I spent the last two nights in the hospital. On Sunday, I had flu-like symptoms all day. Major body aches and pains, intense headache, chills, no appetite. The usual stuff that comes with the flu. Finally at about 7 p.m. I decided to take my temperature. I was shocked that the thermometer read 101.7. My post-op instructions said that if I had a fever nearing 101, I was to call the on-call doctor right away. So I called. I didn't get Dr. Guber, he wasn't on call. I ended up talking to another doc, Dr. Kessler. Nice guy. But he wasn't too sure on the plan of action. My level of confidence in him diminished a bit as he said "I don't know" about 10 times. Finally he said that it was probably the flu, but the safest thing would be to have me check back into the hospital. They would need to run blood cultures to make sure I didn't have a bacterial infection in my body, especially on my new aortic graft.
Because it was bedtime and the kids were a little, uh, crazy, I decided to ask my friend, Chris, to take me to the hospital. Marlo really needed to get the kids to bed. Chris drove me to the hospital and stayed with me while I had my IV put in, blood drawn and monitors put on. She's a great friend. (She even came by on Monday to visit and bring me shampoo, People magazine and a Starbucks. Now that's a good friend!!) The nurse laughed at us when we asked if I would be able to go home that night. No such luck.
I spent the night dealing with a massive headache and sweating profusely. Hospital beds really aren't that "breathable." The mattress is vinyl and even though it's covered with a cotton sheet and a pad, you are going to sweat. And even more so if you are laying in that bed with a high fever. So I'd wake up in the middle of the night with damp sheets, gown, hair, and pillow. It was gross. My sheets were changed each morning, but still, it was gross. And because you are damp, everytime you get out of bed, or adjust yourself, or the air hits you, you get cold. I rotated between freezing and frying for two days. Thank goodness I was able to shower that first morning.
On Monday morning, Dr. Guber and his nurse practitioner, Sara, came by to see me. Dr. Guber explained that they needed to wait several hours for the preliminary blood culture results to show up. He figured I would be able to go home that afternoon, if the results were negative. He did tell me that my regular blood test showed that I had low white blood cells and he said I probably just caught a bug. But, they aren't going to risk anything since I was only 3 weeks post-op. Plus, they were concered about the now migraine-like headache I had. My headache was only on the left side of my head, around the temple, eyebrow and forehead and above my ear. Occasionally, I'd get a pulse of shooting pain. I had been given a combo of 600 mg Motrin and two Tylenols to take care of the headache. That drug combo seemed to take the edge off the headache. At about 3 p.m. on Monday, a good 4 hours since I had taken anything for the headache, Sara came in to tell me that they weren't going to give me anything for the headache because the Motrin and Tylenol mask a fever. They needed to see if I spiked a fever again, so I had to suffer for most of the day with a splitting headache, sweating like a pig with no appetite at all. Sara also mentioned that the blood cultures would take a good 24 hours until there were any results. It looked like I was in for another night at the hospital. My temperature stayed between 98 and 99 during the day and finally at 8 p.m., Dorothy, the nice nurse, gave me drugs. I loved Dorothy. About an hour later, my headache wasn't so intense.
This morning, I got word that my preliminary blood cultures were negative. Good news. I could go home. I still have a bit of a headache on the left side, with occasional, quick shooting pains. In a day or two, I will get the final results of the other blood cultures. I'm pretty sure they will be negative. At least I hope so.
I never want to go back to the hospital. It's such a bad place to be. Yes the nurses are nice, but it's still not a place I ever want to spend any more time. Marlo works with hospital people everyday. And he really loves his job. But he saw a different perspective in the last few weeks. It's really not a good place to be as a patient. It's quite depressing to be a patient. Of course, I am only speaking for myself, my experience.
Yesterday, I found out something interesting about my incision. I recently noticed a bump under the skin, right next to the incision about one inch from the bottom. The bump feels like a little bone fragment or something. It is kind of smooth and round and definitely noticable on my chest. Sara took a look and with total confidence told me that the bump is a WIRE used to hold together my breastbone. Apparently when they wire my bone back together they end up twisting the wires together, like a twist-tie, and then tuck the ends down. She said my bump was the part where it was twisted. She said that since I don't have any fat or "extra padding" in that part of my body, the wire will be noticable. Hmm, nobody ever told me this!! She also said that they could eventually take out that part of the wire, but I'd have to go in for outpatient surgery and be knocked out so they could cut it out. I'm not sure taking it out is worth surgery again. I guess I'll wait and see how it looks. I really don't want to ever go back to the hospital.
Right now I'm still feeling a little sick. I have remnants of the headache and occasional shooting pain on the left side. And I have a new kind of chest pain today. Of course the pain happened after I left the hospital. I feel like my incision is raised a bit on the top. It's extra tender there. And then, for the first time since my surgery, I have a pain inside my chest. Not bone or skin related. But it sort of comes and goes. If I still have it tomorrow, I'll call Sara and ask what she thinks. I hope she doesn't recommend me coming in. Did I mention that I NEVER want to go back to the hospital!?!?
It was great to see my kids today. When I picked them up from school, they both ran up to me and hugged me. But I feel a bit disconnected from them. I can't pick them up or run around and be goofy with them. And this might sound weird, but they look like they grew up in the two days I was in the hospital. I'm feeling like I am missing out on their lives right now. I can't fully parent the way I want to because of my physical limitations. And I get tired more often and need to rest. So I'm not fun-mom anymore. I guess I need to remind myself that they are still little and will probably not remember this sad summer. I'm already planning on how I will make it up to them in the future. Fun trips, movies, treats, etc.
I'm hoping for a comfortable, sweat-free sleep tonight.
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