Oh so much excitement around here! After bragging about my excellent recuperation from the hysterectomy, I took a turn for the worse on Sunday. That night as I was getting ready for bed, I knew something was wrong, so I called Carey to help me get to bed. On the way, I collapsed onto the floor and stopped breathing. Carey was able to revive me (so glad he thinks I'm worth reviving!), and called 911. Response time is not that great when you live four miles north of nowhere.
So I had my second ambulance ride in less than 12 months. They took me to the nearest hospital (where I swore I would never be a patient), and there I stayed until last night, Friday. It seems I had a lung full of blood clots. The pulmonologist called my CT scan "scary."
My poor arms are bruised and punctured from knuckles to shoulders from the IVs and countless blood draws. My left forearm is swollen and painful from an infected IV site. I don't even want to think about the forthcoming bills. ugh And I haven't even gotten my staples out of the initial surgery incision yet.
I had great doctors near and far (especially my gynecologist who did the initial surgery, who phoned me, prayed with me, and consulted with the local doctors). I had wonderful, fabulous, lovely nurses and aides who were incredibly overworked (not just because of me) during the time I was with them, but always remained cheerful, caring, and encouraging. While I dreaded all the needles that came my way, the ones who were holding the needles made it bearable. And did I mention the skilled (and cute) EMTs?
So just when I was saying how tired I was of doctor visits, I have a few more in my near future till we get some meds regulated. And you know what? I'll be happy doing it, because I'm still here and I am thankful!
I really wish I could figure out whatever it is God is trying to teach me. May I be open to His will.
Strep & the Croup
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