Sunday was a pretty good day. Martin went to Manchester to play baseball, so Dylan spent Saturday night with his nanna and went to church with her on Sunday morning. Apparently, he was very popular there and was amazingly well behaved. He is welcome back any time, as I understand it.
Edith went to church with me, and I had lots of help with her. My chest was still really sore and I was doped up to the max so I could move, so she was held by friends unless I was feeding her.
After church, Edith and I went to the in-laws to meet up with Dylan, and we all drove to a village called Willingham to get ice cream. We came back to their house and had a barbecue. Martin was supposed to meet us there, but the games ran late so we bathed Dylan at the in-laws' house and got all of us bundled into the car for the drive home.
While I was driving us all home, I hot the most horrible shooting pain in my chest. It felt like someone was stabbing me and I honestly thought I was having a heart attack or something. I have never prayed so hard just to be able to make it home. We made it, obviously, and then I had to get both kids in the house and Dylan into bed. Interesting, but I made it. I had just sat down to feed Edith, the pain completely unbearable at this point, when Martin got home. He walked in the door, asked me if I was OK, then asked me if I wanted him to call an ambulance.
The ambulance crew drove me over to Hull Royal Infirmary, and Martin stayed with the kids until Christine could get here. He joined me at A & E, and the waiting game began. We got there at 9:00pm and Martin left at 1:30am when they decided they were going to admit me. We needed to make sure I didn't have a pulmonary embolism as a blood clot in the lungs is potentially fatal.
The hospital was interesting. Between a completely full ward and not actually getting a bed until 3am, another flare up of the pain that nobody did anything to help me with, trying to get a breast pump, etc. I got to sleep (sort of) at around 4am. The next morning it was an ultrasound on my legs and a CT scan to make sure there were no clots when the ultrasound was clear.
Martin brought the kids over on Monday morning because we thought I'd be going home them, but I didn't actually get discharged until about 7pm. He left Edith with me for the day, and she was very popular on the ward. I was able to feed her as needed that way, and Martin took Dylan into Hull for a boys' day. It worked out OK. Most of the hospital staff were happy to hold my beautiful baby while I had the necessary procedures. Martin took the babies home at dinner time because we still weren't sure what was going on, and he had to come back and get me 2 hours later.
So they ruled out pulmonary embolism, and still weren't sure what was causing the pain. They wanted me to stay another night for observation and pain medication purposes, but I just wanted to come home! They saw a little bit of infection in my chest on my CT scan so I think it might have been pleurisy. Either that or I HAD a clot that dissipated with the blood thinners they gave me when I was admitted. At any rate, I was still in pain last night but am feeling MUCH better today. I'm trying to keep the pain medication to a minimum for Edith's sake, but I'm taking it every 4 hours religiously!
So that was my big medical scare, and it was scary! You don't really think about having a baby as being potentially life threatening, but having a c-section puts you at high risk for blood clots. I could have died on Sunday, and that really makes you stop and think--and appreciate the little things. Like hugs from your children and the beauty of a perfect English summer day.
1 comment:
Love you, glad to here that you are feeling much better.
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