The Story, Part II

   (Continued from last post.)

  After I was sufficiently awake from the anesthesia, they got me into a room. In the OR, they had told me they were going to catheterize me and empty my bladder, so I had thought they had done that. When I got into the room, either they told me I hadn't or I realized it myself--I can't remember which. So I figured, instead of getting all settled in first, I figured I should go ahead and pee and get that over with. I told the nurses and they asked if I felt good enough to do that. I thought I did, so I got up slowly and headed to the bathroom. One of the nurses came with me. I sat down on the toilet, and pretty soon the nurse is asking me if I feel lightheaded. I don't remember if I answered or not. Next thing I remember is hearing someone calling my name over and over. I finally realized they wanted me. I slowly came out of it and I think there were like 5 nurses there, one of which was a beefy male nurse who is right in front of me calling my name. He told me they were going to get me up into the bed. I was able to get back in bed with assistance, and they told me I'd need to use a bedpan. Oh lovely. 
   I tried the bedpan but didn't have a lot of luck with it. Later on they let me use the bedside commode which was better, but still tough to go with nurses watching you!

   They released me the following afternoon. I was feeling really weak still and not 100%, but I guess hospitals tend to need to kick people out for insurance reasons, so they sent me home. My hubby wasn't too happy that they sent me home so early, either, but my mom said I could come over to her house and stay there as long as I needed till I got back on my feet. So we prepared to spend the night there. I just laid on the couch--didn't have much energy for anything and my heart would pound if I got up too fast.
   Later that same evening, I started feeling a shooting pain going from my collarbone up into my jaw on the right hand side. I did not like the feeling---it made me nervous that I was having some sort of heart attack or something, because I had heard that was one of the symptoms that women need to watch out for. My hubby wasn't convinced, but we called the hospital and talked to a nurse, and she advised we go back to the ER. So we went back, leaving my son once again with my mom, and checked back in again. This routine was getting way too familiar. They did some blood tests first and it came back with an indicator of a blood clot, so I got a chest x ray and a CT (with contrast) of my chest. The CT showed a small blood clot in my right lung. My hubbs was actually surprised. I was a bit surprised too, but I knew that something was wrong, and it was nice to be validated, at the least. They admitted me and started me on blood thinners. I ended up getting a room in the cardiac wing of the hospital. I also got to have a blood transfusion, because I guess they were worried about putting me on blood thinners after having hemorrhaged so badly just the day before. Let me tell you, that transfusion was wonderful. Prior to getting it, I was feeling so vulnerable, teary, and scared. My husband wanted to go home for a bit and check on our son but I didn't want him to leave, even though my sister and a close friend of mine were there with me. After I got the transfusion, I felt a new strength, of course physically but also mentally and emotionally. I felt I could cope again. 
  
    I got a lot of visitors, it seemed, while I was in the hospital, a total of 5 days including the first day I was there after the miscarriage. I ended up sharing a room with another woman, which at first I felt strange about because I was used to having my own room, but ended up being nice because she was a really nice lady and shared my faith, so we talked to each other through the curtain separating our beds. It was nice having the company during an otherwise very vulnerable/lonely time in my life. 
My husband came and went, as he needed to help take care of our son and our pets at home, and I told him he should sleep at home anyway because I know he doesn't get good sleep in hospitals, and also because I thought I might sleep better alone too, without having to worry whether he was sleeping or not. My sister spent one night with me, I believe it was the first night, before I had come back with the blood clot in my lung. That night we stayed up late talking, and she slept right in my hospital bed with me. It was very comforting---she and I shared a bedroom as little girls growing up, and many times I'd crawl into her bed or she into mine.
  
I was released on Sunday, January 29th. My doctor wanted to release me on Saturday, but my husband wanted to make sure I didn't get sent home too early again, like the last time. So the doc obliged and kept me one more day. I still was having occasional chest pain, but my doctor assured me this was normal, that the blood thinners were working on dissolving the clot and in the meantime, I would still have symptoms of it.
   At our home I had a tough time just climbing the stairs to our second-floor apartment. My heart was pounding and I was huffing and puffing by the time I made it up. It took probably a month before I felt better. It was tough having to take it slow, because I would feel a little better, then I'd try to push myself and end up exhausted and have to take it easy again. Two steps forward, one step back. But eventually I was on the upswing and feeling better---at least physically. It would be a long time before I felt better emotionally.