Showing posts with label ER. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ER. Show all posts

Friday, November 09, 2018

The Story Continued ~ ER 3

Job 27:3 “All the while my breath is in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils;”


You might not see ER visits as answered prayer but this second ER visit is where I got a referral to an Oncologist after this sympathetic ER doctor heard my story of being turned away from my first two oncologists.

I had told my husband and son of MY wishes and I wanted their blunt honesty in THEIR wishes. Both wanted me to live and try the chemo route, maybe my way wasn't working anymore. No, this was not my wish, but I gave into half their wish, I made an appointment to go see the oncologist doctor. I respect their wishes because I too, don’t want to die. My alternative protocol had been working all along but the stress of a dying dog was too overwhelming and my body reacted; mind, body, and soul, internally and externally.

For eight months I watched as my 14-year-old dog slowly dwindled. Right around Christmas of 2017, she showed signs of her arthritis winning the battle of her bones. She was not making it up the steps too well and a month or two passed as we carried her up the stairs on a daily basis. We knew what was inevitable but no one wanted to face or admit what was happening. Everything I had tried was simply a pacifier and got her to August where the heartbreak became an inevitable reality. We had to let her go to release her from the constant pain we knew she was enduring. 

Eight months of stress. I had done the research and knew wholeheartedly that stress was an enormous factor in the onset and the spreading of this dreaded disease but I was so hellbent on my protocol, I didn’t see the failure for what it was. I was still feeling great, walking, riding my bike, eating right and taking my vitamins but slowly the walking became strenuous. Month after month walking worsened and I blamed everything except what the culprit was, STRESS was beating me over the head with a lead pipe, stress was winning the battle.

How do I know that stress was the culprit? As soon as we put our beloved Sassy to sleep, strangely things started to happen to me in great succession. I told you I’d straighten out the timeline in the editing phase of this story, but yeah, the ball started rolling and still to this day has not stopped. It has lost momentum but that’s a good thing, it means I’m gaining balance over the situation again.

Rolling along, I called the oncologists number and the secretary told me that the (prescribed) doctor was only available at the hospital, she could hook me up with (no name) the first oncologist that dumped me, I told her no way and she offered yet another colleague of the first oncologist. The appointment was made and now everything snowballed. 

The first appointment went as expected. My husband and I sat listening as we were told that chemo was the only way to go if I wanted any quality of life. I stood firm in my stance with my protocol but admitted stress had won out and I needed help. He almost laughed at my protocol and what I’d been doing for a year and a half, but the first blood test showed, I had done something right. He admitted that I had done a good job in taking care of myself. But now it was his turn if I’d allow.

I asked him about the Oral Chemo I had seen and read about, he said the product was still in trial phases and I asked why I was seeing commercials on TV for stage 4 ER+ PR+? Hmm...he left the room and came back and offered an Oral Chemo real quick as well as monitoring blood tests and a listening ear. He was hearing me for the first time, someone in the medical field was listening and hearing me. He also wanted me to see an orthopedic surgeon to see about the pain in my hip. But first he put me right in touch with Physical Therapy for my lymphedema in my arm and that also led to a Home Health nurse coming to check up on me.

I didn’t get to see the Orthopod (as nurses called them) before my third visit to the ER via ambulance. Once again, I was in pain, called 911, the ambulance came and I was scooted onto the gurney and taken to the hospital. As I was leaving, the Home Health nurse was coming to my door wondering what was going on. I let my husband and son handle her as for the third time, I was being escorted to the emergency room. The Volunteer Emergency Unit now called me by name. I joked on the ride so as not to let worry consume me. They always agreed that laughter was the best medicine.

X-rays once again, this one of my hip. This is the one that told the story of my disease basically eating away at my hip bone and causing them to be brittle. I was told my right leg was the one in most severe trouble and to guard it. I was put on morphine and sent home. My Oncologist and Orthopod both knew of the visit to the ER and reached out to me for a visit with each of them respectively. Both had dire prognosis’, use a walker at all times and look into buying a wheelchair. 

