1. These are how I remember things. I'm sure there is more to all of this but I either don't remember or remember it wrong.
2. This part may get a little graphic. There was nothing nice or easy about what I went through.
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My complications began almost immediately after they rolled me out of the operating room. My blood pressure was sky high and I was bleeding. Now I know all women bleed after giving birth, but I was literally starting to hemorrhage. The two nurses began what I remember being called a uterine massage. This consisted of them mashing the living daylights out of my stomach trying to get any clots inside me to release. This was some of the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life. They were giving me pain medication every 15-20 minutes to try and control it. It didn't even take the edge off. I lost all track of time, but I believe they were working on me in the recovery room around 30 minutes to an hour. I was alone in the recovery room short of the nurses there with me. Aaron had gone to the NICU with the girls. I hadn't even really had a chance to love on the girls at this point other than the glimpses I got in the OR. The nurses told me that they would wheel my stretcher through the NICU if I wanted on our way back to my room. By the time that moment came, I felt so horribly that I told them to just take me back to my room. I felt like the worst mother ever, but I wanted to enjoy my first moments with them and knew at that time there was no way I'd even remotely enjoy seeing them.
I was relieved to finally be back in my room. My mom and dad were waiting in the hall for me and I was so happy to see them. I didn't realize how short that relief would be. They moved me from my stretcher to my bed and checked to see if the bleeding had gotten any better. It had not. They once again started the "massage". At one time, I had two nurses pushing on my stomach (which, remember, I'd just had major abdominal surgery and my tubes tied), one at my head trying to keep me calm, one on each leg holding them back, and one running back and forth to the med room grabbing pain medication and other things the nurses asked for. I was screaming in pain and begging for them to give me a little bit of a break. I asked one of the nurses to go get Aaron out of the NICU so we could fill him in on what was going on with me and quite selfishly I wanted him there with me for a bit. I found out about that time that my mom had almost passed out in the hallway from hearing me scream. They had no idea what was going on in my room. My dad thought that maybe they were starting a new IV and how I wish that had been true. I sent Aaron to get my mom so that she could see that I was alright. She and I shared a few tear filled minutes before they had to start working on me again. I think I remember hearing the fact that I hadn't dilated any was complicating the whole clot removal process. I remember at one time one of the nurses having her whole hand inside me trying to remove clots. I don't know, nor do I want to know, how many clots they removed. I do know one of the biggest they removed was the size of a saucer. I maxed out on the demerol they were giving me every twenty minutes. I believe they worked on me in my room for another hour to two hours again. The nurse at my head told me that they were starting to discuss a D&C. If we had gotten to that point, which we were literally minutes away from making, I would've turned it down and instead demanded a hysterectomy.
Finally they had my bleeding under control. The cause was from my uterus being over distended from having twins. From what I understand, this is a pretty common complication with multiples. Every nurse that came into check my bleeding from that point forward was pretty much threatened when she went to touch my stomach. I can't even begin to tell you the pain I was in.
Little did I know that the worst was not behind me.
That night (yes we're still on Friday, September 23rd), I started having a very difficult time breathing. I described it later as what I thought was one of the worst asthma attacks I'd ever had. My night nurse brought me my inhaler and eventually called in respiratory therapy to do breathing treatments with me. I told them that I still felt really tight even after the treatments. One of the therapists told me that I still sounded tight too. I believe that the reason it took so long for my breathing issues to get under control was because we all thought it was asthma. No one thought that my breathing issues was coming from fluid starting to build in my lungs.
Saturday was uneventful. I started trying to get out of bed. I was still having what felt like asthma and was still getting breathing treatments every 4 hours or so. Other than that and several visitors, it was like any other day I'd had in the hospital over the last week. Saturday marked the one week mark of my hospital stay. It was also the first time I finally got to hold and see my girls. It was one of the most exciting moments ever.
Sunday started like any other I'd had in the hospital. My nurse had me up and walking. I walked half-way to the NICU to see the girls. I actually got to give one of them a bottle. It was so nice to see a few more friends that day and Mom and Dad brought Michael to see me. We tried several times to explain to him why Mommy couldn't pick him up and had to remind him several times to be gentle with me because of the big "owie" on my tummy. I got to have a shower which was amazing since I hadn't been able to shower since Thursday night. Mom and Dad had teen Michael to the fair that afternoon and brought him to see me again to tell me all about what he'd done. At that point, my breathing was starting to go downhill fast. I believe this was around 5 or 6 that evening. They had said something about the possibility of pneumonia. I had been started on oxygen at this point. Right after Michael, Mom and Dad got to the hospital, transport came to get me to take me for a chest x-ray. (I found out later that my lungs showed up completely opaque on this x-ray.) I think I remember respiratory coming up and giving me a as needed breathing treatment since it wasn't time for one.
