Let the games begin

I wake up to find a big box of medical supplies on my doorstep.  Let's see what's inside...

It's a give-yourself-an-IV kit.  How fun!  I sit and stare at the contents for about an hour waiting for the nurse to get here to start the line.  I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to function for the next 3 days with this in my hand and I realize it beats being in the hospital, so I'll figure out how to deal.

This is what it looks like when I'm getting the infusion.  

 

This is what my refrigerator will look like for the weekend.  I thought the bottles of medicine looked cute next to the yogurt. 

Anyway, back to the infusion....It's quite interesting to do this yourself.  First, you have to flush the line with saline. Then you just hook up the little bottle.  The medicine is in a little balloon.  When the balloon goes flat, it's all done. 

Of course there are other clues that the Solu-Medrol is coursing through my veins.  My arm is stinging uncontrollably and my mouth has a terrible metallic taste in it.  Nothing tastes right the entire day.  Even water is whacked out.  I can't sleep.  And finally, my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest.

All of this would be worth it, if it took down the inflammation in my brain.  After the 1st dose, no change. 

"If you are calling about a cat or dog, please press 2."

I went to my most trusted coping mechanism the afternoon/evening of my appointment and into the next day.  Sleeping.  Does wonders for me. 

I slept through a voicemail from the drug company that was going to send me the miracle drug.  When I called them back, I got the main menu.   "Thank you for calling SBH Medical.  If you are a Veterinarian, please press 1.  If you are calling about a cat or a dog, please press 2."  I wish I was making this up.  I listened to all the menu options and didn't hear anything like, "If you are a human, please press 8.", so I just started pressing numbers until I got someone.  Luckily, she was nice.

My medicine will arrive in the morning by Federal Express. 

My home health vet, uh, I mean, nurse will get there shortly after.

Not what I had hoped...or expected

I have been putting off writing about my doctor's appointment for a couple of reasons.  It didn't go the way I wanted or the way I expected.  And if I told people about it, it would become real.  I'm quite happy living in a fantasy world.

My appointment was last Wednesday morning.  I got to UC in plenty of time, armed with a list of questions and a second set of ears (Kat).  I wanted to know if I could go back to work in some capacity.  I knew being on the streets was still out of the question.  I also wanted to know more about how this whole disease thing was going to go.  Surely, they had an idea by now, right?

I usually don't get to nervous going to doctors, but I knew when we were in the waiting room and the magazine was full of Star Wars pictures that something wasn't right.  Star Wars has never failed to get my attention until now.  I'm in trouble.

The doc comes in and we discuss how I'm feeling about the same as when I left the hospital...able to get around, but still dizzy with no balance.  He is surprised I'm not better.  I'm not surprised, though.  Th medicine didn't start working in the hospital when it was supposed to and everything I read tells me that if you have balance, coordination problems and cerebellar involvement, you aren't going to have an easy go of it.  Supposedly, those are the hardest symptoms to treat.  I don't like doing things the easy way.

He watches me walk down the hall.  Apparently, I look like someone who is drunk but is trying to act like they are not drunk.  Then I do the heel to toe walk.  Kat tells me I'm under arrest!  I'm super amused.

We checked out my MRI again.  I have little spots scattered throughout my brain.  Then there is a big spot, probably the size of a half dollar on the left side of my cerebellum, attached to my brain stem.  Doc says if it wasn't for that spot, I would be fine.  How surreal it was to look at a computer screen with images of my brain on it.  Part of me still doesn't believe it. 

I have one big question....since I feel like I'm at a plateau, will this be my baseline? "I don't know", doc says.  I would honestly be fine with that.  It's the not knowing that is driving me bonkers.  You could tell me I need to have to have a foot amputated next week, and since I know that is what is going to happen, I would be ok, because I could deal with it.  How exactly do you deal with something when no one has any answers? 

The rest of my questions got the same sort of answers....I don't know, or, it's too early to tell.  What I do know:

• I still can't go to work.  I really thought he would say I can sit on the desk for at least a few hours a day, but he says I'm not ready yet.  That totally caught me off guard.
• I will go back in a month
• Repeat the MRI in June
• 3 days of IV medicine at my house starting now.

I could open my own medical supply company...now we are adding needles.  Lovely.

I guess the home health people can shred my discharge papers...

Week Three...Not that I'm counting.

