And so day two has mostly passed without major differences. But before i contemplate today, i wanted to make a mention of something i didn't yesterday and that it concerns the response i have recieved considering my hospitalization.
When Mom left somewhere between midnight and 1am on Saturday, she made sure to copy down the phone number to my room which is interesting to have in the first place. At home, phone calls can be for just about anyone under the roof, but any and all calls to RM 837 I know are for me specifically so i have no reason to wait for an answering machine to tell me who is calling (not that my room phone has an answering machine anyway...)
Anyway, as i was saying before, the response i've recieved since being admitted. First off, the first call was a suprise. I had been woken up at 5am, i've mentioned before because my door hadn't been closed and around that time a lot of chatter and noise erupted in the hall. Well, at 7am i was woken up by a nurse to get my vitals checked, and after she left i just kinda lay in bed a while and stared into the abyss, so maybe about 10 to 30 minutes i think (wasn't really paying attention to the clock, i was just wondering how often people were going to come and check my vitals and if it was truly that vital considering that from what i've seen after doing laps around the floor i may be the healthiest and youngest and most mobile person on this floor) suddenly the phone rings. I hesitated at first, thinking i should wait for an answering machine or something, then rationalized that anyone calling this phone is trying to reach me so i answered and, it was Heidi! Kinda suprising, but always a delight to hear from my floridian sister who is now engaged! (Congrats Heidi and Chad! I'll give you a discount if you want me as your wedding photographer ;) ) Thanks Heidi for calling to say you loved me and were thinking about me, and that you'd call back during your work break.
After a while, i ordered my first breakfast via the hospital meal delivery (they actually have quite a nice variety on the menu and all i gotta do is punch in the number code and tell them what i want from the menu and it's sent up to me in about 45 minutes, and for once the rumors of hospital food tasting nasty arn't quite true because i've been able to stomach everything i've ordered) In this case, i ordered two french toast wedges, two strips of bacon, and choco milk. Before the food came i recieved another phone call, this time from Pastor Steve Meck, which definitly suprised me. (suprised as in 'how does he know i'm in the hospital?' and 'just how many people did Mom tell about this?') But it was good to hear from him all the same and Pastor Meck promised that he would visit me later. So after saying goodbye and waiting a bit, the food was brought up, i ate, was happy, and a little while later someone knocked on my door. Of course i said "come in" and found the head of a Pannabecker poking in. Again i had to wonder just how many people knew about my present state of condition, but was happy for my first bodily visitor since admittance. Thanks Pastor David for visiting me and sharing with me your own wisdom as far as healing from neck surgery and other surgery. I know it's Lois who had the neck surgery, but you are married to her so you at least have an idea of what i'll be going through and your insight and advice I will definitly take to heart.
A while after Pannabecker left, Heidi, keeping her promise from earlier, called back during her break and we chatted a bit about the situation. Thanks Heidi for the support!
After Heidi's phone call, Dad came in to visit (and he brought with him some things from home, such as Adelli, my laptop. Just to make it clear, I name any piece of technology i tend to use a lot so that if it seems to be struggling i can encourage it by name. That includes the '98 Camry, my camera, my phone, and my laptop) Thanks also so much for bringing me the 4 doughnuts i bought from Martins yesterday. I had bought them with the intention of sharing with sister Beck (make her sound like a nun why don't I?) but I guess God had other plans for the destination of those doughnuts. (I ended up having one for lunch Saturday and the other 3 for breakfast this morning. MmmmMMM! Breakfast of champions!) Dad changed the day he was going to return to Oklahome City and his job until he knew what day i would be getting surgery, and thanks for that. It would probably cause you a large amount of worry wondering how i was doing from several states away, so you can at least know sooner what's going on. It was also a relief to know you were all right, consideirng how late it was you got home Friday night from taking Shawn, David, and Paul to the beach. (turns out that all was peaceful and Dad decided to stay and watch the sunset, which i agree to be a truly magical experience when viewed from the beach, but next time i'd suggest checking before hand when the sun sets in Michigan so you don't find yourself leaving Warren Dunes State park at 9:30, Dad. May i also suggest you borrow a cell phone or the car charger for your phone so someone can contact you, short of Mom or Beck calling the Michigan State police to make sure there had been no accidents...) in any case it was a relief to know you and the boys were safe. Thanks also for delivering the Saturday comics, the Close to Home comic strip was a hospital themed one and is now clipped out and pinned on the bulletin board on the wall in my room here. (i'll see if i can't post a picture of it to those who wonder what the strip was)
After Dad left, i prowled my room like a caged tiger because even though i'm most likely the most stable person on the 8th floor i'm not actually allowed to wander the hallways unless i have someone with me. (this is because everyone on the floor is a potential 'fall risk' which is identified by the yellow band which says this on my right arm as a warning to all. And i can understand. I mean, this tumor is the answer to the tension and locked muscles in my right leg which has hindered my balance for almost two years now, and I say two years because after thinking about it, i remembered how I had some trouble balancing back in a Modern Dance class I took my freshmen semester in the spring at IUSB. Practicing with one wall of the room full of mirrors I noted more than once that when I jumped and landed, I'd land hard on my right foot, ungracefully, and then much more gently on my left, which makes me wonder just how long this tumor has been growing in my cervical spine (that being vertebrea 1 through 12, I believe, from the base of the skull to the neck)!)
