It’s been a bit since I continued my story and I apologize.
Things have been…
And not great.
I’ve been having some side effects from my chemotherapy and surgery and struggling and unfortunately it’s kept me from being able to go to work (which I desperately need to make ends meet).
Back to where the troubles all began…
I woke up a few hours after my mastectomy and DIEP flap reconstruction to my hospital room full of nurses and doctors. Alarms were going off and everyone was working busy trying to stabilize me. Unbeknownst to me, while sleeping, my blood pressure had plummeted down to 50/24 and since I was on a beta blocker due to my SVTS being known to rise into the high 200’s the doctors were trying to determine a course of action that would bring my blood pressure up without increasing my pulse.
I’ll be honest, at the time, I don’t really think it hit me just how serious things were. I mean, I know 50/24 is way, way, way too low but I didn’t really realize how close to potentially dying I was until many hours later when I was stable.
Because honestly, that’s what it took.
They removed me from my beta blocker and blood thinners and had a crash cart in my room waiting to see how high my pulse would go.
Hours after the medication was out of my system and my blood pressure medicine was working, I think they all finally were relieved to see me stabilize at 88/56 with my pulse around 90.
Still not great numbers, but numbers that weren’t going to cause a stroke or my heart to just stop beating.
By 7am that morning, I was dehydrated and all of my IV lines were blown.
They had me downing glass after glass of water while they attempted to get an IV in any vein left.
Finally, after 15 attempts, they brought in a specialist from the NICU who used a NICU-sized needle to optain a vein in my hand.
That meant my fluids would need to be delivered extremely slowly and I had already been told I would no longer be receiving IV pain medications due to my blood pressure.
Unfortunately for me, I had one nurse whom I’ll call Nurse Ratchet, who decided she knew better than everyone else and she decided that I was too dehydrated and she was going to force fluids through my IV via a needle.
I told her it was a NICU needle and she told me that was nonsense.
I told her she was hurting me and she told me to be quiet and she would know if she was hurting me.
I started to cry and she told me to stop and said I was making a big deal out of nothing.
Thankfully, my roommate heard all of this through the curtain and hit her call button for her nurse and she told them my nurse was torturing me.
By then it was too late.
My IV line was blown and my arm was swollen 3 times it’s normal size from fluid build-up.
I was somewhere between pissed off, ugly crying, and in extreme pain.
And the specialist had to be called in again to find another vein in my “Popeye” arm.
And told them if Helga (not her actual name but since she was Hungarian or something like that) came in my room again as my nurse I’d sue everyone that worked in the hospital.
I was assured she would not enter my room again.
And that’s how I became friends with my roommate 🙂