I'm getting there.  My third week of being "homebound" and it's not really that bad.  I get to get out pretty regularly.  I'm able to keep my house pretty organized.  But I'm starting to miss work.  It sounds really nice to not have to worry about it, but after a while, it's boring to be home by yourself all the time. 

So, I decide to visit District 1.  I really can't say enough great things about the people I work with and my bosses.  They could have been half as nice as they have been to me and I still would have thought they went over and beyond what they needed to do for me.  I was so worried about not being there.  Yet, every time I see them, they completely put me at ease and remind me that work is the last thing I needed to worry about.  We really are a family.  We may get on each others nerves once in a while, but when something happens people really do step up.  I'm eternally grateful.

Two more visits from the nurse and Jim this week.  It appears I'm going to get discharged from their care, and will be able to go to outpatient PT.  Seems like a step in the right direction.  Jim reevaluates me on the Tinneti scale and still considers me a bit of a fall risk but not as bad.  Baby steps...I'll take it. 

So, after Jim gets my referral for outpatient PT, he recommends discharge for me.  I guess his job was to make sure I could safely maneuver myself around my house.  Now that I can do that, the outpatient stuff will hopefully make me a bit steadier and deal with my balance and incoordination problems a little better.

The next day, the nurse comes out to officially discharge me.  What a happy day!  I'm not homebound anymore, even though I am still not driving, but it makes me feel better.

I have a little tiny setback the evening of my discharge.  I feel like I'm getting dizzy again at night.  I felt for awhile that I am probably always dizzy, but since your body's systems compensate for things like this, I figure I'm just getting used to it.  But on this night, things start moving just a bit again and when I close my eyes I can feel myself spinning.  The doc said the medicine I got in the hospital should work for about 6 weeks.  Of course they were supposed to start working after the 2nd dose and didn't.  I'm guessing I'm just going to be a little difficult.

But my visit to Dr. Kanter is in 2 days!  I can't wait.

Week Two....or "Puttin' on the Ritz"

Same visits, just a different week.  I managed to get a cane in hopes that sometime this week Jim would help me to use it. 

He comes bearing gifts of more and more exercises.  And now we are taking walks around my yard.  My nystagmus is still messed up and we work on that a bit.  He says that if my eyes settle down a bit and I eventually don't get too dizzy when I turn my head, I can probably practice driving.  He suggests that I have someone take me to a parking lot where I can't hurt anyone, for the first time.  Definitely a good idea.  I'm getting there, and I really want to try, but I'm nervous.  I don't think I'm quite ready.

But I get some super good news during his next visit!  He thinks I can start using my cane!  I'm a little wobbly at first, but he teaches me the correct technique and I get it pretty fast.  Just hanging up my walker makes me feel great.  My first goal has been reached!  Baby steps are really working out for me.  If I don't take it in small chunks, I will probably feel like I am getting no where.  But the cane was a huge step for me!  Now if I can just get you people to play the song, "Puttin' on the Ritz" by Taco for me when I walk into a room.   Hmmm....a song by a group named after a mexican food???  Seeing a pattern here?

My First Week Home...

My nurse and physical therapist visits begin.  The nurse comes in the morning to check my vitals to make sure that I am fit for Physical therapy.  Jim, the physical therapist, comes in the afternoon.  The first week, he gives me several balance exercises to do.  They don't seem like they should be that difficult, but my right side is still very weak and I don't do too well on them.  It's very frustrating, because l look at them and think, "I should be able to do this!".  Anytime I see someone, I make them do the exercises.  I guess I just need proof that someone else can do them and that this really is happening to me.  It's still hard to comprehend.

Jim evaluates my balance abilities based on the Tinneti Balance Scale.  A little walking, a little nudging to see if I will fall down and it ends with me still being a fall risk.  I figured.  I'm still needing the walker for a bit longer.

I like to practice my exercises in front of people.  It's funny to watch their faces when I start to tumble.  I feel like I'm a carnival act..."Step right up and watch the lady tumble..."  Usually my act ends with a "If you fall down, I'm going to beat you up." or "Will you please just sit down!  You are making me nervous."  Fine.  Y'all are no fun.

But, I keep working on my exercises and Jim comes back in a couple days.  Adds some new ones, and I'll tell you, they are wearing me out!  But I am improving a bit.  The best thing is that I have not fallen in awhile, and when I lose my balance, I have learned to catch myself.  Apparently, that is why I am doing therapy.  Not that it will get my balance back, if my cerebellum is permanently messed up, that won't happen.  But, if I can learn to deal with it and not fall down, that's OK.  If only I could drive....