So anyway i started reading further into Red River (which is a manga series Beck has completed) and after finishing a volume I had a sudden thought; that after surgery i may not be able to really type on Adelli as I am right now, and considering that Adelli is a Dell Studio XPS 1640, has quite a few advanced features, one of which is voice recognition. Well aware some computers can be controlled completely by voice, i searched the programs and sure enough Adelli is equipped with a speech dictation program. So after spending an hour or two playing with the program and getting my comp to recognize my voice (and also to gain a real desire for a headset microphone so Adelli can hear me more easily and clearly as opposed to the microphone built into the laptop which picked up on other noises outside the room despite the door being shut.) I stopped, mostly because my voice was feeling raw and tired from enunciating and dictating so much. I ended up dictating half of my first blog entry, which was a true learning experience in itself on familiarizing myself with different commands and such.
After some time i got another visitor, actually two. The Mecks came to say hi! Thanks Pastor Steve and Diane for visiting me. It was nice to see you and chat with you and to know you're praying for me. I also hope you had an easy time running the errands you still had to run after visiting me, which your departure was prompted by the nurse Katrina who took me on my first lap or two around the 8th floor.
After that, my next visitor was Pastor Clapper, hurrah! lol. It was great to chat with you Pastor, and no I don't think your common practice of tugging on my pony-tail caused this tumor in my neck (No more so than Heidi's theory about the 'aliens who planted this tumor in my neck as a desprate trick for me to get attention'). You just may not be able to tug on my hair for a while, but we can do all things through Christ who gives us strength.
At the end of the day, Mom visited me and it was good to see you again, to know you did get some sleep considering when you got home and still had to bake cakes later in the morning.
I also must add my gratitude to Beck for taking care of Charle and Mystic, my next-door neighbor's pets who i was supposed to be taking care of while they're gone, instead all i got to do was watch them for a day, experimented by having Charle sleep in my room and found he was fine with that, i just hope Ozzy dosen't feel to jealous sharing the basement with Char. Also if you could remember to give Lucky the joint supplements i keep on my desk that'd be good.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
July 9th, Day 1 ----10:42pm
So it's late but i still said i'd try and log all my thoughts and considering if i keep myself awake until midnight i won't have to be woken up anyway in an hour to take my next dosage of decadron (the tumor shrinking steroid that gives me hot flashes, sweat, and characteristic hyperness seen mostly when i miss a consumption of my A.D.D. meds)
A few minutes ago the neuro specialist, Dr. Shnitker (i don't think i spelled it right, but i wanted to be able to pronounce his name correctly so i asked him and he told me "it's two syllables....shnit-ker", at least that's how it sounded to me, personally i like Dr. Snicker as a name. He's sweet and delicious! hahaha...just kidding)
Anyway, so what's it like being stuck on the Neuro/Ortho floor of Memorial? Well, i have a feeling the nurses like me. I think i'm the youngest person on the floor. Earlier a nurse took me on two laps around the floor (her name was Katrina) and considering the stiffness in my right leg from those locked up muscles, which no matter how often i stretch never get more flexible which just isn't right, she thought i was gonna run into a wall at one point, but i swerved and missed then shared with her i was ok, that i'd been walking around with a little less balance for a while, that i was the one who drove to Memorial (mother riding shot-gun of course and holding the passenger door with a death grip). Katrina just kinda said "you can't be serious" or something along those lines. Needless to say, by lap two i was moving a bit better, still like someone with a stiff knee brace on but walking easy all the same.
