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Hi There, I'm Kris. I'm a quirky sort who loves silly jokes, sunflowers, music, divine interruptions and music. I am devoted to my nerdly, ginger-haired husband, our 3 living & growing kids, and missing our 1 Babe in Heaven. We journey together through this life, dancing to our own beat, while learning each step as my children and I are effected by a life-threatening & degenerative chronic illness called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS). Please look on the "What is Ehlers Danlos Syndrome" to the bottom right of the page to learn more about EDS. I believe I have been given this journey in order to over come it, and this is my story of how I get it done.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

All by myself.

March has clearly gotten away from me.
LIFE has gotten away from me, such as it does I suppose.
Much has happened over the last month and some days since my last post; much accomplished & much not.  I had an OT/PT evaluation that was extremely educational & beneficial to me- it deserves it's own post (which I'm working on), so you'll know all about it then.  Cardiology gave me a full work up including a resting echo cardiogram, a stress test echo cardiogram, blood & a 6 day heart monitor test.  Everything came back great except that my blood pressure is too low (which we knew) & I have arrythmia stemming from both the supraventricular & ventricular areas of the heart (not at the same time, thankfully).  We've decided to put a pin all of that until May & decide then if meds are needed.  On the GI front, I've had a complete abdominal/pelvic CT scan after the results of my small bowel series revealed something abnormal-ish - a blip really - at the very end of my small intestine.  The same blip in the CT scan resulted in my first colonoscopy last Friday (whatever pride I had left after giving birth in my car almost 8 years ago is now gone forever).  During that test, the area where the blip was, looked fine (go figure!), though there was a growth found elsewhere that was almost completely removed.  I woke up feeling a horrible stabbing pain in my lower abdomen, when the Dr. walked in he said "Hey! That's where I took the mass from!" as if that were a coincidence. The Dr. then said "I think I got it all...but I'm not sure."  hmm... "It was at an odd angle, so it was difficult to see and get it all."  Well, what is it?  "I don't know, we'll have pathology look at it and you'll know in 3 weeks."  Is it a polyp?  "I suppose it could be, but it doesn't look like one."  Is it a cyst?  "No." I didn't ask what I really wanted to ask, because I figured he didn't know, since he didn't start out with 'You have cancer.' Another test, less knowledge.  This is getting frustrating.
I feel brushed off.
The nursing staff kicked me out before I was ready (in my opinion).  I couldn't even stand up without holding on to someone for dear life, let alone walk out to the car.  My Dad took was the one who took me, since my husband was working, but mostly because he faints at the sight (or even sound) of anything medical (he did not choose his wife wisely).  My Dad wanted to stop by his house and make sure his dog was ok (3 hours after leaving her with plenty of water & food in the nicely air conditioned house on an 80 degree day).  I begged him to just take me home; I felt nauseas and sleepy and I wanted my bed.  I fell asleep in the truck and the next thing I know, I had been left in an empty & hot truck.  I felt hot, and even more sick to my stomach, the world spun and I felt like I didn't have any air.  I slunk down to the floor of the massive Dodge Ram truck and opened the door where upon I fell out onto the hot cement.  Things went dark and then light again, then dark, always spinning, feeling horrible.  I couldn't lift my head.  What the hell was happening & where was my Dad??????  He finally showed up and asked what I was doing (and he actually sounded a bit annoyed!???!).  He got into the truck on his side and turned it one while I tried to climb my way back in.  I clumsily moved the vents so that the cool air could blast onto my face.  I found an unopened water bottle in the cup holder, stole it, drank it down and immediately got sick (in my Dad's empty coffee mug- ha!).  My Dad said nothing.  He asked me if I wanted to go out to eat (if you're imagining a cartoon with eye balls bigger than my head- you're be pretty much on target as to what I wanted to look like at that moment).  I said no.  Then he said, 'Well whenever I have a colonoscopy, I'm starving afterward and I go out to eat."  I don't feel hungry, I feel sick & sleepy and I want my bed (gee....I think I said that before....)  "Well," he said, annoyed again "I'm going to the drive through and will get myself something to eat."  He went to McDonalds.  I tried to go back to sleep to ignore the smells.  I was so happy to finally have gotten home when we finally did.  My husband & kids got home a while later and I tried some broth, but mostly I just slept.  6 hours later, it started.  I was so sick.  I couldn't stop vomiting.  I vomited for 2 hours straight.  I cried to my husband for help, but he couldn't wake up (he's been experiencing anxiety for the first time in his life, and some Doc-in-the-Box gave him Xanax). I literally couldn't stop, my muscles through out my entire body kept contracting and contracting, not even stopping to rest.  Then I started to shake violently and I really got scared.  I didn't know if I should call 9-1-1 or what!  I called my Dad, It took forever to say what was happening because my muscles were just constant, he finally understood and told me he'd be right over.  30 minutes later he was there, and the first thing he said to me once my husband helped me out of the house and back into that damned massive truck (!) was "Why didn't you just call 9-1-1?!" ~whimper~  Once at the hospital, things moved pretty quickly.  I was apparently in shock and they hooked me up to all kinds of things.  I kept seeing my Dad ask each professional if they could either admit me or discharge me since he had a plane to catch in a couple of hours.  "I have travel insurance on this trip, but I'd like to go on it if possible." he said with his condescending smirk.   I was discharged after drugged & hydrated & we got home around 4am, he left on his flight at 6.
It's taken me these few days to recover from the ordeal.  I don't know if it was because I couldn't eat for 2 days before the procedure and then got so sick, or just recovering by itself, but I still have no appetite at all.  I'm forcing myself to eat what I can, but I get so nauseas; and the meds the Dr. gave me at the hospital give me a horrible headache, so those don't really help me to eat. I feel so tired and sick all of the time.  I have to work though, sick or not.  My husband does not have a stable job since he lost his teaching contract in June 2010 so I'm it.  The bread winner (thought I don't feel like a winner- far from it).  Aside from feeling so ill, I'm having a hard time digesting how I feel by my Dad & my husband.  You'd think that a married woman who lives 20 minutes from her Dad & Stepmom (who was traveling at the time- they are retired & travel a lot) would have someone to help her when she can't help herself.  Apparently, I don't. I left my friends in California when I moved.  I'm all alone. This is a stark reality and it scares me.