I lived to tell about it.....Part 3

Fast forward a year and a half from the MRSA hospitalization and I appear to be healthy, but this isn't true.

Yes, I am healthy on the outside and have been fortunate to not have many complications.  But I am affected emotionally.  I have never been through anything that has affected me emotionally like this illness.  Don't get me wrong, I was very emotional during the births of both my kids but this is different.

Here is why I am so effected by this disease.

1.  I will always be a positive carrier of the bacteria.  Anytime I visit a new doctor I have to disclose I am MRSA positive. I feel as if I'm carrying a disease and it was my fault that I contracted it.  I know this isn't true, but that is how I feel.
2. We would like to have more children. Now we are having second thoughts.  Jason and I always thought we would have three or four kids.  We are very blessed with two healthy kids - a girl and a boy.  I don't want to face those complications again.  The extra precautions that will have to be taken in the delivery room, not only for me but also for the nurses and doctors, to ensure the MRSA isn't spread to anyone else is lengthy.
3. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't cry.  I know a flare up is less than likely to occur, but it could really happen anytime. Not only am I scared to have the bacteria become present again, but I am also scared it will take over my body again.  I want to be around as long as I can for my family. I don't like the thought that if God decides it is my time to go then Jason will be alone raising the kids.  And I cry because my dreams of having more kids was taken away from me.
4. I am sick more frequently.  Before I was diagnosed with MRSA, I got sick once every three or four years.  I hadn't seen a doctor for an illness in nearly eight years.  Because MRSA weakened my immune system, I have been to the doctor four times in one year for medication to treat other bacterial infections.   

I have learned a lot from the MRSA incident, too.

1. Life is precious. Each day my kids and I drive by a billboard on the highway that says "Defend life because life is precious." This couldn't be more than true. I really felt the full meaning of these words when I was in the hospital getting treated.  Although I have always given my kids and husband a hug and kiss everyday, I squeeze them a little harder and say "I love you" every chance I get.  
2. I pray a different way.  It is amazing how a person or a life changing event changes the way you pray.  I thank God daily for life, my daily blessings, keeping me safe, keeping me healthy and having faith.  When I pray, the first thing I do is thank God.  The second prayer I ask God to continue to keep my family and I safe, healthy and continue our faith.  The power of prayer is too large to measure.
3. Doctors make mistakes.  Doctors are humans and make mistakes like we all do.  Some mistakes are bigger than others. In my case, the mistake was nearly deadly.  If only the doctors would have scrubbed in a little longer or the instruments sterilized a little better, my abdomen scrubbed longer, I wouldn't have received MRSA in the delivery room. But there isn't anything that can be changed now.  The mistake was made, and we all have to make the best of it.  No one is perfect.  The fact is, this could have happened to anyone. 
4. Stop and smell the roses.  Before receiving MRSA, I was a workaholic.  Now, I live for daily family time and time with my kids.  The best part of my day is waking up my kids and giving them hugs and kisses every morning AND getting home from work and getting to spend the rest of my day with my family.  No one can take away the precious time I get to spend with my family each and every day. Without this experience, I would probably still be a workaholic and I have now learned to 'stop and smell the roses'.
5. God carried me.   I will never forget the day I heard 'you may only see one set of footprints in the sand because I am carrying you'.  That was the day I knew I was going to live.  Now I know God will always carry me and watch over me and my family when we are down.  

This illness has been a roller coaster ride and I know the ride is not over.  I wouldn't change this journey God has given me for anything.

I lived to tell about it....Part 2

After attending church on Sunday and hearing God speak to me, I knew it wasn't my time to go, and the next week was proof I was going to be OK.

                                   

I sailed through Sunday as if I was feeling the best I had ever felt when really I just wanted to die. I spoke to my mom that evening and told her I thought I was feeling better, but I needed her help, again.  I was too weak to do anything.
Mom showed up Tuesday morning to help me with EVERYTHING.  I didn't get out of bed or off the couch except to use the bathroom.  She even brought me Liam to nurse.  I couldn't take care of myself let alone the kids at that point. Relief was coming, but when?

