I'm a worrier, I was born that way. I come from a long line of worriers, I even gave birth to one myself. Our youngest son is in therapy to help with his ADD, after his second appointment his therapist comes out to us and says, "He has a lot of worries". Yeah, tell me about it. You can imagine, I'm sure, how I'm dealing with day to day issues. I take a lot of anxiety medicine.
Most nights I just lay awake and watch JD breathe. I did this before he got sick, but not for as long. I'd wait for his breathing to slow down and for him to start snoring. I'd thank God for another day we got to spend together and process everything else that happened in the day, all to the rhythm of his breathing. Then I could go to sleep. I am, of course, still thankful for everyday we get together and thank God often. However, the meaning behind watching him breathe has changed now. Instead of being thankful for him breathing, I'm thankful for each breath he gets to take. Our first night in the ICU was particularly awful. I felt like I was sitting there willing him to take his next breath, willing his heart to beat again. They were having problems getting his internal blood pressure monitor to work and the alarm would go off about every two minutes saying his blood pressure was too low. Three nurses were in there trying to figure out what was going on, he wasn't showing any symptoms of low blood pressure. There was one reading that was 72/50 and I lost it.
I've seen this blood pressure before on one of my father-in-law rounds in the hospital fighting cirrhosis and some random blood infection. He had come through lung cancer but his liver was failing. They had spoken with his wife and I about our wishes if they weren't able to bring him back, did we want to pursue a DNR? It took me right back to that spot, what decision would I make? What would he want, what was the right thing to do? We never got to that point. JD made it through that night, they got the monitor working and they got his blood pressure meds regulated so that it didn't go that low. Still it sticks with me, what if I have to make that choice?
What if, what if... My mother reads this blog and will probably tell me I can't live in the what if. I can't tell you how many nights my mom has spent up late with me discussing my what if's. It's genetics, mom, out of my control. I've actually worked pretty hard to not live in the what if's. Thousands of dollars of my mom's money spent on therapy later, I've developed some coping strategies, they're not working right now. So I take more anxiety medicine, it helps take the edge off. I can breathe, JD's breathing, the kids are breathing. We will make it through this day. One hour, one minute, one step, one moment, one breath at a time.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Jessica- My Dad found out in 1986 that his total cholesterol was 450 and his LDL was in the 300 range. He has never smoked or drank his whole life. Since then he's been taking at least 4 different drugs to get his cholesterol down to "normal". He has never had an MI from it, but he found out from his stress test and cath angiography that he's got diffuse atherosclerosis throughout his whole LAD, with 2-85% blockages in his LAD. The Dr told him if he did have an MI in his LAD he would be dead instantly. In 2005, he found out from an echocardiogram that his aortic valve had calicified and wasn't closing properly. He was 70 then, so he had bypass surgery on his LAD and his aortic valve replaced with a swine valve. The surgeon told us that when he got to his aortic valve and touched it, it crumbled. So he had to take it out in pieces. He said he wouldn't have lasted another 6 months with his valve being that bad. He spent 3 days in CCU, and 4 more in a regular room. Seeing him in CCU was horrible. He looked bad and was on a ventilator because of the neuromuscular blocker he had in surgery, paralyzed his diagphram so he couldn't breath on his own until that wore off. At that time I had just filed for divorce and I had to deal with that and see my Dad go through all of that. It was a very tough time. He went through cardiac rehab and is now almost 76 and doing fine. He now volunteers in the cardiac rehab unit at St. Francis. If he had not taken those meds for years and gone through that surgery he wouldn't be here today. That gave him many more years of quality time in his life, which I'm very thankful for. His high cholesterol is the hereditary kind. My brother, sister, and I have all got the same thing and we all take 3 different drugs to reduce it to "normal", in hopes that we can prevent ourselves from having to go through what my Dad did or your husband. I started taking meds for my cholesterol level(365) in 1987 when I was 24. I've had 3 stress tests and 2 echos which has shown no signs of any blockages yet. It's a lifelong battle, but is well worth it, and it gets easier with time. Every year the technology and drugs get better and better to deal with CAD. One of these days we may all be able to take a pill that will change the insides of our arteries to look just the same as when we were born. I hope to be the person to make that drug. J.D. the Pharmacist.
ReplyDeleteThanks, J.D. the pharmacist!
ReplyDeleteIt's always nice to hear other survival stories. That sounds very scary, I'm glad your dad made it through with flying colors! It is going to be a constant battle with that damn cholesterol.
I hope someday, J.D., to see your name as the inventor of that miracle drug. I look forward to it!
Remember if you need to talk, I am available any time. I may be groggy from sleep, but I will listen. You are indeed a worrier and probably always will be. I am so very thankful that you have JD at your side and you can see for yourself that he is alive and sleeping. The more you talk about this, the easier it will become and hopefully the fears will slowly lessen. I love you so much. Love, Mom
ReplyDelete