Warning: This may sound like I'm complaining, but really, I'm not. I'm just wondering. Out loud.
So, I spent my Christmas holiday in the ICU. I've pondered what it is about those hospitals, and this is what I've decided. It's the food that keeps me comin' back.
(That part about the food was a joke. Hee, hee?)
This is what happened. I started having pains in my left side a few days before Christmas. Having spent an entire day in the ER a few weeks before (this time for pains in my left side), only to undergo a handful of tests and to be sent home with another, "You've got a lot going on, good luck!" I chose not to ruin the few pre-Christmas days I had to spend with my kiddos and to forgo a trip to the doctor. After all, I figured it would be the same 'ol unanswered questions. Instead, I took a little ibuprofen, toughed things out, and sang Christmas songs. It worked for two days. Then, Christmas night I started to feel yucky. Yuckier, that is.
Once again, I put off going to the doctor because, well, I seem to be an unanswerable mystery and quite frankly it was the holidays and I preferred hanging out with my family in my pj's. That IS what the holidays are for, you know. I was determined to tough it out. However, by Tuesday morning, I threw out a white flag and consented to see a doctor. First, though we went to see our favorite pediatrician for Samuel's four month well check (which he passed with flying colors). Then, off to Instacare for a "quick-in-and-out-antibiotic-stop".
Turns out, it wasn't so quick. First of all, I felt miserable. I laid on the table, shivering under two coats and one of Samuel's blankets and was told I had a kidney infection. Just as I was ready to head home, the doctor decided I didn't look so hot and maybe they should give me some IV fluids, some Tylenol, and a shot of antibiotics (to be administered in an undisclosed location). After the first liter of fluids, he still didn't think I looked so hot. My temperature kept getting higher and my blood pressure lower. Not really what they were looking for. After the third liter of fluid and a round of IV antibiotics? I still felt like crap (sorry mom for the choice of words, but it's true).
Long story shorter, he ended up calling the hospital, who informed him that I was probably developing
sepsis and they were going to send an ambulance. (Another word we've since added to our vocabulary). Because I had been planning on a quick in-and-out, I hadn't told him about the whole I-almost-died-in-September story, because you know, it gets kind of old. At this point, I decided I'd better mention it. He kind of freaked out a little, something about sepsis can lead DIC (my previous adventure).
They loaded me onto the stretcher and I could plainly see everyone panicking. Again. It kind of felt like September all over again, minus the bleeding all over and the helicopter ride. As we arrived at the hospital, the doctors were waiting at the door and saying words like, "really sick girl" and "ICU". All
I could think was that I was letting my family down. Again. It was Christmas break, after all. We had plans.
In the end, we cancelled all our plans and the kids spent the holidays playing with cousins.
This is what I've been wondering since I've gotten home. They tell me to cut back, but I don't know how. I thought I had. The old me got tired and overwhelmed, but when I did, I simply worked harder. That always seemed to fix things. The old me (and maybe the hard part is I still think this way) thought that if things weren't going the way I wanted, it was because I wasn't doing enough. The old me used to love to run, and when I'd get tired I knew I just needed to keep on trucking and eventually I'd get to the finish line. When things needed to be done, I'd make a list and plow through it. When something was wrong, I'd find a way to fix it. For the first time in my life, it seems like pushing harder and digging deeper isn't working.
I don't know what to do with the new me.
I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining. Really, I don't. I'm so thankful to be here. After each round of examinations and tests, I hear doctors tell me I'm a mystery. I told someone the other day that I'd rather be a mystery than a memory. And I really do. I've just got some figuring out to do.
This past October, I remember that Elder Robert D. Hales said something that struck me funny. He said that we tend to pray for patience, but we want it
right now! That is me in a nutshell. I feel like I'm willing to do whatever Heavenly Father wants me to do, but I have an awfully hard time not being invited to the planning meeting. I just want to know what is on the agenda, please! The other day I saw a sign that read something like this, "Relax, take a deep breath, and pretend this was part of the lesson plan."
Heavenly Father, I just want you to know. I'm really trying.