One thing i've noticed for a long time is how my feet roll. I learned how to properly walk to a strict degree my freshman year of high school when i was in marching band. We marched with the roll step, heel to toe. My left foot does this easily, but i've noticed that the tendons and muscles around my achilles and right ankle just don't want to bend, so when it comes down it dosen't roll, it goes heel-slap. I can't control my foot to roll naturally. Hopefully with the tumor gone i may get that movement back, and stop jarring my joints with such a hard movement (that and rolling that ankle, which i've noticed i've been prone to doing, especially when the ground was harder and i worked out at the barn where the ground was bumping and frozen hard)
I also have this habit of trying to get any medical staff who comes to take care of me smile if only for a moment. I took a medical ethics class during the Spring semester at IUSB (on accident, i clicked the wrong class when signing up but it turned out to be very interesting a true learning experience) so i am well aware that hospital staff work long hours and have a tough job. I know i'm here to get better, i've already assured them that i don't want to be here but that it's not because of them, it's me (which has gotten a smile or two), and i am determined to keep a positive attitude because, heck, the only one who knew about this growing tumor is God himself, it's no ones fault so there's no reason to have a negative outlook on this. God has a reason for everything he does, and right now i know one thing that he's proven about me is what a trooper i can be, having had to adapt to these small handicaps for the past year or so and just keep going on with my life. God gives us struggles so that we are truly grateful for those times when there are none at the moment.
Truly one of the most reassuring things through all of this is how Dr. Shnitker and Dr. Clayton (my general physician and supplier of my A.D.D. scripts) have spoken about this problem. Without worry. Sure, the problem is serious but nothing the Dr.'s have told me has given me any concern that i won't be seeing the light of day come Thursday after the surgery.
Closer to this morning, Dad dropped by with some clothes and a few more things essential for living in what i have come to see as 'a small hotel room with amazing room service that want you to live so badly they check your vitals every five hours or so'. Dr. Clayton ended up stopping by which was a relief and a surprise because no one was able to reach him yesterday when the Radiologist who looked over my neck MRI, Dr. Gratham, told me i should go to the emergency room. Upon his arrival i was happy, but again suprised. I told him this was strange, he looked 'normal'. In other words, a polo shirt and khaki shorts and not with a Dr. coat on or a stethoscope around his neck. He did a few reflex tests, balance and strength, etc. Asked if i had questions, and when Dad asked about the seriousness of my position, Dr. Clayton didn't hesitate to answer and say "oh yes, this is very serious. Anything putting pressure against the spinal column is very dangerous and should be dealt with ASAP." I'm sincerely grateful for his honesty. Again, it helps me know that i'm gonna be ok in the long run; God has sent competent doctors who i can trust to help me and with him guiding their hands i'll make it through.
So yes, yesterday during the ER waiting room time, i had a moment where i nearly fainted getting blood drawn out of me, which is a first. That's Beck's MO, not mine. I suppose the anxiety that was stirring underneath at all these things happening so suddenly decided it needed to show itself, that while i myself haven't felt any real fear from learning about the tumor (God's kept me alive this long, i don't think He's gonna quit on me now!) i was nervous/anxious. And so when a nurse was drawing blood samples out of me into 5 or 7 tubes (only one was filled all the way, the others just half), i suddenly commented that i wasn't feeling very good. Noises seemed to be coming from far away, and my vision was crossing. That, and my body got hit by a wave of heat so intense that i started sweating as if i had been stuck in a desert for hours. As i tried to keep myself as still as possible (reflex reaction so as not to collapse or fall on the floor) Mom leaned down in front of my line of vision and exclaimed, "whooowe, yeah, your pupils are huge". I ended up being able to rest forward on the arm rest and stayed like that as i was reminded to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Eventually i steadied and i was wheeled out to the waiting room. I had a second anxiety attack when a catheter was inserted in my right arm (with Mom's help i might add. She has so much experience with hospitals that she was able to point out a vein an inch or two up my wrist that wouldn't impede wrist or elbow mobility). This attack i think was brought on by the pinch of the needle, but i felt light headed, extremely hot, and then extremely cold from the sweat evaporating and the AC blowing against my now somewhat damp body. I ended up getting two blankets on me (courtesy of a nurse) and also some food. I hadn't really eaten that much Friday (kinda busy) so the can of G2 orange gatorade, half-cut turkey sandwich, and zesta crackers were welcomed, and helped to settle that strange queasy feeling in my stomach.
