Monday morning, I woke up with a pain in my butt, literally. It hurt to sit or lay down and most of all, walk. No biggie, right? Probably just sciatica or something like a strained muscle, right? I thought I’d just rest it and find a comfortable way to sleep then get up and feel less pain.
I was wrong. The next day it hurt worse! I struggled to get downstairs. And it had moved to my groin muscle. I went wobbling into the boys school to pick up Daniel who had been suspended. But the pain got worse. By 3, I had somehow gotten myself back upstairs into bed. But the pain got worse.
I called our insurance help line. They recommend I call my doctor. My doctor offered to see me the next day or me go to the ER. After asking what was available, they transferred me and that person said to go to the ER.
Parking as close as I could, I had to stop several times from the pain from my car to the ER. Finally inside, it took another hour before getting an actual room. I was there for far shorter time than many others waiting in the room.
It still took 3 more hours to see a doctor. They checked my blood. They checked my heart. They checked my leg. And just when they were about to discharge me, the doctor decided to try an ultrasound. What they found was a massive blood clot from my groin down my whole left leg. Immediately, they opted to treat me in observation on an outpatient basis. (This is hardly out patient.)
Since then, I’ve been monitored and poked and monitored. I can’t be released yet because my heart rate is having a HUGE spike every time I stand up. The only time I even get up is to use the bathroom. At this point, I have to call the nurse to even do that much. Suggestion is that there’s likely a clot in my lung as well. They can’t find it, but they believe it’s in my right lung which is not breathing as well as my left. And despite my heart rate spiking, and the pain in my leg, everything else looks fine.
But now, I’m entering into night 3 at the hospital. And this is apparently when my anxiety sets in. It started this morning, honestly. But as the day progressed and they told me more. And James had to leave to get Daniel because of another suspension. The anxiety set in. And the lack of social contact. That’s oddly getting to me.
The longer I’m here, the more I can’t pass. This is one of the few places I feel I must pass. I’m sure that mindset doesn’t help.
Oh. And pastoral service volunteers suck. Don’t try to explain the ways to calm down to someone who has been in therapy as long as me. Mindfulness techniques don’t work. Deep breathing doesn’t work. Why? Because then I can still hear the hospital around me. Then I start obsessing and worrying over my breathing. Active engagement in something not related to my worry is the only thing that works since I’m not allowed to move out of this bed. Or music. If I had remembered my headphones.