Moving Forward
After a very long time of trying, I finally received a link to change the password I couldn't remember for my journal. So here I am. Much to catch up on, much to record, much to set down. I'll begin with the Big Events of last year.
It might have started in March. I'm not sure. It came on so gradually I don't know for sure when it began. One definite sign was a bike ride to the DMV to register my truck. It was hard. The bike was sluggish and I had to work hard to get there and back. I blamed it on a lack of training rides.
The bike continued sluggish, hard to ride, more of a workout than I bargained for. I took it to the Salt Lake City Bicycle Collective, where I have been volunteering for a couple of years (and the subject of at least one future entry). The Head Wrench, Mollee Bourdos, helped me troubleshoot the problem. Nothing obvious, so we started by pulling the back tire. The rear axle had snapped! No wonder it was hard to ride. And dangerous. The rear wheel could have failed at any time and easily killed me. We replaced the axle, tuned everything up, and I took Gwaihir out for a test run. Still sluggish. We began going over the bicycle piece by piece, replacing the worn parts, Adjusting the complicated parts, trying to get the wind back under his wings.Who knew that bikes need regular maintenance?
At one point I had the wheels off for something or other. My friend Lisa Cook was doing some jobs for Mollee, one of which was clipping the spokes on wheels past their useful life. You guessed it. She merrily clipped the spokes on my wheels! I was in the back getting a part when she asked if she should clip those wheels. In her defense, she immediately pulled the right length of new spokes and was going to reweave them. Then, on closer inspectionm she had done the right thing. They were worn past safe use. New wheels for me! It went on like that, until the only original things left are the fork, the frame, the seat post and the pedals. Total rebuild!
But still the bike was sluggish. I got winded going to work, and that's downhill. My asthma was acting up. The inversion settled in. The Christmas trees came into the valley. All things that affect my asthma and my allergies. Stepped up the asthma treatment. Soldiered on.
Monday, 4 December 2017. Regular day at the office. And Parent/Teacher Conferences. And closing night for Cori Connors' Christmas concert. I design and run lights for her every year, as some people still appreciate my mad skills. I taught my 4th period 1st years a new villancico a Spanish Christmas song, becasue, music. I put on my guitar (a beautiful second hand, full sized classical that I bought with the stipend from Cori's concert last year) and started to sing with them. Tried to sing with them. Two words and I had to suck serious air. Okay, this is a problem. I had probably steered into bronchitis territory. Okay. We'll deal with that as soon as possible.
Walked down to the new library for dinner before PTCs. Had to sit down as soon as there was a surface so I could catch my breath. Someone asked if I were having an anxiety attack. I responded, no, asthma. I borrowed Lisa's inhaler since I had not brought mine, but it didn't help. Out of breath even eating. This might be pneumonia? Spent most of PTCs in my chair, working on stuff on the computer. Got up periodically to install command strips across the back of my room. I had five new light strings to put up, and thought maybe my lunch bunch would like to put them up tomorrow. About four I texted Sarah and told her I was in trouble. She immediately texted Lisa, who was going to attend my concert.
Lisa rode with me to the concert instead of going on her own. Climbing the stairs to the booth was a new adventure in slowness and air sucking. Leaned on the door to catch breath before walking the ten feet to the light board. Dang. Please don't make me go downstairs to the bathroom. No, I don't need any water. I'm good. Thank you.
The concert was brilliant as always. Some of the more poignant songs brought me to tears. Heard them before. Love them. Can't handle them this year. Had to decline the after-party. Dang. Good party. Don't want to miss.
Drove down the street to U of U instacare.Took a while to get the story out of why I was there. Couldn't breathe and talk at the same time. Blood ox sat: 60. Resting heart rate: 115. They didn't want to see me. After hearing my story and seeing my sats, they had a suspicion. Blood clot. Emergency Room. Now. Lisa took the truck keys and we left for Lakeview. I was taken in immediately. No waiting.
The ER doctor was furious. Symptoms presented at two? It's 11:30 and I'm only now getting to the ER? Yes. The show must go on. That is reality, not just a saying. There were butts in seats expecting a show. PTCs are not negotiable. And I could still walk, even if slowly, I was walking. No big deal. Surrendered my show black for a hospital gown. X-rays, CAT scan.
