Writing my survivor story out is therapeutic for me. It’s a way to release and find closure, and having it written out means I can come back to it later and relive it if I need to. I find that when I go through something traumatic, sometimes I need to relive it — to remember it happened and it makes me who I am. I often go back and read my miscarriage story on the anniversary of it. My reason for writing it out here and sharing it rather than keeping it in a private journal is in hopes of someone who may be going through a similar situation to know they aren’t alone. I also believe I am a living testimony to God’s healing power, and I want to share my story of healing so He can get all the glory. Because this story is long, I’ve split it up into multiple blog posts. Be sure to start from the beginning.
To read Part I, click here.
ER Trip #2
When my pain began to increase so much that I could barely walk, I told Travis to start calling friends to find someone to come be with the girls. I knew I had to go to the ER. Something was not right. We called a couple from our church who gladly came right away to stay with our girls all night long. Having them available was such a relief. We left for the ER, and I was in so much pain that Travis even ran a red light to get there faster.
My pain was much worse than it had been before my appendectomy. I rated it a 9. I wanted pain medicine, and they told me morphine was my best option. I’ve had a bad experience with morphine during my miscarriage, so I didn’t want it. However, I was in so much pain and they wouldn’t offer anything else that I told them to try it. But as they were putting it in my IV, my blood pressure dropped and they had to stop. They gave me Percocet but it didn’t do much. They did a CT scan, and we found out I had an infection in my abdomen. The explanation we were given is that my appendix had been so infected and so gangrenous that stool had seeped out of it into my abdomen.
The next day, Jan. 21, I was still in so much pain. The IR team put a drain in. The nurse told us she had never seen so much puss come out of a drain so fast, so no wonder I was in pain. They immediately emptied 200 ml from the drain bag. As soon as I was back in my room, they emptied another 200 ml. I don’t remember this day at all. Throughout this story, there are several days that I have no memory of due to the sedation and medications I was on. But Travis was there by my side through it all, so he has shared the stories with me.
I also want to mention that our daughters were taken care of this whole time. The couple from church had watched them all night until my mom arrived. She kept them until she needed to head back to work, so she met up with Travis’ mom in Indianapolis so she could take them back to Hartford City. No one knew just how long we would end up being in the hospital. Travis’ youngest sister and her husband offered to watch the girls. Our girls have spent countless nights at their house while we were up there preparing things for the cafe we opened. It’s a place they are familiar with. They also have three cousins close in age there, so they had a great time and we didn’t need to worry about them. Again, this was another huge relief to know our girls were safe and loved and happy.
When Things Went Downhill
On Wednesday, Jan. 22, my surgeon checked on me and told us I had a long way to go. He said to expect to be in the hospital for a few days. At that point my pain had moved to my lower chest and I was having trouble breathing. The surgeon said the pain was from the gas they had to put in me when they put my drain in. Three hours later, the IR team that put the drain in came to check on me. When I told them about my chest pain and trouble breathing, as well as what the surgeon told us, they said they don’t use gas to put a drain in. They were very concerned and ordered a chest x-ray right away. My oxygen levels were 93 when they checked. A normal oxygen level is around 99. They put me on oxygen.
Two hours later, we still hadn’t heard anything about my chest x-ray. Travis called the charge nurse to ask for the results, but she said she wasn’t available and would send someone in. The nurse who came told us that no one had said anything about my chest x-ray so it must have been normal.
It was at 1:30 p.m. when the PA came in and told us there was fluid on my lungs. She said they would slow down the fluids they had been giving me through my IV and start me on Lasix, a medication that helps relieve fluid. I was given a breathing treatment too. At one point, I got up to go to the bathroom and when I got back in my bed my heart rate was 140 and my oxygen was at 82.
Welcome to the ICU
Two hours later, a pulmonologist told us he would be moving me to the ICU, explaining that it was the best move for me. He was our favorite doctor of the four I ended up having during my stay. I was put on a bi-pap machine because my respiratory rate was between 30-40 when it should be 12. My blood pressure was also very low, so they put me on medication for it. At this point, Travis asked our nurse what the process is to get another surgeon, but the nurse told him there were no other surgeons. The pulmonologist told us that with my respiratory rate, my heart would give out within 12-24 hours.
It was some time between 6-9 p.m. that night that they intubated me, put me on a ventilator, and put in a central line on my neck. I was septic — sepsis is a widespread infection that causes organ failure and dangerously low blood pressure.
Travis said he had left my room and I had been awake and talking like normal, and when he got back I was sedated and unable to talk if I wanted to. But God was watching out for him. As scary and lonely as that moment was, it was also right when a friend from our church showed up at the hospital. News had spread fast since it was a Wednesday and most of our friends were at church. This guy just happened to be near the hospital that night and was able to stop by and bring Travis dinner and talk to him. That night, my mom and Travis’ aunt arrived at the hospital.
It was the next day, Thursday, Jan. 23 that things got worse for me. But it was also the day we experienced God in a way we never have before.