My throat was really tight, like i was gonna cry, and before i did go to sleep for a few hours (until i was woken up around 5am because the nurse left my door open and so i heard all the noise of medical staff talking and wheeling things around. To combat this interruption, i took one of the pillows provided and laid it over my head while turning on my left side, still being ever so careful to not move the arm with the catheter in it. Ever since it got stuck and taped on me it's felt like someone keeps poking me with a needle when the reality is that i just have a rubber tube in my vein. A needle was used to initially open a hole, but it retracted once the tube was inserted. So now i'm easily given injections through two little plugs. So far all i've been given is Saline to keep my blood from clotting in the tubes, but it does have a side effect. My arm gets a cold flush and i get this metallic taste in my mouth, as if i had licked a penny. Other than that, the steroid is taken orally as a pill) a few tears did get squeezed out, but i still didn't have any sensation of fear or horrible saddness, just a visible form of the anxiety coming out from within me i guess.
The catheter, after having it in for a day, has made my arm kinda sore, and i'm careful to move it in certain ways or else i get a sharp jab of pain, but it's gonna be there for a while so i might as well suck it up. Considerig how every place i moved it hurt when it was originally in, it feels a lot better, proof of the amazing healing abilities God granted our bodies when He created us.
Well, it's nearly midnight, 8 minutes till. I've written quite a lot, and if i'm gonna be able to remember not to kill first and wonder why the floor is a bloody mess when i get woken in 6 hours for the next steroid, i should get some rest. I'll finish the rest of my thoughts tomorrow. Until then, goodnight.
Sarah
11:54pm EAST.
This tumor on the spine just makes sense for so many things, who'd-a-thunk-it?
A few minutes ago the neuro specialist, Dr. Shnitker (i don't think i spelled it right, but i wanted to be able to pronounce his name correctly so i asked him and he told me "it's two syllables....shnit-ker", at least that's how it sounded to me, personally i like Dr. Snicker as a name. He's sweet and delicious! hahaha...just kidding)
Anyway, so what's it like being stuck on the Neuro/Ortho floor of Memorial? Well, i have a feeling the nurses like me. I think i'm the youngest person on the floor. Earlier a nurse took me on two laps around the floor (her name was Katrina) and considering the stiffness in my right leg from those locked up muscles, which no matter how often i stretch never get more flexible which just isn't right, she thought i was gonna run into a wall at one point, but i swerved and missed then shared with her i was ok, that i'd been walking around with a little less balance for a while, that i was the one who drove to Memorial (mother riding shot-gun of course and holding the passenger door with a death grip). Katrina just kinda said "you can't be serious" or something along those lines. Needless to say, by lap two i was moving a bit better, still like someone with a stiff knee brace on but walking easy all the same.
One thing i've noticed for a long time is how my feet roll. I learned how to properly walk to a strict degree my freshman year of high school when i was in marching band. We marched with the roll step, heel to toe. My left foot does this easily, but i've noticed that the tendons and muscles around my achilles and right ankle just don't want to bend, so when it comes down it dosen't roll, it goes heel-slap. I can't control my foot to roll naturally. Hopefully with the tumor gone i may get that movement back, and stop jarring my joints with such a hard movement (that and rolling that ankle, which i've noticed i've been prone to doing, especially when the ground was harder and i worked out at the barn where the ground was bumping and frozen hard)
I also have this habit of trying to get any medical staff who comes to take care of me smile if only for a moment. I took a medical ethics class during the Spring semester at IUSB (on accident, i clicked the wrong class when signing up but it turned out to be very interesting a true learning experience) so i am well aware that hospital staff work long hours and have a tough job. I know i'm here to get better, i've already assured them that i don't want to be here but that it's not because of them, it's me (which has gotten a smile or two), and i am determined to keep a positive attitude because, heck, the only one who knew about this growing tumor is God himself, it's no ones fault so there's no reason to have a negative outlook on this. God has a reason for everything he does, and right now i know one thing that he's proven about me is what a trooper i can be, having had to adapt to these small handicaps for the past year or so and just keep going on with my life. God gives us struggles so that we are truly grateful for those times when there are none at the moment.
Truly one of the most reassuring things through all of this is how Dr. Shnitker and Dr. Clayton (my general physician and supplier of my A.D.D. scripts) have spoken about this problem. Without worry. Sure, the problem is serious but nothing the Dr.'s have told me has given me any concern that i won't be seeing the light of day come Thursday after the surgery.
