The Perfect Storm Part 2

If you haven't read about my "perfect storm" yet, go here first. Here is the continuation:

So I came home Thursday night after being in the hospital for 2 days. Friday things seemed to be going well. I went to bed around 11:30 after feeding Little Miss. About 2:00 a.m. I woke up suddenly. The best way I can describe it is how people wake up in the movies when they are having a nightmare, only I wasn't having a nightmare (of that kind, anyway). I sat straight up in bed with a huge gasp. I don't know exactly what happened, but I think I had stopped breathing.

I could tell something was just wrong. I felt for my pulse. It took me a second to find it because it was so weak. I timed my pulse. And I timed it again. And again. I thought I was doing it wrong because I never got a pulse above 36. JC kept insisting that couldn't be right. I was coherent and talking and could walk. Again, I kept thinking something was just weird and I didn't really have a pulse that low. So basically, it wasn't until about an hour later when I went and woke my mom up that we went to the ER. At least someone was thinking straight!

When they took me back, I know the nurses were dubious about how low my heart rate actually was. But as soon as they hooked me up, I could tell on the nurse's face that something was very wrong. She kept staring at the monitor and finally says, "You are low..." and hustles out the door. I look up at the monitor and it says my pulse is 32. The next thing I know I have people hooking feeds up to me and sticking an IV in my arm and all kinds of stuff. They took my blood pressure. Then switched the arm and took it again to make sure it was right. That is because my blood pressure was 214/107! They gave me a dose of high blood pressure medicine to get it under control.

The doctor came in and basically said they didn't have any idea why/how my pulse could be so low and my blood pressure so high. They sent me off for a CT of my heart. It came back fine. Then they admitted me to the hospital.

I was in the hospital from Saturday early morning through Tuesday late afternoon. I was continuously hooked up to a heart monitor, and for the first 24 hours, a saline IV to flush out my system. For the first couple of days, my pulse stayed in the 40s, dipping into the 30s when I slept. Then it started hanging out in the 50s, but still dipping. The last days I was there it was staying in the 50s - 60s. My blood pressure was all over the place. They gave me blood pressure medicine to keep it under control. I was continually dizzy. I had an echo cardiogram done, a head CT, an MRI, blood work, urine samples, etc. etc. and they couldn't find anything wrong at all.

On Sunday morning about 4:00 a.m. I started to break out in hives on my legs. It was nothing compared to before, but they were coming back. So the nurse gave me an IV steroid and Benadryl through the IV. When she gave me the Benadryl, I immediately felt something was wrong. It is hard to describe, but it was like I could feel a heaviness over my entire chest and in my throat. I told her something was wrong and to take my vitals again. She had just taken them about 3 minutes before she gave me the IV. She took them again and my pulse had dropped by about 10 and my blood pressure was up. She started making phone calls because apparently no one reacts to Benadryl - it's the drug they give people to counteract reactions.

Thankfully, the pressure feeling passed and everything was ok. But it was obvious I had had a reaction to the Benadryl. I told her it is probably because I had been juiced up on it since Monday. I think I was OD'd on it. Needless to say, I was scared to go to sleep again. You know it's a bad sign when the nurse is trying to comfort you by telling you that they are monitoring your heart continuously and that if something did happen, they had their handy little atropine shot taped to your bed for immediate use.

The next day they wanted to give me an oral antihistamine and steroid to keep the hives at bay, but I wouldn't take them. I was freaked out and basically had a mini meltdown on them. I wasn't rude or anything, but I'm sure they made note of the crazy lady in room 15. I was mad, though. I felt like I had been there and no one was doing anything except trying to give me more drugs and no one had any answers. The cardiologist who was assigned rounds had spent a total of about one minute with me. On top of that, they had moved another lady in the room with me and so now I was in this little cramped room where there was no way all my, shall we say "energetic", kids could come and see me. And I missed my new baby. A lot.

The new shift of nurses were the ones who got the benefit of the meltdown, but they were very kind and did what they could to make me happier. They didn't make me feel dumb for not wanting to take the additional meds especially since no one could say whether or not all the meds I was on was what had put me in there in the first place. They moved me to a private room so the boys could come up without disturbing (or harming) any other patient. They unhooked me from everything and let me take a shower. And the atropine shot was moved to the wall instead of taped right on my bed. JC and my mom brought the kids up and that raised my spirits. They would come up once a day, and then JC would come back at night, usually with the baby.

But there were still no answers. There still are no answers. They kept me monitored and kept giving me the high blood pressure medicine. I was still dizzy. And my heart rate would change quite a bit between lying down, sitting up, and standing. But by Tuesday my pulse was staying in the 60s and my blood pressure was under control, so I was discharged that afternoon. I was pretty wiped out, but now that I've been home for a few days the dizziness is less and I don't feel as wasted.

I am taking Norvasc for high blood pressure and have to wear a heart monitor 24/7 with live monitoring for 3 weeks and then I will see a cardiologist. The best they could tell me is that it was probably just a one-time glitch that my body spazzed out because it brewed the perfect storm with being postpartum, having such a severe allergic reaction, being on so many meds, etc. I hope that is the case and things will get back to normal.

I feel like I have always been grateful for my strong, healthy body, but something like this really makes you value your health even more. My hat is off to those people who have to deal with a chronic illness, because just dealing with this for the past week has been one of the toughest things I've ever done. I was having to give myself positive pep talks, just so I wouldn't get demoralized. And that was just dealing with it for a few days!

Something like this affects everyone. I feel bad for my parents. I feel bad for JC - I think he lost about 10 pounds and got about 150 more gray hairs. I feel bad for my kids. Little Man still doesn't want to go anywhere without me. I feel bad for Little Miss. I've never been away from any of my kids when they were this young. And because of all this, the time away, and the medication I'm on, I'm not able to nurse Little Miss anymore which made me sad. It still makes me sad. I had already gone through the crappy part at the beginning and things were getting good and then I had to stop abruptly. Not that I'm a nipple nazi and think you are a bad mom if you give your kid formula, but I guess I never fully appreciated being able to breastfeed my kids until that choice was taken away. I guess the bright side of it is that JC got more bonding time than he has ever had with any of our new babies.

I want to send a special THANK YOU out to my mom. I am so so so grateful that she was here during the week. She kept the house intact and running, kept the kids fed, clothed, and entertained, and enabled JC to be up at the hospital with me. Mom, you are a ROCK STAR. I know it was exhausting. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I will keep you posted on any changes or on the follow-up when I see the cardiologist. Thanks for your well-wishes and prayers!