Finding Direction: The Wind Vane Chronicles

[Note:  Every word I write herein is true, so help me God - to Whom I've uttered many "help me God" prayers the past 8 days believe me.  The story is much too long to tell in one post as I write on Tom's laptop Saturday morning Sept. 30. 2006 in a fine hotel in Albuquerque, New Mexico, but I can begin.  So "listen up" to my sad incredible saga.]

I'll cut to the chase and fill in all the gory details later. 

After arriving some 4 hours past our scheduled 7 p.m. arrival time last Saturday night - long story in itself - in Albuquerque (an altitude of about 5000 ft. above sea level), we got up Sunday moring and spent the day driving up to Pagosa Springs, Colorado across the Continental Divide at 7380 ft. to our friend's rustic log cabin up a long dirt and gravel road in the mountains above Pagosa.  Snow covered the mountain peaks for as far as the eye could see and we passed deer grazing in yards along the way.   

I'd experienced light headedness most of the day, so we had a quick late dinner in the small town, drove back up the 3 mile road to the cabin and called it a night after lighting a big fire to keep the chilly night air at bay.  We could hear the mountain stream rumbling far below the back of the cabin.  The warm flannel sheets we'd bought to put on the bed felt wonderful.

I didn't sleep long because brutal waves of nausea set in, adding to the already unbearable lightness of being and now even more horrific headache.  I threw up all night and morning wasn't any better.  We called our friend, my endocrinologist and cardiologist who all said I'd acclimate in a few hours and be fine.  Meanwhile, my doctors said to keep taking all my medications and drink lots of liquids.  I couldn't even tolerate much water.  They said if need be, call a local doctor tomorrow.

The day passed in a lethargic sleeping haze.  I slept between bouts of nausea while Tom sat on the back deck for hours with binoculars watching a herd of about 20 elk graze along and in the swift cold stream below.  Hawks and a golden eagle soared above.  The sun was warm, the air was crisp; I was deathly sick.

We fell in bed and I longed for the morrow.

It was no better for me lethargy-wise or nausea-wise, but I tried to gather my low reserve of strength enough to pack for our trip over to Taos for the first day of our 2 day stay there at the recommended dream vacation adobe hotel with the beamed ceilings and kiva fireplace room on the grounds of the Taos Art Museum.  I couldn't do it, but slept instead.  After noon Tom called the only local clinic and was told they couldn't see me.  They recommended if we needed further help to drive 60 miles west to Durango to the nearest hospital ER.  Tom asked me what we should do.  I said, let's go now.  I felt awful.

By the time we arrived at the brand new (3 month old) Mercy Medical Center hospital ER it was 5 p.m. and Tom had to get a wheelchair to bring me in.  I could barely function. 

They worked me up "semi"-quickly (you know how hospitals are), but started me on oxygen while the doctor asked me lots of questions.  I was in the expansive cardiac ER room.  They drew blood and we waited.

The doctor came back in and said your electrolytes are a huge, and I do mean huge, mess.  She began rattling off readings, most of which meant nothing to me.  She said they were admitting me and went to set up a room.  They started an I. V. saline drip.  My blood sugars had been sky high for two and a half days now despite no food, so glucose was out.

They moved me to a cardiac unit and Tom left to go secure a motal room nearby for the night and to eat.  He wasn't coming back until morning because it was late and he needed rest, too. 

But I didn't stay there long because when the "hospitalist" (a new specialty) saw my blood work, he ordered me moved to a transitional care unit (TCU).  That decision only lasted a minute because the nurse now came running in saying they wanted me in ICU and quickly. 

It was now after 11 p.m., but I was feeling better with the oxygen and the nausea was amazingly gone.  So when we got the the ICU, I was fairly chipper.  My cheeriness only lasted as long as the trip upstairs in my bed because when the ICU (or Critical Care) doctor (another new specialty) came roaring in he was beside himself.

"You are in acute renal (kidney) failure," he threw out at me.  "You are rapidly dying, so tell me what is going on with you?"    

A state of shock is what I was really in, I decided within a split second.  "What?" I whispered.

He started out highly upset with me for not knowing all of my body chemistry backwards and forwards with respect to my kidneys.  He couldn't imagine how I could have such highly dysfunctional kidneys and not be able to communicate my condition coherently.  I kept trying to figure out what he wanted and how I had arrived in this strange place as he kept trying to figure out a huge puzzle in his mind about me and my body that made no sense to him whatsoever.

We both warily worked our way through my medical history and story and after about 45 minutes or so, as I gave him the last missing piece of the puzzle he'd so desperately been searching for, his eyes suddenly lit up in an "Aha" moment and he blurted out, "Finally!  Now it all makes perfect sense!"

That was the beginning of my 3 day stay in the Mercy Medical Center hospital ICU as I battled kidney failure and held death at bay.

More later, but that is enough for today. 

Oh yeah - I'm sitting here with oxygen running through a tube into my nose from my portable oxygen machine we're now traveling with as we drive home over the next 3 days.  My heart was not the main problem at all, but its right side is enlarged from the altitude sickness and stress and maybe more.  My pulmonary function is down considerably, but my kidneys are now working fine.  I feel good and we had our first lovely meal together at "the" travel book choice restaurant here in Albuquerque late last night.  I am, and have been, happy all week, even though very near death.  There is a lot to the story and you will want to hear it all, I'm sure.  Meanwhile, pray for me because I'd like to stay around a while to chronicle my story in full and share with you God's greatest blessings I've received this week.

Cheers, y'all!!  (We'll re-visit the "Ya'll/Y'all" question later).

Love you guys!  Dee

Trackback URI | Comments RSS