I made another call to the doctor.  They had to find medicine, soon, that would work.  And Wednesday afternoon was my appointment.  My incision was oozing more than ever, and it was red and hard, too.  Dr. Hutchens, who I was now seeing, asked it I would be OK to have a CT scan.  The caviot was I couldn't nurse Liam for 24 hours after because of the die.  YES, YES, YES!!!! Although I support nursing 100%, I was ready for answers.  I was sent immediately for a CT scan.

It took me 45 minute to drive home from the hospital, I no sooner walked into the house, and the doctor called.  She said I had an internal infection between my organs, and now that they know I have an internal infection, they can better treat with antibiotics.  I went to bed that night with a sense of relief.

I was awoken to my phone ringing at 6:00 am the next morning. It was my OBGYN.  She said she as going to admit me into the hospital, and I needed to get there as soon as possible.   This must be more serious than she thought!  I was October 3 and I was supposed to be celebrating my fourth wedding anniversary.  Happy Anniversary to me!!! What a better way to spend your wedding anniversary than in the hospital.

Mom and I loaded up the car and got Liam ready.  He was going to be in the hospital with me. I wanted to continue nursing and caring for him. Another bump in the road hit as I was on the way to the hospital. I got a flat tire, and had Jason come change it for me.  Where was roadside assistance or the police when you need them?

Once I arrived at the hospital, they took my vital signs and my heartrate was 40.  Within minutes they were rushing me off for surgery. In surgery, they removed as much of the infection as they could and inserted a drainage tube to remove the remainder of the infection.  They sent a small portion of the infection for testing to determine the exact type of infection I had.

Not only did I see my OBGYN in the hospital, but  I also saw the infectious disease doctor, wound care doctor, and the interventional radiologist.  Although no one knew they type of infection, they did insert an IV and had several antibiotics going at the same time.  It was amazing how much better I felt right after they removed a large portion of the infection.

My heart rate continued to remain low even after surgery.  The nurses would laugh when they took my vitals and asked if I was a marathon runner.  I laughed back and said I hadn't run in a couple of years.  What did that dangerously low heart rate mean?  The bacteria was taking over my organs and slowly shutting everything down.  My body was in septic shock.  Since my health was deteriorating so quickly, I only had about 48 hours to live.

Two days after surgery the culture results came and back showed I had methicillin-resistent Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA).  It is a gram positive bacteria and a strain of staph that's resistant to antibiotics used to treat ordinary staph infections.  Knowing this, the doctors had to change their plan of attack and start a completely different antiobiotic: vacomycin.

At this point I have lost track of the antibiotics I have taken to treat this infection, but now I know I would be taking a very high dose of vacomycin through a PIC line for the next two weeks.  Because of the concentration and administration through a PIC line, the vacomycin was mixed in a lab and in a time release ball.  I had to be hooked up for one hour twice a day for two weeks. The great news is that I was able to do everything from the comfort of my own home with a little bit of training.

I was discharged from the hospital on Tuesday evening although my heart rate was still low.

Fast forward two weeks and all my vital signs were back to normal, I was feeling like a human being again and I had the energy to care for my family.

I can't say everything is fine today.....

In the next part of this blog series I will talk about my health over the last year and a half.

I lived to tell about it.....Part 1

Hallelujah! He is risen.

Many of us were fortunate enough to celebrate Easter with our families and the meaning behind Easter - the celebration of Jesus rising from the dead.  It was a day to reflect what Jesus did for us and how he has saved us.

How fitting for me to write about Jesus saving me.

In January 2011 nearly 11 months after our daughter, Olivia, was born Jason and I found out we were expecting baby #2.  We were excited, scared and nervous.  We just felt comfortable being parents after nearly a year, and in September we will have an 18 month old and a newborn.  We knew we could do this.

