Below is the recounting of the discovery, removal, rehabilitation, and survival of an arteriovenus malformation. To read from the beginning of the story, click here.
Praise for My Wonderful Husband
I must take a quick moment to tell you about my husband, Dan. Obviously, he was the one to take me into the hospital on Saturday morning. He had to repeatedly answer the same four questions each time I woke up, Where am I? Why does my head still hurt? Does my mom know? Did you tell Erin I can’t come see her today? In the past, he always got annoyed when I’d tell him the same story over and over.
I think God has a sense of humor even during the bad times.
Anyways, what I was going to point out is that he never left my side. He stayed in my room every night, he prayed with me, and he read the Bible to me for hours on end. There really are so many other things, but most you don’t want to hear about. Let’s just say he dealt with the good, the bad, and the very ugly during the hospitalization. I could never say enough about the wonderful, caring husband he was to me. He is truly a man of God, and I am honored God let me spend my life with him.
God Had Other Plans: Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Back to the story: I am doing very well. So no more neuro checks every hour all day and all night.
Thank you Lord for some real sleep!
I am being transferred to a regular room for my last night in the hospital, Tuesday, November, 17. I’m going home on Wednesday to wait for a surgery date to be set.
Tuesday night my friend Megan came to see me. We had a great visit. We talked and laughed for a long time. It was so good to sit and chat.
My roommate that night wasn’t the most pleasant. She complained loudly and snored even louder (this is all before 9pm!). In her defense, she just had back surgery. However, she would wake up from her napping screaming about the pain and demanding more meds.
Dan didn’t have a chair that laid down in the room. Oh boy, this is going to be a long night.
Oh we had no idea…
I don’t know the real time frame, but within 30 minutes of Meg leaving, another headache started with a vengeance. Sharp, searing pain is shooting in my head.
We push the call button for the nurse.
She says she’ll be right there.
She’s not here.
Push the call button again.
“Something’s wrong. We need you to come”
She’ll be right there.
Pushing the call button repeatedly now.
I start crying now which makes it even worse. I suspect what is going on: my brain is hemorrhaging again. It’s a lot more scary when you know what is going on.
I ask Dan if I’m going to die. It’s all very real now. He starts to tear up. “No, you’re not going to die.” He starts to pray.
Still no nurse.
Where is she????
Push the call button again. (Funny thing about being in a regular room versus the ICU, the nurses don’t come running when you push the call button on the regular floor. Bummer for me.)
Dan keeps looking out the hall for the nurse.
Finally the nurse arrives.
She decides that I need to go immediately down for a CT scan to see if the brain is bleeding again.
It HAS to be. It feels just like before but worse.
There is no transport bed available. I am in one of the older sections of the hospital, but the only choice is to wheel my bed down to where they do the CT scans.
The trip was horrible to say the least. I’m curled in the fetal position just trying to bear the pain, and the bed is hitting every corner and doorway on the way down.
In the elevator, I try to explain to the nurse that I’m not faking the pain. I’m really in a lot of pain right now. In fact, I could only whisper it hurt so much.
She says she knows I’m not, but I still don’t think she believes me. I again try to tell her I’m not a whiner like my roommate. She says she knows. I give up.
Results from the CT scan: my brain is hemorrhaging again. I am taken directly to ICU again. A couple wonderful nurses are waiting in the room for me when I get there. They promise some pain meds as soon as they talk to my doctor. It seems like forever, but I finally get some pain meds. Fentanyl is a beautiful, wonderful drug.
Relief is on the way…
Next: My AVM Story – Part 8