My breathing wasn't improving at all. If anything, it was getting worse. They tried to send me to get a CT scan, but I couldn't tolerate being off oxygen for that long. Right after we figured that out, they checked my oxygen saturation and it was down to something like 75. (100 is normal.) At that point, things started moving quickly. They called respiratory again to come get a blood gas read on me. I remember almost punching the lady in the face because I was so panicked and didn't want to be stuck if I couldn't lay down. (Yes I later apologized to her.) I think it was around 11 p.m. they moved me from antipartum to the ICU.
Once in ICU, they put me on a machine called a B-pap. It's a lot like the C-Pap that they give people with snoring issues or babies in the NICU with breathing problems. They recatheterized me and, finally, got that blood gas draw. They started the lasix at this time too. My heart rate at this time was in the 120s, my respirations were in the 60s, and we won't even talk about my blood pressure. I remember being able to get a little rest that night, however, they did continue to work on me all night.
Monday morning brought Dr. Atkinson to see me. He really worried my poor husband and mother. He recommended at that time that I be intibated and put on a respirator. I vaguely remember Dr. Bradley, my cardiologist, coming by and ordering an echocardiogram. I do remember having the echo done. I remember being told my heart wasn't working correctly and it would be best if I was put on a vent. I remember Steve Carter coming by during all this and praying with me. I don't know that he'll ever know how grateful I was and am for that. I remember telling Aaron that I absolutely did not want to wake up at all while I on the vent. My dad got to the hospital before that and I remember telling him the same thing. The next thing I knew, they were running my family out of the room, moving my bed, trying to get me sedated and a tube down my throat. I remember the pulminologist taking off the B-Pap mask and putting another mask on me. I panicked then because I felt like I couldn't breathe again. I bolted straight up and begged Dr. Atkinson for them to put me back on the B-Pap until I was out. He looked me in the eye and told me to relax. I remember telling myself to relax and give in to the sedation. I found out later they gave me enough Propofal (yes the stuff that killed Michael Jackson) to take down several grown men. This was around 11 Monday morning.
I have a few memories of being under. I remember being extremely thirsty and wanting a drink of sweet tea so badly it almost hurt. I remember trying to talk to Dr. Dorsett, my mom and Aaron. I remember the nurses talking over me. Thankfully, I don't remember a whole lot. I literally lost two days of my life.
The next thing I know, it's Wednesday afternoon and they were ready to remove the tube. Calvin, my favorite respiratory therapist, came in and pulled it out. It was then that I started finding out how sick I really was. I found out my diagnosis then was congestive heart failure. I woke up with a central line and was told that I was about to get two units of blood. (No I didn't look at the blood as it went in. I took great pains in not looking. The thought now still makes my stomach turn. However, I am grateful to whoever donated.) I was still one sick puppy. I remember begging to go to NICU but they wouldn't allow me because I was still too sick to go. I can't tell you how many of my nurses came to check on me. The nurses who tortured me after delivery came by and were almost in tears when they heard about all I'd gone through. Almost all the nurses that were on duty in antipartum at that time came by. I had no idea how many people I'd worried. To be honest, I'm still finding out 4 months later how worried people were.
Thursday morning they released me from ICU back to my antipartum room. I finally got to go see my girls. I finally felt like I was on the mend.
It was almost a week later before I ever got to leave Lakeside. Dr. Dorsett finally felt good about releasing me the following Tuesday. We were now in October and I'd been in the hospital for over two weeks. It felt surreal to walk into my house that night. It was nice to have all three of us back in the house, Michael, Aaron and I. Asia wasn't quite sure what to think of my being home after having been gone so long. I was so relieved to finally get to sleep in my own bed. I don't remember it being at all weird to come home without my babies. As horrible as it sounds, I was relieved. I was glad to have some time at home to rest and recuperate before they came home. I was quite aware of the ordeal I'd been through and knew rest was important.
I thought I was well on the way to recovery. I couldn't have been anymore wrong...
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