.
“Although I walk through the valley of darkness, I shall fear no evil.”
Until next time,