Bi-lateral Pulmonary Embolism. Blood clots on both lungs. Massive clot burden. Enlarged heart. Right side larger than left. It's supposed to be smaller. Laxatives so that I didn't strain. A shot of blood thinner; fire ants directly into my stomach. Another shot. Admittance. The process took until 4am. They finally let me sleep, but every time I dozed off the low oxygen alarm went off and I had to wake up and breathe.
Lisa had called sub finder to arrange for a sub. No way I was going to work. I had left some stuff up on my laptop, thinking I probably would miss Tuesday. I sent several barely coherent emails to the head secretary trying to explain what I had left. Just after seven she told me to stop, just stop. It would be okay. Everything would be taken of.
6:50. I wanted my sister. How to tell her I was in the hospital and hadn't even let her know I was sick? Text: "First, I did not wake up dead this morning. I will give you a moment to rejoice in that fact. *party emojis* Now, on the down side I am in the hospital with blood clots in both lungs. She was there before 8. We found priesthood for a blessing. Relief. All would be well. Jax braided my hair so it would be out of the way and contained.
Cath lab at 11. I have a cardiologist now. They fed two catheters through my jugular vein, through my heart and into my lungs. Ultra-sound to break up the clots, heperin drip to disolve them. I would have to stay quiet and still in bed for 24 hours. I don't do quiet and still. Oh. Quiet and still is not really a problem. The muscles in the right side of my neck braced like they would for any injury and movement became painful. Quiet and still it is!
Next stop: ICU. A nice place really. Brilliant, skilled, kind people taking care of you, tending to your every need. Food that magically appears without preparation or thought. Good, delicious, wonderful food! Magic! Bed pans. Jax says that's an experience everyone should have. I have had it. Not a fan. You get a sponge bath every day in ICU. And a Mersa treatment swab up your nose.And they discovered DVT in my left leg. I've been complaining for years about the left foot being swollen and darker than the right, but it never alarmed anyone. My principal came to visit. Hmm. Not looking my best. Hooked up to two huge machines, wearing a hospital gown and flat on my back. What a sweet thing for him to do!
Jax took the day shift and Sarah and Anthony came down in the evening. Sweet people. Good company. I had a book, a computer with a Netflix password, TV, my phone, my people. Everything a girl could ask for for amusement. Mostly I sat and thought, and meditated, and prayed. The time started off with a priesthood blessing, and became a consecrated time of healing and contemplation. Time ceased to matter, and I never was bored. I sprang a leak once. On blood thinners and bleeding from the jugular. Not a good idea. Told you I don't do quiet and still.
After 24 hours, Dr. Mulamalla came in to take the catheters out. Good. I am tired of them. They make my neck muscles hurt. I can't move my head. I don't dare move my head! I felt the leads as they were withdrawn through my heart. Weird feeling. I started gentle stretches on the poor angry neck muscles. They really were the worst of it.
I moved to a step-down unit. They wanted me to call if I had to go to the bathroom, so I didn't lose my balance and fall. I'm a martial artist! You will be dizzy and off balance. Okay. If it pleases you. First bathroom run, I called. Unhooked from the monitors, bounced out of bed and trotted to the bathroom. The nurse said, "Oh! We don't need to worry about you! You're very mobile. Go ahead and go to the bathroom by yourself." Score one for regular exercise! If you do karate, you can go to the bathroom all by yourself when you get out of ICU!
Cheryl Thompson, my department head, came to visit and brought a sweet card from World Language.
Thursday afternoon I was discharged. It struck me that Dad was discharged from this very hospital on the afternoon of 7 December, seven years ago. I left under my own power.
I finally got the shower I had been wanting so badly all week. Sarah had made my bed with with clean sheets and evacuated Dad's books from the living room to a new bookshelf she had bought and put into the kitten room. How nice to be home! How wonderful to be alive! Dr. Who marathon on the BBCA!
I took a few days off work. I figured almost dead was worth a couple of days off. And I was drained. I went back before break, mostly because there is only one time I can teach Christmas songs. I try to hit two or three staircases on my prep period, but I was really glad for Christmas break.
I am on the mend now. Last Friday was my first good day in a very long time. I got up on time, I got to work on time, and I taught very well. I spend several minutese on my break, at lunch and after school going over a few courses I have mapped out at school, including four to five sets of stairs on each round. I am getting faster and going farther. I can do two flights without being winded, and I can walk to my truck and not have to rest before I drive. I can fix food that needs more than just reheating. I'm going to be okay. Still not back on the bike, but that will come. They aren't totally sure of the clauses of the clots. Some suspects, but I need some more tests to narrow down and eliminate suspects. but I'll be okay.