I wish I could explain how difficult it is to try to learn to do easy things over again.  I have to really talk to my brain and basically will it to make my right food do things that should be easy.  Like standing on just my right foot and going up on my toes.  Not happening.  I stumble and can hardly do it while holding on to something.  And because I sometimes stick my tongue out when I really concentrate, I bite it a lot.

Good thing it's on the side I can't feel.

I'm pretty lucky

When something bad happens to you, or at least for me, I find it a little difficult to ask for help.  I'm pretty good at dishing it out, but I really don't want to be a burden (apparently, I get that from my aunt, Sissy).  But at the same time, I realize how lucky I am to have the friends and family I have, because people are jumping out of the woodwork to offer me help!  And just so you know, I don't offer if I don't mean it, so I'll assume the same is for you.  None of this, "I'm available between 7:30 and 7:35 in the morning" (Kisha!).

I already wrote about some people, but let me give you a few more examples....I really wanted to go to the store.  But I really didn't want to have to ask.  So after sitting with my phone in my hand and thinking about it way to long, I called Carol.  Who came right over.  We went to the store and then to lunch.  And while we were eating, her husband Joe, called to see if I needed my grass cut.  Um, when do I not need it cut??  He has cut it for me at least 2 times since this started and the yard looks great!

Then the other night, my cell phone charger won't work.  Because it is frayed.  Like the nerves in my brain.

Not a super picture, but the example they give you to explain what is happening with your myelin is a frayed wire.  I thought it was appropriate.

Anyhoo...My phone was dead, I couldn't get my charger to work, and I had one of my nurses to call in the morning.  I had to send a message on Facebook to Stephanie, who was thankfully working (although probably still would have come even if she wasn't).  I'm so glad I live in the beat she runs.  She and Jen came over and went to the store to buy me a new charger.  And since they were there, some cat food.  What saviors they were for me that night! 

My mom would send me home with groceries.  Dad gives me his Opera Cream candies. Laura, Jeff and Bill pick me up and take me home pretty much anytime I ask.  Bridget and John are up all hours of the night to chat.  Evynn, my almost 3yo niece keeps pulling my head down and moving my hair around trying to find my boo boo....

Yeah, things could be worse.

You call me Grandma one more time....and a trip to the Thompson B&B

It's the weekend!  Not that it matters so much for me except I get to go out today.  Going to lunch with Lisa and Logan.  Mexican, of course.  It's a bit crowded out and again I'm a little uncomfortable with my walker.  I don't want to be, but I am.  Lisa may have noticed this, I'm not sure, but either way, when she called me "Grandma", it pretty much made me crack up and threaten her with physical violence as soon as I could manage it.  Salsa and laughter really make things right with the world.

After lunch, I went home to get ready for my trip to Pendleton County, KY!  I pretend it 's my southern house.  Tim and Renee picked me up so I could stay at their house.  I tease them that it is like a Bed and Breakfast.  I just have to sit there and they bring me food.  And the Strawberry Shortcake Renee makes...to die for!  Of course, when I can walk to the barn without Renee holding my hand, I'm sure I'll be working in the horse stalls again.  But I'll take the pampering while I can!

 Besides the relaxing and good food at Renee's, the other reason I wanted to stay was so I could go to church the next day.  It was one week I did not want to miss.  One of our past pastors, Curt Degraaff, would be preaching and I adore him.  Calvary Baptist has really been blessed with great preachers. 

Renee got threatened with violence, also.  She saw one of those scooters and said, "That's next!".  I think the threats didn't really work, though.  While I was scolding her, I ran my walker into the wall.  But, perhaps because of that, people let me cut in line to see Pastor Curt.  I'm kind of diggin' the walker license!  (Tim wants to use the license to get him on all the rides at Kings Island without waiting....)

The day continued great.  Tim and Renee handed me off to my family and I got to see everyone.  We had a great dinner and were just generally silly.  My niece enjoyed helping me walk by getting behind me and pushing my walker for me.  It was very cute, "I'll help Meeps!" 

The weekend was a super time compared to my stay at the hospital and the upcoming week of physical therapy.  But, I really want to ditch this walker, so bring it!

Homebound? Seriously??

