Valentine's Day has always been a day of reflection for me. Today is the 5 year anniversary of the day that I almost died.
It all started in February. I hadn't been feeling very well, just due to weather changes and allergies. I had a cold, and when I get a cold or any other type of sickness I get so run down - abnormally run down and weak. This time was no different, I was so weak and tired so I just had been laying down all day. Well, as the day progressed, I progressively started getting weaker, which was a little out of the ordinary even for me. By mid afternoon I was starting to loose my balance when trying to walk around the house, my legs were giving out, and I was even starting to slur my speech. I was laying down on the couch and I couldn't even pull myself to a sitting position at all because my arms were slowly giving out as well. When my parents were able to help me sit up, I fell back cause I wasn't even able to hold myself in a sitting position. My parents started talking about taking me to the hospital, but since I'm stubborn, I thought it would all pass and didn't want to go, so went to one of those free standing ER's instead. When I got there, the nurses could see that I wasn't able to walk too well without holding on to the walls so they took me into one of the rooms and said that I was just dehydrated and that I'd be fine after they ran an IV for a while. After about an hour or so when the IV ran out, they said that I would be able to go home and I should be fine. In my head I just had this weird feeling that I wasn't going to be able to walk, my legs just felt weird, but I told myself I would just try as hard as I could so that I could just go home. Well, I got up, very slowly, and ventured out into the hallway, not surprising at all to me, I still couldn't walk. It had gotten worse and I felt like the whole room was spinning and that I didn't know what was going on. I fell into the wall, and the Doctor noticed, he told my family and I to stop and go back in the room because I was not okay and he couldn't send me home in the condition that I was. Back in the room, he ordered a CT scan and started throwing out things like "stroke", or "brain tumor". The ER called an actual hospital because I was told that I needed to be transported right away by ambulance, so they got a room opened up and waiting for me. By time the ambulance arrived, my speech was so bad that I could barely talk coherently, and I felt like all my motor skills had completely left me. They got me on the gurney and into the ambulance and the next thing I knew I was at the hospital. It was already late at this time, so they basically hooked me up to get my vitals going; my blood pressure and pulse were very low. Whatever ability that I had to walk, talk, or move my arms were completely gone by this point. I felt nothing. My head was spinning and foggy, I didn't know what anyone was saying to me; I was so overwhelmed. By morning time, the first thing the Doctor told me was that I needed to be moved to the ICU floor because they were about 95% sure that I would have to be put on a breathing tube because my paralysis would spread, making it so that I wouldn't be able to breathe on my own. They had early diagnosed me with Guillain-Barre which is your body's immune system attacking your nerves; it's an ascending paralysis beginning in the hands and feet and eventually can move on to paralyze the whole body. The doctors said that it could be life threatening and told my parents that the first night is the most critical to see if I would even make it through. So, great, I just had all these positives up for me at once... not. I was told that I may not walk again, or that if I did, it could take up to 2 years for me to be able to walk, and if I did that I might always have a visible limp. It didn't seem real to me that all this was happening, because just a week before, I had been perfectly fine, walking around, doing what I wanted. No one prepares for a day when they're told they might not ever walk again. I was scheduled for every possible test that could be thought of. I made it through the night (obviously), but I was not doing good at all. One of my mom's friends came to see me and later told my mom that I looked way worse than she thought I would. I couldn't move my neck at all by this point and it took my minutes before I could process what anyone was telling me and my speech was so slurred still it sounded like I was a special kind of drunk. My fingers didn't even move at this point. I had a full body MRI, which, MRI's in general aren't fun, but when you're paralyzed in a tiny tube, it sucks. Especially when it's for your whole body. It took maybe 2 and 1/2 hours in total of me just laying there with this helmet thing over my head, wondering what was going on or when it would stop. Back in my room, meals were very hard, it's humbling when you have to have your family and friends feed you. I think the ICU staff was getting annoyed with how many people I had in and out of my room. Ha. My grandparents and flew in the next day from Wisconsin (I live in TX) and my Aunt and Uncle drove in from another city. My condition wasn't really getting better, but since I hadn't had to be put on a breathing tube yet, the doctors were looking into what else my condition could be. Then, on February 14th, 2009, I was in the room talking to my mom and dad when all of a sudden (what I was told later) I just stopped, mid conversation, and apparently started gasping for air and then I just stopped and went completely unconscious. My machines started going crazy and nurses started running into my room telling my parents to leave right away and yelling and paging doctors into the room STAT, and also yelling at me to "stay with them" they started doing CPR on me gave me a shot of something till I was stable again. I found out later that my heart rate dropped to less than 5 bpm and that my blood pressure went down to something like 52/50. Crazy. Every night that I was in the hospital I remember looking at my legs telling them to "move" and nothing would happen. I would try so hard to get even my finger to move and didn't have any luck. About two days after my flat line, I was barely starting to move my fingers and believe me, it was the absolute best feeling ever. I had Physical and Occupational therapy in the hospital, and with the very little progress that I was making, I was hopeful. I was released to leave, but had to follow up asap with a Neurologist. I didn't feel right at home of course because I still wasn't able to move or walk. I had to get a wheelchair and also a walker. I had many specialist appointments, physical therapy, occupational therapy, and balance therapy. The whole ordeal took me a whole year and then some to recover, and even now I still get some episodes from that, but I'M WALKING, I'm feeding myself, and I'm brushing my own hair! They told me that I may not be able to walk again, but I guess that wasn't in the plans for me. I take it for granted way too much, I know, but I just wanted to take some time out to say that I truly am thankful for being able to walk and do the "little things". 5 years seems pretty far away, but so very close at the same time.
I hope you've all been having a lovely Valentine's Day!
Love & Light.
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