It might have started in March. I'm not sure. It came on so gradually I don't know for sure when it began. One definite sign was a bike ride to the DMV to register my truck. It was hard. The bike was sluggish and I had to work hard to get there and back. I blamed it on a lack of training rides.
The bike continued sluggish, hard to ride, more of a workout than I bargained for. I took it to the Salt Lake City Bicycle Collective, where I have been volunteering for a couple of years (and the subject of at least one future entry). The Head Wrench, Mollee Bourdos, helped me troubleshoot the problem. Nothing obvious, so we started by pulling the back tire. The rear axle had snapped! No wonder it was hard to ride. And dangerous. The rear wheel could have failed at any time and easily killed me. We replaced the axle, tuned everything up, and I took Gwaihir out for a test run. Still sluggish. We began going over the bicycle piece by piece, replacing the worn parts, Adjusting the complicated parts, trying to get the wind back under his wings.Who knew that bikes need regular maintenance?
At one point I had the wheels off for something or other. My friend Lisa Cook was doing some jobs for Mollee, one of which was clipping the spokes on wheels past their useful life. You guessed it. She merrily clipped the spokes on my wheels! I was in the back getting a part when she asked if she should clip those wheels. In her defense, she immediately pulled the right length of new spokes and was going to reweave them. Then, on closer inspectionm she had done the right thing. They were worn past safe use. New wheels for me! It went on like that, until the only original things left are the fork, the frame, the seat post and the pedals. Total rebuild!
But still the bike was sluggish. I got winded going to work, and that's downhill. My asthma was acting up. The inversion settled in. The Christmas trees came into the valley. All things that affect my asthma and my allergies. Stepped up the asthma treatment. Soldiered on.
Monday, 4 December 2017. Regular day at the office. And Parent/Teacher Conferences. And closing night for Cori Connors' Christmas concert. I design and run lights for her every year, as some people still appreciate my mad skills. I taught my 4th period 1st years a new villancico a Spanish Christmas song, becasue, music. I put on my guitar (a beautiful second hand, full sized classical that I bought with the stipend from Cori's concert last year) and started to sing with them. Tried to sing with them. Two words and I had to suck serious air. Okay, this is a problem. I had probably steered into bronchitis territory. Okay. We'll deal with that as soon as possible.
Walked down to the new library for dinner before PTCs. Had to sit down as soon as there was a surface so I could catch my breath. Someone asked if I were having an anxiety attack. I responded, no, asthma. I borrowed Lisa's inhaler since I had not brought mine, but it didn't help. Out of breath even eating. This might be pneumonia? Spent most of PTCs in my chair, working on stuff on the computer. Got up periodically to install command strips across the back of my room. I had five new light strings to put up, and thought maybe my lunch bunch would like to put them up tomorrow. About four I texted Sarah and told her I was in trouble. She immediately texted Lisa, who was going to attend my concert.
Lisa rode with me to the concert instead of going on her own. Climbing the stairs to the booth was a new adventure in slowness and air sucking. Leaned on the door to catch breath before walking the ten feet to the light board. Dang. Please don't make me go downstairs to the bathroom. No, I don't need any water. I'm good. Thank you.
The concert was brilliant as always. Some of the more poignant songs brought me to tears. Heard them before. Love them. Can't handle them this year. Had to decline the after-party. Dang. Good party. Don't want to miss.
Drove down the street to U of U instacare.Took a while to get the story out of why I was there. Couldn't breathe and talk at the same time. Blood ox sat: 60. Resting heart rate: 115. They didn't want to see me. After hearing my story and seeing my sats, they had a suspicion. Blood clot. Emergency Room. Now. Lisa took the truck keys and we left for Lakeview. I was taken in immediately. No waiting.
The ER doctor was furious. Symptoms presented at two? It's 11:30 and I'm only now getting to the ER? Yes. The show must go on. That is reality, not just a saying. There were butts in seats expecting a show. PTCs are not negotiable. And I could still walk, even if slowly, I was walking. No big deal. Surrendered my show black for a hospital gown. X-rays, CAT scan.
Bi-lateral Pulmonary Embolism. Blood clots on both lungs. Massive clot burden. Enlarged heart. Right side larger than left. It's supposed to be smaller. Laxatives so that I didn't strain. A shot of blood thinner; fire ants directly into my stomach. Another shot. Admittance. The process took until 4am. They finally let me sleep, but every time I dozed off the low oxygen alarm went off and I had to wake up and breathe.