The home health company stopped by today to admit me to their care and set up nursing and physical therapist visits.  She asked me a bunch of crazy questions, did the vitals thing and gave me a bunch of paperwork. 

Then she tells me, "Since you are homebound, something, something, something."  I didn't hear anything after homebound.  I guess it was just a word game...Technically, I couldn't drive or walk without assistance.  I was stuck at home.  I guess that makes me homebound.  It was just weird to hear it.  But hopefully it was only for a couple of weeks.

The nurse's best friend has MS.  I have friends that have MS and it seems that a lot of people know someone with it.  Which makes it all the more frustrating when no one can predict the course the disease will take.  Everyone seems to start out with a different set of symptoms and there really isn't one treatment course that works.  Everything I read says not to compare yourself with anyone else. 

Leave it to me to get something difficult.

Home...a new kind of captivity

After 5 days away, it was wonderful to be back in my own house.  Just that made my mood 10 times better.  My cats were afraid of my walker, though, and seemed not too happy that I deserted them for so long.

That whole story about me staying on 1 floor just was not going to work.  I was going to sleep in my own bed and use the regular bathroom!  Kat stayed with me for most of the day and offered to spend the night, and as much fun as a slumber party is, this was something I had to prove to myself that I could do.  And I did.  I slowly made my way up to my bedroom.

What a glorious night of sleep it was!  Until 6AM when I stuck my arm out for my finger stick.  Thank goodness is was a dream and I was able to go back to sleep.

I was going to try to get a few things done around my house.  Cleaning, mainly.  I didn't want to be embarrassed if people came over.  And since I still couldn't drive, I was going to need some human contact.  It's weird, the fatigue that comes with MS.  I would be fine straightening up a few things then I would have to sit down.  Now this is what I used to do when cleaning, but that was just because I felt like it!  Now my body makes me. 

I started thinking about my "plans" for this year.  I had planned on being careful with my money so I could pay off some bills and do some renovations on my house.  I wasn't going to take a lot of time off of work.  I really wanted to be committed to all of this.  And the thing I wanted more than anything was to get promoted to Specialist.

I'll tell you something....you may make plans, but God's plan for your life will always trump what you want.  He knows best...  I could almost hear him saying "Mary, Mary, Mary....Let's try my plan instead."  What choice do I really have?  I can learn to really, really trust him, or curl up in a fetal position and feel sorry for myself. 

I'm going to have to go with the trust thing.  Crying gives me a big headache, and let's face it, my brain has enough problems as it is.

Must....Have....Mexican.....Food....

The first thing I wanted to do when I got discharged is to eat something I can sorta taste.  And since Kat and I go to mexican restaurants 99.9% of the time, I knew I wouldn't have to beg too much. 

We get to the restaurant, and it's my first time outside with my walker.  I'm a bit self-conscience.  But it's not too busy, so it's a good first outing.  The salsa was probably good, but at least I could taste spiciness....I'm feeling alive again.

Then something very curious happens.  A guy comes into the restaurant and stops at every table asking people something.  When he finally gets to us, he asks if we would like to donate to something....I look at him and point at my walker and asked him the same thing.  Afterall, I have a deductible....Looks like I have a "walker license", too.

We head to the grocery next.  I'm shuffling around with Kat following, pushing the cart.  After we get to the third aisle or so, I hear her quietly laughing.  When I look at her, she says, "Every old person who passes us, looks at you with sympathy."  That's it, next time I'm writing up a shopping list and staying home. 

I told everyone who called me or came to see me that I didn't want a lot of sympathy.  I'm still Mary.  You still need to tease me and treat me like normal.   I still love to laugh and do all the things I did before this.  I just have to learn to adjust a few things.

And figure out where to buy a cane with a sword hidden in it.

Captivity....Day 5 "I am outta here"

If all goes well, this is it.  I get to go.  I get mildly concerned when they come in to check my vitals.  My heart rate is a 49 and it causes the "Low" alarm to go off.  Seriously....But after checking a few things, no one is concerned.  To celebrate, I order the oatmeal!

I get my last dose of medicine and head down to therapy.  Today, I am making oatmeal.  It becomes apparent to me when I remove it from the microwave, that it is indeed, possible to mess it up by adding too little water.  Obviously, I don't eat it.  She has me wash and dry my bowl and spoon and put it away.  I'm starting to wander if I'm paying to actually clean this place up.

