Retraining blows....

Retraining blows…



This is my running goal...
I AM A BEAST!

I think we have established that my body has been torn up in more ways than most people can fathom but this fall it took another couple of blows.  Since I had Clara and I was completely ‘gutted’ my body created a lot of adhesions throughout my abdomen.  At first it was just a nuisance, I had to follow a careful diet, take a few prescriptions to keep things moving and that worked…for a time anyway.  Over the past two years I wound up spending more than 30 nights in the hospital with small bowel obstructions (SBO) due the adhesions.

This spring I had my best running season ever, in fact I think it was a season of personal bests that I will never beat.  I trained incredibly hard, was in super mental and physical health, and honestly felt ready to do my best at every race.  In fact, when I qualified for Boston I had spent Sunday-Thursday in the hospital with a SBO came home, did a few miles on Friday and Saturday and qualified on Sunday.  In fact my entire running season pretty much followed that same schedule.

I finally could not take it anymore (and neither could my family).  It was hard going to bed at night and not knowing if I would have to make a mad dash for the ER at 2:00 a.m. usually driving myself (not being pregnant and always having a “hospital bag” ready is not normal).  In fact one day I had actually parked my car in Leonardtown to head out for a ten mile run got out went about two miles, got back in the car, headed to the ER and spent 6 nights in the hospital.  This was not how I wanted to live (plus, SBO’s are really really painful).

I went to surgeon after surgeon and I finally found someone I felt comfortable with who could do the procedure laparoscopically at Johns Hopkins.  On August 3^rd, 2012 he cured my belly woes and for the first time in over four years I was not nauseous, no more sucking on Zofran every few hours just to hold my cookies.  Perfect.  Unfortunately he found one of my ovaries to be large and ‘unfavorable’ looking.  I had to have it followed up on.

So, I went to Washington Hospital Center’s (WHC) Surgical Oncologist and was told I was too complicated…um, wha…oh shit!

Off to GBMC where WHC referred me…on September 17^th, I got the ‘unfavorable’ ovary removed (also laparoscopically) and the recovery has been hideous (I think I am one surgery away from officially being able to use the mens room, shorter lines...SCORE).  I got a massive lung infection of some sort from the intubation and have been struggling to breathe.  So getting back into running has been a trip (and yes, I am still running, I think we have established that I will run through anything).



Me trying to breathe while running...pretty!

Between the two surgeries I had a couple of 45-55 mile weeks and actually did not feel too horrible. After the second surgery running has been a beast.  Yesterday after timing the Costume Caper 5K in Colton’s Point I decided to go for a ten mile run.  It was the first day that I was averaging a marathon pace for most of my run, unfortunately it was only a ten mile run.  As I retrain I am finding that I feel big and clunky when I am trying to gain speed…probably the not breathing thing getting in the way. 

I know I can get back, it’s the time that is killing me.

My friends kept telling me that my body would be so happy with the break from running and I would come back kicking some serious ass.  WRONG. 

What I feel like when
 running since my surgery!

Luckily I have a few running partners who are not afraid to push me a little and who also let me rest and walk when I need a break.  This is the first time that I am doing more partner running rather than solo running and it actually feels amazing.  I still enjoy the solitude and quiet I find when I am out on a long run, but even more I have loved feeling the sense of community and support from other runners. 

Are you a runner?

Which do you prefer, the solo or partner run?

Have you had to retrain?  Any advice, tips?

Clara is born and mommy is alive!

First introduction...LOVE!

Every mother has a birth story, sometimes it is the magical two hours of labor and two pushes, others offer a bit more work and turmoil, some are downright painful and others, well others are the kind that horror movie writers steal scream sound bites from (and possibly have actresses look at footage of the mother screaming just to get appropriate facial expressions).

No, I am not going to take you through a blow by blow of my labor and delivery.  I just want to document that I survived my last C-section.



Clara was due on October 26^th, 2007 but when I went to get my weekly ultrasound at 36 weeks they discovered that she had a triple nuchal cord (meaning the cord had wrapped itself around her neck two complete times).  My doctor was AWESOME, (from here on she will be referred to as Dr. Awesome) since I had a history of stillbirth due to nuchal cord accidents (cord wrapped around baby’s neck) she decided to admit me for continuous fetal monitoring.  I checked into the hospital on September 27^th, almost a full month before her due date.

Unfortunately, Dr. Awesome had already scheduled a vacation to England and left two days after I was admitted and my care was then turned over to her partner, we will call her Dr. A$$hat.  After 5 days of continuous monitoring Clara was remaining healthy but I was tired of being in the hospital so Dr. A$$hat ordered an amniocentesis to see if her lungs had developed enough for delivery.  They were developed but she had also passed her first meconium so it was GO TIME…stat C-section.

My beautiful, healthy and amazing girl was born 3:17 p.m. on October 1^st, 2007.  10 perfect fingers and 10 very long toes.

After the C-section I never felt ‘right’, they could not give me pain meds or let me sit up because my blood pressure was too low.  The first night was absolute misery, I was in so much pain that I seriously thought I was going to die, but eventually it subsided (Dr. A$$hat said it was gas), useful information would have been that I had a rapidly dropping hemoglobin and hematocrit (she knew it, I did not). 



Dr. A$$hat's general demeanor.

The next two days were fairly uneventful, I was still in the hospital but I never regained my energy.  This was my third C-section and I knew that things were not quite right but Dr. A$$hat was certain all was well.