Lisa had called sub finder to arrange for a sub. No way I was going to work. I had left some stuff up on my laptop, thinking I probably would miss Tuesday. I sent several barely coherent emails to the head secretary trying to explain what I had left. Just after seven she told me to stop, just stop. It would be okay. Everything would be taken of.
6:50. I wanted my sister. How to tell her I was in the hospital and hadn't even let her know I was sick? Text: "First, I did not wake up dead this morning. I will give you a moment to rejoice in that fact. *party emojis* Now, on the down side I am in the hospital with blood clots in both lungs. She was there before 8. We found priesthood for a blessing. Relief. All would be well. Jax braided my hair so it would be out of the way and contained.
Cath lab at 11. I have a cardiologist now. They fed two catheters through my jugular vein, through my heart and into my lungs. Ultra-sound to break up the clots, heperin drip to disolve them. I would have to stay quiet and still in bed for 24 hours. I don't do quiet and still. Oh. Quiet and still is not really a problem. The muscles in the right side of my neck braced like they would for any injury and movement became painful. Quiet and still it is!
Next stop: ICU. A nice place really. Brilliant, skilled, kind people taking care of you, tending to your every need. Food that magically appears without preparation or thought. Good, delicious, wonderful food! Magic! Bed pans. Jax says that's an experience everyone should have. I have had it. Not a fan. You get a sponge bath every day in ICU. And a Mersa treatment swab up your nose.And they discovered DVT in my left leg. I've been complaining for years about the left foot being swollen and darker than the right, but it never alarmed anyone. My principal came to visit. Hmm. Not looking my best. Hooked up to two huge machines, wearing a hospital gown and flat on my back. What a sweet thing for him to do!
Jax took the day shift and Sarah and Anthony came down in the evening. Sweet people. Good company. I had a book, a computer with a Netflix password, TV, my phone, my people. Everything a girl could ask for for amusement. Mostly I sat and thought, and meditated, and prayed. The time started off with a priesthood blessing, and became a consecrated time of healing and contemplation. Time ceased to matter, and I never was bored. I sprang a leak once. On blood thinners and bleeding from the jugular. Not a good idea. Told you I don't do quiet and still.
After 24 hours, Dr. Mulamalla came in to take the catheters out. Good. I am tired of them. They make my neck muscles hurt. I can't move my head. I don't dare move my head! I felt the leads as they were withdrawn through my heart. Weird feeling. I started gentle stretches on the poor angry neck muscles. They really were the worst of it.
I moved to a step-down unit. They wanted me to call if I had to go to the bathroom, so I didn't lose my balance and fall. I'm a martial artist! You will be dizzy and off balance. Okay. If it pleases you. First bathroom run, I called. Unhooked from the monitors, bounced out of bed and trotted to the bathroom. The nurse said, "Oh! We don't need to worry about you! You're very mobile. Go ahead and go to the bathroom by yourself." Score one for regular exercise! If you do karate, you can go to the bathroom all by yourself when you get out of ICU!
Cheryl Thompson, my department head, came to visit and brought a sweet card from World Language.
Thursday afternoon I was discharged. It struck me that Dad was discharged from this very hospital on the afternoon of 7 December, seven years ago. I left under my own power.
I finally got the shower I had been wanting so badly all week. Sarah had made my bed with with clean sheets and evacuated Dad's books from the living room to a new bookshelf she had bought and put into the kitten room. How nice to be home! How wonderful to be alive! Dr. Who marathon on the BBCA!
I took a few days off work. I figured almost dead was worth a couple of days off. And I was drained. I went back before break, mostly because there is only one time I can teach Christmas songs. I try to hit two or three staircases on my prep period, but I was really glad for Christmas break.
I am on the mend now. Last Friday was my first good day in a very long time. I got up on time, I got to work on time, and I taught very well. I spend several minutese on my break, at lunch and after school going over a few courses I have mapped out at school, including four to five sets of stairs on each round. I am getting faster and going farther. I can do two flights without being winded, and I can walk to my truck and not have to rest before I drive. I can fix food that needs more than just reheating. I'm going to be okay. Still not back on the bike, but that will come. They aren't totally sure of the clauses of the clots. Some suspects, but I need some more tests to narrow down and eliminate suspects. but I'll be okay.