Closer to this morning, Dad dropped by with some clothes and a few more things essential for living in what i have come to see as 'a small hotel room with amazing room service that want you to live so badly they check your vitals every five hours or so'. Dr. Clayton ended up stopping by which was a relief and a surprise because no one was able to reach him yesterday when the Radiologist who looked over my neck MRI, Dr. Gratham, told me i should go to the emergency room. Upon his arrival i was happy, but again suprised. I told him this was strange, he looked 'normal'. In other words, a polo shirt and khaki shorts and not with a Dr. coat on or a stethoscope around his neck. He did a few reflex tests, balance and strength, etc. Asked if i had questions, and when Dad asked about the seriousness of my position, Dr. Clayton didn't hesitate to answer and say "oh yes, this is very serious. Anything putting pressure against the spinal column is very dangerous and should be dealt with ASAP." I'm sincerely grateful for his honesty. Again, it helps me know that i'm gonna be ok in the long run; God has sent competent doctors who i can trust to help me and with him guiding their hands i'll make it through.
So yes, yesterday during the ER waiting room time, i had a moment where i nearly fainted getting blood drawn out of me, which is a first. That's Beck's MO, not mine. I suppose the anxiety that was stirring underneath at all these things happening so suddenly decided it needed to show itself, that while i myself haven't felt any real fear from learning about the tumor (God's kept me alive this long, i don't think He's gonna quit on me now!) i was nervous/anxious. And so when a nurse was drawing blood samples out of me into 5 or 7 tubes (only one was filled all the way, the others just half), i suddenly commented that i wasn't feeling very good. Noises seemed to be coming from far away, and my vision was crossing. That, and my body got hit by a wave of heat so intense that i started sweating as if i had been stuck in a desert for hours. As i tried to keep myself as still as possible (reflex reaction so as not to collapse or fall on the floor) Mom leaned down in front of my line of vision and exclaimed, "whooowe, yeah, your pupils are huge". I ended up being able to rest forward on the arm rest and stayed like that as i was reminded to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Eventually i steadied and i was wheeled out to the waiting room. I had a second anxiety attack when a catheter was inserted in my right arm (with Mom's help i might add. She has so much experience with hospitals that she was able to point out a vein an inch or two up my wrist that wouldn't impede wrist or elbow mobility). This attack i think was brought on by the pinch of the needle, but i felt light headed, extremely hot, and then extremely cold from the sweat evaporating and the AC blowing against my now somewhat damp body. I ended up getting two blankets on me (courtesy of a nurse) and also some food. I hadn't really eaten that much Friday (kinda busy) so the can of G2 orange gatorade, half-cut turkey sandwich, and zesta crackers were welcomed, and helped to settle that strange queasy feeling in my stomach.
My throat was really tight, like i was gonna cry, and before i did go to sleep for a few hours (until i was woken up around 5am because the nurse left my door open and so i heard all the noise of medical staff talking and wheeling things around. To combat this interruption, i took one of the pillows provided and laid it over my head while turning on my left side, still being ever so careful to not move the arm with the catheter in it. Ever since it got stuck and taped on me it's felt like someone keeps poking me with a needle when the reality is that i just have a rubber tube in my vein. A needle was used to initially open a hole, but it retracted once the tube was inserted. So now i'm easily given injections through two little plugs. So far all i've been given is Saline to keep my blood from clotting in the tubes, but it does have a side effect. My arm gets a cold flush and i get this metallic taste in my mouth, as if i had licked a penny. Other than that, the steroid is taken orally as a pill) a few tears did get squeezed out, but i still didn't have any sensation of fear or horrible saddness, just a visible form of the anxiety coming out from within me i guess.
The catheter, after having it in for a day, has made my arm kinda sore, and i'm careful to move it in certain ways or else i get a sharp jab of pain, but it's gonna be there for a while so i might as well suck it up. Considerig how every place i moved it hurt when it was originally in, it feels a lot better, proof of the amazing healing abilities God granted our bodies when He created us.
Well, it's nearly midnight, 8 minutes till. I've written quite a lot, and if i'm gonna be able to remember not to kill first and wonder why the floor is a bloody mess when i get woken in 6 hours for the next steroid, i should get some rest. I'll finish the rest of my thoughts tomorrow. Until then, goodnight.
Sarah
11:54pm EAST.
This tumor on the spine just makes sense for so many things, who'd-a-thunk-it?
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