On October 4^th, I woke up at 2:30 a.m., Clara was sound asleep in my arms but I was feeling a lot of pressure so I decided to use the restroom, I gave her a kiss and laid her in the bassinet…it would be a long time before I got to see or hold her again.  I stood up and IMMDIATELY I was in mind boggling, excruciating pain.  I went to the bathroom anyway just to see if it would help, after all, my genius Dr. had said the pain was probably gas.  No such luck.  Eventually I made it back to my bed to ring the nurse…there was no way I pulling the cord in the bathroom (too stubborn).

My amazing nurse (who saved my life) came in and in less than ten minutes had my stats checked, IV started, x-ray ordered, blood drawn and was pushing me down the hall to x-ray.  I could hear Clara crying as I was wheeled away in my bed, screaming in pain.



Her big sisters love her to pieces.

My initial H&H came back at 5 and 18…not completely compatible with life but very indicative of hemorrhage (internal or otherwise).  The Dr. decided to order an x-ray which does not show internal bleeding (she had decided I had an ileus and was just a whiner) and the x-ray was, of course, normal.  It showed that my lungs had partially started to collapse but it was not significant beyond that.

 

At some point while I was in x-ray the pain got so terrible that I literally had an 'out of body' experience.  The tech kept shoving the film into my back which is exactly where all of the blood had pooled.  My kidneys, liver, bladder and lungs had been displaced by the blood clot and she kept ramming the hard film right in to it.  Eventually it became too much and it was like I was floating in the corner watching it happen to someone else.  Ironically, I have never before believed in the 'out of body' phenomenon and I still am on the fence about it....even though it happened to me.

On the way back from x-ray (which took almost 90 minutes to get decent films since I was unable to move) I informed my nurse that I was going to die.

That got her attention.

My super awesome nurse trying to hang my blood products fast enough to keep my H&H stable.

Dr. A$$hat had said the films were fine, I was fine, she wanted her sleep.  My nurse decided to take my blood three hours earlier than ordered because she could see what was happening.  The nurse also told Dr. A$$hat she could send me for a CT or she would be heading to the ER to get a “real doctor” for me.  While in CT my blood work came back and I was bleeding out (internally) rapidly.  When I returned from CT shit got serious.  Bags of blood were hung, more IV’s were started, I had so many medical staff around my bed it was scary.  At this point I could hardly see, my O² sats were dropping, and I think everyone thought it was over for me.

The charge nurse's feelings about getting
the consent form signed.

I will never forget when the Dr. tried to get me to sign the consent form while the charge nurse for the hospital was trying to start my IV.  She kept trying to shove a pen my hand and the nurse kept losing my vein.  The nurse stopped, gave her the dirtiest look I have EVER seen and said "this IV is far more important than your f-ing piece of paper."  Me, ever the peacemaker was all…”I’ll just sign it with my left hand.”

By the time they wheeled me into the OR I honestly did not care if I lived or died I was in that much pain.  I had always thought that I would fight for my life tooth and nail, and I did, but with no blood, no oxygen, and no pain control the struggle seemed futile.  It’s almost like your body knows you cannot use the energy to fight, you have to mentally stay calm and let it do its work…it is far more capable of making good survival choices than you are.

When I woke up in the PACU I was still intubated and panicked.  Nurse Smokey McSmokerson kept trying to calm me down but she just made me glad that something was breathing for me.  I was able to write that I wanted my normal Internal Medicine Group in charge of my care rather than the hospitalists but that was about it.



Visiting me in the ICU.

Eventually they got me settled in the ICU but I still had no clue what had happened and what a long road I was about to travel to recovery. 

Through this I ended up receiving more than 12 units of blood, 7 units of Fresh Frozen Plasma, multiple units of platelets and whatever else they could pump into me.  It was not until my husband was able to come see me and I could write to him “where is my uterus?” that I knew for certain I had a hysterectomy.  Of course, as the daughter of a pathologist I had to know *exactly* where my uterus was and why it was not already enroute to the AFIP...come on people, let's get it together.

I can remember still being on the ventilator unable to speak and the nurse was counting my staples, 57 straight from my chest to my pelvis.  It took me over a week before I would leave the ICU and almost another week to come home.  They were very good about allowing me liberal visits with my baby (even in the ICU) but it was not the same.  I spent many moments in tears, lots of time in pain, but at the end of it I had the perfect baby I had dreamed about.

Dr. A$$hat kept coming in to reassure me that I obviously had a bleeding disorder, none of this was her fault, and since I had just had another major surgery I could bleed out at any moment.  Clearly, this was entirely a case of a botched C-section by an incompetent surgeon, who is no longer delivering babies thank you very much.

For Clara’s first birthday party we had a huge blood drive at our church to celebrate the nameless, faceless, blood donors who gave me the gift of my first year with my daughter and an additional year with my first two miracles and my wonderful husband.



Daddy with his girls.

Clearly this was the beginning of a journey…there were funny moments, sad moments, and moments so tender and loving that I have come to love and appreciate my family in ways I never thought possible.  My body is still suffering the sequelae from this event, my most recent post hemorrhage surgery was just this past August…but I try with everything I have to be a loving parent, an active parent, I still run and teach aerobics and I REFUSE to stop.  If anyone can appreciate how precious and tenuous life really is, it just might be me.

Leaving the hospital, long before I did.

What has changed your perspective on life?

Have you ever thought about an out of body experience and do you believe in them?