(no subject)
When last we saw our heroine, she was in a hospital gown..
After being set up in my room, Jeff had to go home. It was late and he had to work the next day. So I was alone, and that was terrifying. They took more blood, and put another IV in me (so I had one in each arm), and let me sleep for a few hours.
Saturday morning I called my mom. We don't talk much - we don't really get along well. She of course freaked out, because I could barely get out what the problem was. She was able to come visit me soon after. She brought my grandparents and uncle. Over the course of my 4 day stay, I had a ton of people visit me: maternal grandparents, both parents, great aunt, uncle, sister, half-brother, and of course my boyfriend. I also had my other half-brother, two cousins, and my other uncle call me. People I hadn't spoken to in years, for the most part.
At some point on Saturday I was sent in for a Doppler study. This is basically an ultrasound of the legs, to make sure there are no more clots, as this is usually where they start. It was also kind of terrifying - the woman took a lot of pictures and said nothing, just looked worried. So I thought I must have had a ton of them. They took forever to give me the results, but it was negative, I have no more clots.
The rest of my visit was pretty boring. I wasn't alone much, thankfully. And I had no more crazy tests. I did have a crap ton of blood taken, and each time was awful. I have bruises all over my arms and hands. I also had my blood pressure and oxygen levels taken a million times. My heart rate was consistently high at first, which worried the nurses. But it got better as I calmed down and realized I wasn't actually dying. Of course no one thought to tell me this - no one said "You're going to be okay." It would have been nice to hear that.
I was originally going to be released on Monday, but no one communicated with anyone else. The nurse had no idea, the doctor didn't speak to her, and so on. The next nurse that came in asked ME why I was still there. Finally, on Tuesday, I was allowed to leave. It took forever. I had been getting injections of blood-thinner into my belly, and I needed another. A nursing student came in to do that kind of stuff to get me ready to go. She did it the wrong way - it's a subcutaneous injection and there are two ways to do it. This one needed a 90 degree angle though. She did it at some other angle and it made me scream. I still have a giant purple and yellow bruise where she did that.
My mom and I took a cab back to my house, and I finally got a shower. It was the most fantastic shower I think I've ever had. When Jeff got home, he gave my mom a ride to the Metro, and we went to get my prescriptions. Two blood thinners (one is the injection), and a pain killer. A total of $100 for all three. Thankfully the really expensive one, the injection, is only needed for 7 days. If I didn't have insurance that would cost me $1000. Holy poop.
I go to the Coumadin clinic - where they test my blood levels to be sure I am clotting the right amount - on Wednesday. I am not looking forward to it at all. I'm going to have to go to these often, unfortunately. I'll be on this medication for at least 6 months, maybe more. And while I'm on it, I can't do anything that might get me cut or bruised - if I do, I could bleed out. I also have to wear a medical alert bracelet, stating that I am taking them.
But hey, I'm alive. Yay.
After being set up in my room, Jeff had to go home. It was late and he had to work the next day. So I was alone, and that was terrifying. They took more blood, and put another IV in me (so I had one in each arm), and let me sleep for a few hours.
Saturday morning I called my mom. We don't talk much - we don't really get along well. She of course freaked out, because I could barely get out what the problem was. She was able to come visit me soon after. She brought my grandparents and uncle. Over the course of my 4 day stay, I had a ton of people visit me: maternal grandparents, both parents, great aunt, uncle, sister, half-brother, and of course my boyfriend. I also had my other half-brother, two cousins, and my other uncle call me. People I hadn't spoken to in years, for the most part.
At some point on Saturday I was sent in for a Doppler study. This is basically an ultrasound of the legs, to make sure there are no more clots, as this is usually where they start. It was also kind of terrifying - the woman took a lot of pictures and said nothing, just looked worried. So I thought I must have had a ton of them. They took forever to give me the results, but it was negative, I have no more clots.
The rest of my visit was pretty boring. I wasn't alone much, thankfully. And I had no more crazy tests. I did have a crap ton of blood taken, and each time was awful. I have bruises all over my arms and hands. I also had my blood pressure and oxygen levels taken a million times. My heart rate was consistently high at first, which worried the nurses. But it got better as I calmed down and realized I wasn't actually dying. Of course no one thought to tell me this - no one said "You're going to be okay." It would have been nice to hear that.
I was originally going to be released on Monday, but no one communicated with anyone else. The nurse had no idea, the doctor didn't speak to her, and so on. The next nurse that came in asked ME why I was still there. Finally, on Tuesday, I was allowed to leave. It took forever. I had been getting injections of blood-thinner into my belly, and I needed another. A nursing student came in to do that kind of stuff to get me ready to go. She did it the wrong way - it's a subcutaneous injection and there are two ways to do it. This one needed a 90 degree angle though. She did it at some other angle and it made me scream. I still have a giant purple and yellow bruise where she did that.
My mom and I took a cab back to my house, and I finally got a shower. It was the most fantastic shower I think I've ever had. When Jeff got home, he gave my mom a ride to the Metro, and we went to get my prescriptions. Two blood thinners (one is the injection), and a pain killer. A total of $100 for all three. Thankfully the really expensive one, the injection, is only needed for 7 days. If I didn't have insurance that would cost me $1000. Holy poop.
I go to the Coumadin clinic - where they test my blood levels to be sure I am clotting the right amount - on Wednesday. I am not looking forward to it at all. I'm going to have to go to these often, unfortunately. I'll be on this medication for at least 6 months, maybe more. And while I'm on it, I can't do anything that might get me cut or bruised - if I do, I could bleed out. I also have to wear a medical alert bracelet, stating that I am taking them.
But hey, I'm alive. Yay.