I let my left leg do all the work for my right leg. I was in a lot of pain when I walked so we ordered a wheelchair and it was on its way. Fear had now slithered into the place where stress has dwelled. My life was failing and I needed help that only my great God could give! I think prayer is the only thing to save me now. 

Jonah 2:7 "When my soul fainted within me I remembered the LORD: and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple."



Thursday, November 08, 2018

The Story Begins - ER visit One

2 Cor.12:9 "And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly, therefore, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

ER visit One...

The first ER visit was the one that got the pebble rolling wherever I was being led on this path. The ride of a lifetime was sweeping me into its arms. And so the journey began. I'm not going for time consistency right now and will get back to it at the editing phase and make the timeline more clear. After the first ER visit, everything seems a fog, it was the first time in many many years that a hardcore drug entered my body, Percocet.

I couldn't breathe that night, my chest seemed to be tightening, the air in my lungs minimal and by morning, Steven accidentally missing his alarm, called for him to be at home that day and me needing to be driven to the ER. We drove to the Emergency Room entrance, pivoting to a (hospital owned) wheelchair, making it from car to hospital sign in, the formality and tagging began. This is where my birthdate would be the most uttered words over the next couple of months.

The ER2, 3, and 4 were all maddening visits in their own stage. While in ER1 I was told what the x-ray had shown. That my disease had metastasized (spread) to my liver. "Mets to the liver," he said. I didn't blink. I sat, I stared and quite honestly thought, 'and so it begins'. Don't ask me what 'it' was, I hadn't figured that part out but was assured in the deepest depths of my being, my sacred place, that I would know, and also I would know when it was time to share.

I left the hospital in tears, only a cane in my hand and my husband by my side. A blur, that is the only way I can describe it. I felt like I wanted to shelter this news in a cocoon and allow only one or two (okay, maybe three) people know that I was now Stage 4? I think that's what they call it when it has spread. Hey, some is still a blur. I'm still in my healing phase. It was at this time that I was told that I should use a walker at all times and think about getting a wheelchair. I should also make an appointment with my GP (General Practitioner) if for my pain and my inability to breath should I need medication to continue. The spot, I was told, was pressing on my lungs, making it feel like the air was being restricted. My oxygen level was 97%. 

Rolling right along I went. I made a GP appointment and thus began the struggle between illness and law. She was hesitant in prescribing Percocet 'because of the 'LAW', so she prescribed a delicate drug that did minimal assistance to my pain. Being raised in MG's placed me in the ER again, the pain too much to bear.

ER2 found me visiting by my first ever ambulance ride. Unable to breathe and a lot of pain in my lower extremities. The meds my GP gave me, obviously were not working and little did I know that the Opioid crisis running rampant across the nation would imprison medication to aid me but could be prescribed for 30 days only, then its, "SUFFER American, your illness means nothing to us, we have a drug problem here!" My illness is defined by legalities, stigmas and the good old Almighty Dollar! UNLESS you find a caring doctor.  

This doctor had NO PROBLEM prescribing my medication. I am Stage 4, what's going to happen to me, I'm going to become addicted in a couple of months or worse overdose and die? Get in line, we're all going to die some way somehow eventually and DRUGS are NOT going to take ME down! BUT I was now given a choice. I was ‘encouraged’ to go the chemo route. I was gently nudged to an Oncologist. I also sat nodding my head in utter disbelief I was going through this. I needed my son and husband. I had no idea what to do.

I think this is where I hopped on the merry-go-round for a spell. FEAR wrapped its long fingers around my neck gripping with flames of fire. Messages, mixed and otherwise were scrambling through my head. I heard them but I could not discern. Surely enough, I was on the fatal merry-go-round from a Ray Bradbury novel.

Friends and family were getting concerned, seeing that this was my second visit to the ER after all. I made the decision to see an Oncologist. Miracles were evident and prayers were being answered at this time. Some people like instantaneous answers to prayers but I AM LIVING PROOF, prayers are answered in the most minute ways. You might not see Steven missing his alarm clock as an answered prayer, but had he been at work and I, home alone? ER visit 2 brought me to a possible third oncologist looking at my disease since last year.
Think about the ramifications had God not intervened.

To be continued…

“Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” 1 Peter 4:10 (NIV)