Physical therapy is next.  After our usual exercises I ask if I can try out a cane.  It just seemed so much better to me to use a cane as opposed to a walker.  She lets me.  Immediately, I realize I am most likely concentrating too hard not to fall.  Then she tells me she just doesn't think I am ready....I can't use the cane and carry on a conversation at the same time.  But at least I know and have a goal to work towards.  I can do baby steps for a while.

I have several people helping me out of the hospital.  I'm in a wheelchair, holding my flowers, balloons, bag of clothes and walker.  Lady is pushing me and dude is carrying my toilet.  I'm so proud. 

But waiting for me is Kat, with her conversion van that I teased her a lot about when she got it.  I distinctly remember saying to her, "Whose wheelchair are you going to be transporting?". 

Turns out, someday it may be mine....

Captivity....Day 4

I think we all know my morning routine by now.  Up at the crack of dawn, looking at some needles.  I feel as though I need to shake up my routine, so I order something different for breakfast.

Not a good move on my part.  Why, oh why, didn't I stick with the oatmeal?  Even if you don't add the right amount of water to the mix, can you really screw it up?  And the eggs were apparently from a powder.  The orange slice was pretty good though....

Got my daily infusion of Solu-Medrol.  Which to my brain, sounded a lot like Sodium Pentothal (truth serum).  Ahem, so because I was mistaken and blamed a lot of things I may or may not have said to you (who will remain nameless), um, I am super sorry about that.  I was using the excuse that for some reason I was getting at least a derivative of truth serum on everything I said.  Oh, and I was using the "hospital bed license", also.  Who is going to yell at someone in a hospital bed??

Again, the question begs to be asked....How do I solve any cases at work???

After my infusion, I take field trip to the physical and occupational department.  First thing I do is shuffle around the kitchen with my walker and make a cup o' tea.  The therapist didn't like that when I eat or drink something that is too hot, I just shoved it over to the side of my mouth that has no feeling.  Me, I thought that fell under the motto, "Adapt, Improvise, Overcome", but no, now I have to test everything I eat or drink with my finger.  Fine.

I did a little better on the physical therapy tests, and got my therapist to let me go home instead of a nursing home, on a couple of conditions:

• My doctor agrees
• I have someone stay with me for the first couple of days
• I stay on one floor

Um, sure, I can do that.  Not a problem

I go back to my room, chat with my doc, he says that's cool.  He felt that it would probably be mentally detrimental for me to go to a nursing home, so we can try home first.  Smart guy, my doc.  He will have someone come in and discuss a home nurse and physical therapist for a bit.  They are going to keep me one more day to get my infusion and work with the therapist.  Excellent....the end is near! 

Oh, and my spine looked good!

I get a special visit from Renee and Nancy.  And a burrito from Chipotle.  I have known these chicks for half my life, now.  Just being near them makes me happy.  It was a great visit.  Until, I was told that it was possible the University Hospital was not covered under City insurance anymore.  I really gotta start opening up my mail more often!!  (Turns out all is well, but the blood did drain from my face for a bit and I think I may have had a little panic attack.)

I barely recovered from that scare, when my - get this - CASE MANAGER comes in.  Case Manager??  Um, I didn't think I was going to end up needing a case manager at 38.  While I realize that there are plenty of different types of case managers, the only time I usually say those words is when I'm taking someone to the hospital because they want to hurt themselves.  "Have you talked to your case manager, lately?"  

She explains that I will be leaving tomorrow and will have 2 visits a week from both a nurse and physical therapist at my house.  Cool.  Then she says, "Do you know where you want us to order your medical equipment?".  "I'm sorry, did you say something....What medical equipment?"  She responds, "Your walker and bedside toilet."  I am sure at this point I am having some kind of psychotic break.  Since the only medical equipment I usually have to buy is band aids and Advil, how about you just pick a place for me.  K? Thanks.

These lovely things get delivered around 7PM.  I realize it's a little early, but could I go ahead and get my Ambien now.  I think I'd like to go to sleep.

Oh, and the toilet remains unused.  The walker has some time on it, though.

Captivity....Day 3 or "An Evening at the Races"

April 19, 2010

The morning started off the same as the last with one addition....Heparin!  Now I get to add a blood thinner to my menagerie of medicine, this one to prevent blood clots since all I'm doing is laying in bed.  Oh, and they give it to you in your belly. 