My pregnancy was great other than feeling a little tired from chasing a toddler.  My blood pressure was normal, my glucose test can back in normal range, my feet weren't swelling and I was gaining a "normal" amount of weight - more than I wanted but who really wants to gain weight? -

My first pregnancy ended in a cesarean section, but my doctor and I discussed about having a vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC) and since there weren't any complications with my first pregnancy and delivery there wasn't any reason to schedule a c-section.  So we planned to have a VBAC with baby #2.

On September 10 my water broke about 9:30 pm, and I started having contractions.  Because my contractions stopped in the middle of the night and I couldn't feel the baby move any longer, we headed into the hospital.

We arrived to the hospital about 5:30 am and checked in.  I was having contractions, but they were minimal.  I walked to bring on the contractions and help the labor for what seemed like days.  Around 3:00 in the afternoon I was only dilated to five centimeters, but I was making progress.  While in labor, I learned that one of my friends had come into the hospital and had her baby on the 9th.  Her delivery ended in major complications and scary situations (you can read about it here), but praise be to God everything ended well, and she and her son are doing well today.  Ironically, we shared the same doctor and when the doctor came to check on me, she mentioned how she was still shaken up from my friends delivery.

Around 7:00 that evening, the doctor came in to check on me, and I hadn't dilated anymore.  It was at that point that she thought it was best to move forward with a c-section since it was nearing 24 hours since my water broke.  I agreed.

Everything went well in the operating room, so we thought, and Liam Colton was born at 8:29 pm on September 11. He was perfect!  Our family of three became a family of four.

After delivery, I had some sharp pains in abdomen.  I was having pain from the c-section, but I didn't remember this kind of pain after my first c-section.  I mentioned this pain to the nurse, and she said it was just the anesthesia wearing off and pain from the c-section. Every delivery and c-section is different which will bring different pains, too.

Three days later, on September 14, I was released from the hospital. Liam was doing well and with the exception of a little pain, I was getting along well, too. We endured the rest of the weekend with a newborn, toddler and me still recovering from the c-section.

On Tuesday, September 17 everything changed.  I woke up running a slight fever, had the chills and just didn't feel right.  I called the doctor, and they asked me to visit their office to give me an assessment.  There was a virus going around at that time,and the doctor thought I had a touch of the virus since everything else seemed fine.  She told me if I wasn't feeling better by Friday to call back.

Friday came and I was still running a fever.  Another visit to the doctor where they didn't find anything wrong. I was sent home, again.

Tuesday, September 24 came and still I was running a fever.  I made another call to the doctor's office. My doctor was on vacation so I saw another doctor in the practice.  She examined me and thought maybe I had a uterus infection, and I was put on antibiotics. I was hesitant to take them since I was nursing but knew it was best for my family and me.

Each day came and went.   I was running a fever, had the chills and no energy.  My mom came to stay with us the second week we were home, but we thought she should go back home since I was just fighting an infection.  Each day she would call and check up on me.  Each time I would tell her I was feeling better.  I was hiding how terrible I was feeling.  I was hoping the antibiotics would start working soon so I could feel "normal" again although I had a baby two weeks prior.

Friday, September 27 came and I still had a fever, chills, aches, and now the pain in my stomach was getting even worse.  Every time I would try and sit up from laying down it felt like someone was stabbing me.  Could they have left something inside me from the c-section?  I was beginning to wonder.  Again, I made a call to the OBGYN's office.  At this point, I had puss oozing from my incision site, and it was red, hard and swollen.  She called in another antibiotic for me.  Sigh! Round two of antibiotics.

On Sunday, September 29, my family and I went to church.  Although I wasn't feeling fell, I always pushed myself to play with the kids, clean the house, do laundry and other housework.  I was really hoping my lack of energy was from taking care of a newborn.

My prayers in church took on a whole new meaning that day.  I knelt down, thanked God as I always do and had a great conversation with Him. "I'm ready, God.  I understand if this is my time to leave Earth, but please let me say goodbye to my family. Please keep my family safe and take care of them.  I feel terrible and need you to carry me."  It was then that I heard the Footprints poem.

I knew it wasn't my time to go and God was carrying me.  He was going to help me.

Part 2 will talk about the next week of being sick and ending up in the hospital with a short time to live.