I was sent back home on January 11th after spending 8 hours in the emergency room. I still could not breathe. I could barely talk and breathe at the same time. I couldn't even stand. Yes, that's how unbelievably weak I was! My husband had to hold me up to shower me. I could not sleep. I didn't sleep for days because I could not sleep and breathe at the same time. My husband begged me to go back to the hospital. I refused. I mean, we all know our health care system in Canada can have it's pros and cons, and I honestly thought what was the point? I truly believed they would make me sit in the ER for another 8 hours and then send me back home saying I was fine. I had resigned myself to suffocate to death at home. I did not have much faith that the system would help me. Sad? Yes. Honest? Yes. Now don't get me wrong, we have a great many people that work in health care and do their best, but in this circumstance, at this moment, I felt my life was coming to an end and nobody would help me.
Finally, my husband asked me to call my oncologist. He said, "if you won't go in at least call your doctor and tell her what's going on." So I did. I did it only to appease him. When I called, my oncologist was extremely worried. She told me to go straight to the ER and she was calling down to let them know I was coming. I went. Did I have faith anything could be done? Honestly, no. This does not discount my faith in God. I knew He was with me, but I had very little faith in our health care system by this point. At least in the ER at the hospital. This time is was different though. I couldn't walk from the car to the emergency room doors. My dad wheeled me in, in a wheelchair. When the intake nurse put the oximeter on my finger he saw that my oxygen level had dropped into the low 80s. That's right. In just a couple days my oxygen saturation dropped 10%. They took me right in. They swept me away. Into a private room. Soon I was hooked up to oxygen, had a catheter, and an IV. What else did they do? I am not 100% sure. I was pretty out of it because I was so de-oxygenated.
Me with the oxygen mask in the ER. I transitioned to the airvo machine rather quickly
From here things moved pretty quick. They ran a lot of tests. The results were not good. I was still fighting covid. But that was not the only thing. I tested positive for fungal pneumonia, and I also had a spray of blood clots in my lungs. I was not entirely surprised by the blood clots. With the type of cancer I was fighting DVT's are more common. The morning I went back to the hospital I had a piercing pain in my left calf. Turns out - deep vein thrombosis that travelled to my lungs. WOW. That is A LOT of things attacking my lungs. And the kicker? Do you want to know what my biggest fear in life always was? Suffocating to death. Now, don't tell me this is a coincidence. That, I do not believe it was. I believe this was an attack from the enemy of God. But guess what? The Lord walked with me through it all. He held my hand. He filled me with the love of His Holy Spirit. He NEVER left me. And the result? I felt no fear. I knew how serious this was, but I felt no fear. In fact, I do not recall being afraid at all.
I spent two night in the ER while they waited for a bed in the ICU to be available; then I was transitioned to the ICU. And guess what? We still had covid rules to follow. Because I was still positive for covid no one was allowed into the room with me. My parents came and sat outside a glass window and talked to me through my cell phone. This was the only means of communication I had with my family. I was stuck in a bed in the ICU, hooked up to airvo, and IV's being induced with pain meds and who knows what else! And I was unable to have those who I loved with me. My comfort and joy. They were all kept at bay.
But God..
God provided. He kept me company. Gave me peace and provided me physical comfort in the way of my friend, Ashley.
A picture I took of Ashley massaging my feet in the ICU
This is Ashley. This is my childhood friend. Guess what she does for a living? She is a respiratory therapist in the ICU at the hospital I was admitted to. Coincidence? I think not. God providing me with exactly what I needed when I needed it? Yes, I know so. We have been friends since we were children. Eight to be exact (truth be told she is 8 months older than me!) You know the type of friend that you can pick up with as if no time has elapsed? Even if you haven't seen each other in months or years? Yes, that is Ashley. And there she was. The only one that could enter my room (other than staff). She worked there. She had privilege. She helped to keep my spirits up. She was the connection with my outside world. With the ones I loved and missed. She spent hours sitting with me. Talking with me. Laughing with me. She helped make this time bearable. She was an extension of love from God Almighty. He can use anyone you know. And for me, He used her. So thank you Ashley. Thirty four years of friendship, and I still have a great appreciation and love for her.
Two weeks in the ICU. Two weeks without seeing my children. Two weeks of feeling heartbroken from missing my family. But two week later, I was getting better. Still on oxygen, with a catheter and hooked up to IVs; but two weeks later, and they finally agreed to move me up to the hematology ward for recovery.
Add comment
Comments