Now I'm really starting to question how old I am.  I am a fall risk, not allowed to get out of bed alone, getting shots of insulin and blood thinner.  Has anyone seen my bifocals??

This day really starts to take a down turn.  The physical therapist stops by and we do some walking up and down the hall, and some balance exercises.  Not quite sure how I felt as I was walking around, using a walker....but I didn't fall.  Let's think a little positive, shall we?  She tells me that I will also work with an occupational therapist, but in her opinion, I can't go home by myself.  She wants to send me to a skilled nursing facility.  And since I am too good to go to Drake, it looks like a nursing home.  I'm sorry, hmmmm??  There goes the positivity.

Apparently, I need my hair colored.

So, I wait a bit impatiently for the occupational therapist.  Her job is to see if I can do things on my own at home.  So we practiced taking my socks off and on, making my bed (why, I don't do this at home) and she made me brush my teeth.  She claims it's just part of evaluating if I can take care of myself, but I'm not convinced.  We make plans to work together the next day, but I'll be going down to their pretend apartment to wander around....with my walker.  Sigh....

About 5:30 in the afternoon, I am transported to the Morgue and Body Receiving, I mean, MRI.  The doc wants to take a little peaky-peak at my spine.  This is a bit worse than the brain MRI.  They put you way into the tube and it takes a lot longer.  Mine was probably just under 2 hours.  I tried to find a little happy place and decided to recite Psalm 23 ("The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want....").  I really wanted out of that tube!  But it definitely helped.

Now I am starving!  Even a terrible green bean wrap sounded ok.  I get back to my room and grab my menu, because room service is opened until 10PM!  Until I get their answering machine and it says that the hours are actually 10AM until 7PM.  Why is this the thing that pushes me over the edge?  Telling me I have a life long illness and that I may not be able to be a street cop doesn't make me cry.  Realizing I missed dinner and knowing I can't eat my chocolate because of my darn blood sugar makes me lose it!  I am mad!  I'm hungry, I'm in the hospital, still, and my immune system works so well, it has attacked my brain!  And, I'm hungry!!

During this time of wallowing in self-pity, I hear from my Hero (Ron) and Heroine (Alicia).  They are coming up to see me, did I need anything?  Now, I'm crying tears of joy!  Soup and a vanilla coke sound wonderful....screw the blood sugar, bring on the insulin!

After I inhaled my soup, we chatted for awhile.  My roommate probably got a little upset at how much I laughed, but it was so nice to see them.  When I mentioned that my eyes were a little wacky and that all my surroundings were moving, they set me up with a little entertainment before they left.  They put 2 of my mints side by side on my table, yelled "GO" and the race began!  It was a close race.  One would get a little bit in front of the other and then would fall behind.  This went on....and on....and on.  My plan was to eat the loser.

Turns out it was a tie.

Captivity....Day 2

April 18, 2010

It's Sunday.  The day of rest.  Which I got to do until about 6AM when they checked my temperature, blood pressure, oxygen level and stuck my finger for the blood sugar.  It's hard to fall asleep after all that and even if I did, the needle with Insulin is next.

My nurse stops in to say hello, I think.  She is the same one I had yesterday and I cannot understand a word she says.  I feel as if she is nice, because she smiles a lot.  I suppose she could be maniacal, instead.  But since my cup is usually 3/4ths full, I'll go with nice.

She hooks me up to my second infusion and I order my breakfast. Oatmeal again.  They give you a menu to pick your own meals.  And you can call whenever you want.  They call it room service.  I'm not too keen on the name.  Like I would actually forget where I am and really think it's something special.  "I'll have pancakes and a Valium, please."  They didn't think the request for a Valium was all that funny....

So, what do you do while in the hospital on a Sunday?  Wait for lunch!  And what a lunch it was!

Check it out! Tomato soup and a Tomato Mozzarella Panini from Panera. 

Thank you, Lisa!!  Now I really didn't taste it, but I know it was good.  I think

my taste buds have muscle memory.  And the company was superb!

The doctors visit me again.  They tell me 2 doses of the Solu-Medrol should have me feeling better, but I'm not feeling it yet.  That's ok.  I like to be difficult, so I probably need just one more dose.  They tell me I'm going to get a visit from a physical therapist in the morning.  Coolio.

Today was a smorgasbord of visitors, too!  I think I will sleep good tonight.

But, um, I'll take my Ambien just in case.

