Another Hospital Stay

I would’ve written earlier but I only recently regained use of my right elbow. I realize that statement leaves one desiring some context or background information, so let me explain.

I was admitted to the hospital for the second time in less than 3 weeks last Monday night (technically Tuesday morning, since I was admitted at 4:30 am, but that’s another story/blog post). Since my Hickman was removed during my last hospital stay (awesome), I had to get a regular IV for my IV antibiotics and fluid during this hospital stay (not awesome). In an attempt to avoid the bruising that resulted from the IV placed in my forearm during my last hospital stay, I requested this IV be placed at my elbow (medical people have some technical name for this location that I’ve never cared enough to learn). The IV placement actually went fairly well for me, meaning that it took only 3 nurses and 4 attempts, but the IV rendered the bending of my right elbow nearly impossible, making dressing, brushing my teeth, eating, and typing rather difficult. Add that to being seriously sleep-deprived, and blog-posting was not at the top of my list.

The reason I was sleep-deprived is that I arrived at the ER on Monday evening around 6:45 pm and wasn’t admitted to 1 North until 4:30 am, as I mentioned earlier. For the first 2 of those 9.5 hours in the ER, I was in immense pain, for the first 3, I had a fever, and for the entire time, my systolic blood pressure was under 100 (mostly running in the 80s/30s). Needless to say, I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I reached my hospital room, but procedure dictates that once the patient arrives, he or she must be thoroughly interrogated (for lack of a better word, but rather fitting at 4:30 am) regarding timing and dosage of medications, reason for coming to the ER, and pain level. I underwent this interrogation in addition to a complete medical examination by a handful of nurses and doctors, each of whom must have believed that his or her stethoscope yielded a unique result, since each insisted on pressing it all over my chest and back as I took deep breaths. By the time the entire process was over, it was about 7 am, and I was beyond cranky. Zack and I were able to catch a few hours of sleep between 7 and 11 am Tuesday morning, but we were physically and emotionally wiped out.

Tuesday night around 10 pm, I was looking forward to a much better night sleep when I was informed by my nurse that I had 3 upcoming blood draws. In the middle of the night. Since my IV wasn’t giving any blood return, these blood draws would have to be peripheral needle pokes. Let me repeat: in the middle of the night. I threw a mini-fit, cried a little, and then resigned myself to the facts. Shockingly, I endured the 3 blood draws, at 12 am, 1:30 am, and 3 am, with a dressing change thrown in at 2 am, each of which took about 20-30 minutes and consisted of nurses turning on all the lights and speaking at a volume better suited for a concert than a hospital room, without throwing anything or hitting anyone. Amazingly, I was even fairly alert on Wednesday and enjoyed visits from several friends.

Every hospital stay is difficult; no matter how many times I’ve been in this situation, it doesn’t get easier. But I’m grateful to be back home and back to my normal routine. Here’s to hoping the next one will be MUCH longer than 3 weeks away.

Yoga

I woke up today feeling like my limbs had been torn from my body. Every muscle hurt, even ones I didn’t know I had, like those along the sides of my neck or behind my knees. The reason? Yoga.

Last week I decided to kick my own butt and get a gym membership, partly because I’m much more motivated to exercise when someone else is walking me through it, partly because I’m too self-conscious to quit mid-workout when I’m in a room full of people, and mostly because I’m so cheap that if I pay for it, I know I’ll force myself to use it. I used my membership for the first time yesterday when I attended a morning yoga class at 24 hour fitness. I had to pray about my fears and insecurities on the way to the gym because it’s been over two years since I did any form of exercise besides walking outside of the comfort and privacy of my own home. I’ve lifted 3 lbs. weights and Hula-hooped to the Wii Fit from time to time, but actually taking a class with other capable, motivated, healthy people watching was a whole different thing. I prayed to focus on the victory of my simply attending the class, regardless of how many moves I was able to complete or how my body or abilities compared to those of others in the class. In fact, I prayed to not even think about others’ abilities, but just to focus on enjoying my time and relishing the progress I’ve made and the beginning of a new step in my journey.

Luckily, my friend attended the class with me, so I wasn’t alone in laying out my mat and nervously waiting for the limber instructor to begin the workout. And boy, was she limber. I swear she moved her body in ways I didn’t think were possible. When she arched her back and held her feet behind her in a “boat pose,” I stared in awe. When she then proceeded to roll from side to side, I almost burst out laughing. But although I couldn’t perform all of the moves perfectly (or even partially at times), I still felt a sense of satisfaction and victory after the class. And though I walked around today like an eighty-year-old woman, I’m looking forward to attending class tomorrow :).