a mother's day gift

This may get a little long..

Tuesday was the first day I could shower after the C-Section and I was so excited!  I got in the shower and realized I was swollen up to my breasts {{yes, really, all the way up to my breasts}}.  I mentioned it to all the doctors and nurses that saw me but no one seemed too concerned.  I had also developed a little dry cough...no one seemed too concerned about that either!  By Wednesday I was so swollen I was having a hard time getting around again.  The doctors and nurses assured me my swelling was normal....afterall, I was so swollen before he was born and it was only going to get worse before it got better {{at least they were right about this part!}}.

We were supposed to be discharged on Thursday.  I was so excited to leave the hospital and get in a routine with our little blessing.  Early Thursday morning a new doctor came in, took one look at me, and informed me that I would not be going home that day.  She was very concerned about my swelling.  Later that day, the hospitalist came by and ordered albumin to try to pull some of the fluid out.  The night shift nurse started the albumin.  Later that night, I began feeling like someone was standing on my chest and I was having a hard time breathing.  The nurse came in and took my blood pressure and it was sky high!  She was a nervous wreck so I recommended calling the doctor.  Just as a side note, it is incredibly hard to be a nurse and be a patient at the same time.  The thing about being a nurse is that you may not have a lot of knowledge about all the different fields in nursing, but you have enough knowledge to question things and know when something is not right.  At this point, I knew something wasn't right.  I told hubs that I was pretty sure I was dying {{no, I am not dramatic....not at all}} and to please let me hold Hudson one last time.  The doctor ordered a CT scan.  That was all.  They left me like this, while still pumping me full of albumin, for the rest of the night.  The next morning, a new nurse came in and immediately said "We are going to get something done for you today.  I've already paged your doctor, the hospitalist, and the cardiologist."  Praise the Lord!!  Finally, someone was going to do something for me!!

Or so I thought....

Around lunch time, I was still in the same situation.  My doctor did come in and inform me that my lungs were full of fluid.  He had already ordered me to have lasix {a diuretic} and they had given it to me that morning.  The cardiologist came in and said give her more lasix.  The hospitalist came in and said I had pneumonia.  Three different opinions.  No one could agree on my plan of care.  Something wasn't working.

We requested to be transferred to a hospital in Charlotte.  My doctor agreed that it would probably be best.  So, Friday afternoon, my family packed all of our things to prepare for our transfer.  The hospital I was at told me that I could take Hudson but that someone would have to be awake 24 hours a day to take care of him {{really?!?  how was that going to happen?!?}}.  My family volunteered to take turns staying in the hospital to take care of little man.  That seemed so crazy to me so I suggested that they just take turns taking care of him.  Then, they could bring him to the hospital every day and take him home at night  {at this point, I was still breastfeeding so it seemed like the best option}}.  Later that day I was loaded into the ambulance and transferred to Presbyterian Hospital.  I arrived at the hospital by myself {{they wouldn't let anyone ride with me}} and immediately had a breakdown.  I was physically and emotionally drained.  I called hubs sobbing.  How could this be happening??  I just had a baby...this was supposed to be a happy time and instead I was just arriving at a new hospital to try to figure out what was going on with my body.

Hubs arrived shortly with the rest of our family.  The nurse informed me that Hudson could stay with us, I just couldn't be the main care giver {which, of course, brought on another mini breakdown}.  At this point {{I was later told}}, I was in kidney failure.  The first hospital had given me so much lasix that they had shut my kidneys down.  Not only had they given me so much lasix that it was affecting my kidneys, they also were not replacing all the things that were coming out of my body {potassium, magnesium, etc}....this was going to eventually start affecting my heart.  The were slowly killing my organs off.  Our entire family started calling everyone they knew and asking for prayers.

Over the next few days, the wonderful doctors and nurses started replacing everything I was missing, lowered my dosage of lasix, and ran all kinds of tests.  The good news was besides a little fluid around my heart, there was no irreversible damage.  Slowly, my kidneys started functioning again.  By Sunday {{my first mother's day}}, I was being discharged.

It has been a slow recovery and I am still not 100%.  I still have fluid in my lungs and sometimes have difficulty breathing, but I am so much better than I was!!

Hubs {{and everyone else}} asked me what I thought Presbyterian did that made the difference {afterall, I was only there from Friday until Sunday}....I tell them prayer...I truly believe prayer made the difference.  People everywhere were praying for us.  God is in the business of healing.  What else is there to say??

I also believe God gave us the discernment to ask for a transfer....the transfer that {{according to the doctors at Presbyterian}} saved my life.