A Room with a View

I was supposed to be on the 4th floor, which is the neurology floor, but they had no place for me.  Instead I went to the 7th floor, comprehensive medical or something like that.  It also could be called my home away from work.

Behind this curtain was my roommate.  She lives in the Pendleton area of District 1 and she just so happened to recognize me.  It was nice to talk about the latest homicide that had taken place

just down the street from her house.  Oh, and how her nephew had been shot and killed not too long ago.  Now I just had to hope that I had not arrested anyone who came to see her....Sadly, she got very few visitors.  I kind of felt guilty for having so many.         

She saddened me.  Because of the lifestyle she had lived up to this point, she was told that she could not have a transplant that she needs to save her life.  Again, I realized that I was very fortunate to grow up the way I did.  But, it does come down to choices.  No matter where you are, you know the difference between right and wrong, a good choice and a bad choice.  Sometimes it takes courage to pick the right one, but you never know when the consequences are going to catch up to you.

 

The right side of my half of the room.  I really began to feel a little claustrophobic after a bit.

The view....and my IV.  I did get to watch a bit of excitement.  One afternoon there was a little fire somewhere and I could see some smoke.  Sad that I found that exciting, huh?

People are very nice when you are in the hospital.  They bring you things!  Here are some pretty flowers from Stephanie and Jen.  They also brought me some mints and mini Snickers.  Lisa gave me some cookies, magazines and chapstick (thank goodness!).  Unfortunately, all the sweets were hidden from me and replaced with Insulin when my blood sugar went up to 278.  It was probably the Solu-Medrol they were giving me to try to stop the inflammation in my brain, but I kind of think the Adriatico's Pizza Kat brought me Saturday night may have had something to do with it.

Captivity...Day 1

April 17, 2010

I finally got to my room around 6am.  I get in my gown, and thankfully, the nurse brings me jammie pants.  I love jammie pants.  I nap for a little while.  Around 9AM, they take me to get my MRI.  The trip in the wheelchair was a long one!  I was on the 7th floor and the MRI was way down in the basement.  Way, way down in the basement.  In fact, when the guy tells me we are almost there, we come to the end of the hallway and have to go either left or right.  Right is "MRI".  Left is "Morgue and Body Receiving".  I remember my eyes closing and thinking, "Please go right, please go right, please go....oh, thank God."

The MRI wasn't terrible....as long as you don't mind loud noises and feeling like you are in a little tube.  But, they gave me ear plugs and a blankie.  I just kept my eyes closed.  When I was finished, I was waiting in the hallway for transport to come.  I could tell the techs were looking at something.  I heard them say things like, "Wow", "Now that's a really clear picture" and "Oh, look at that."  So I deflated a little bit.

I clearly remember sitting in the hall, thinking to myself that "This is it.  There is something wrong and those people know what it is.  You can lose an arm or a leg, but it's really hard to replace your brain.  Is this really happening?".

It was about 9:50 when I get back to my room.  I order a scrumptious breakfast of oatmeal, brown sugar and raisins (seriously, it really was the tastiest thing they brought me!).

For the next 2 hours I sit in my bed.  I'm a fall risk, you know.  Can't get up to do anything on my own.  I also start to realize that there really is no hiding from whatever is messing with my brain.  Escape is out of the question, I can't walk a straight line and the whole world is spinning.  I would just break something.

11:30am....I meet my doctor.  He brings some residents with him.  They have me do some exercises, like following his finger and trying to touch it with mine.  Fail - I miss it everytime with my right hand.  He makes me follow a pen with my eyeballs (Hello, OVI test).  If you pulled me over, I would fail miserably.  No smooth pursuit, wacky nystagmus.  Then they ask me to walk down the hall.  It was hilarious.  As I got out of bed, I knocked a bunch of stuff over and couldn't stand up.  I had 3 residents following me with their hands out to catch me.  They didn't make me walk too long.

Then we get me back in bed.  I remember where everyone was and how Dr. Kanter said it, "So, what we have here is an inflamed Cerebellum.  It's what we see in MS."

Oh.

"Don't worry...It doesn't look too bad."

I complained the entire drive to the hospital.  It's what I do, even though I knew Mandy was right.  If I really was slurring my words and now that my lip was drooping, it was probably for the best.  I usually don't have to go to the hospital unless I'm taking a bad guy or checking on a shooting victim.  Well, there was that time I cut my cornea while driving, the time I had that weird allergic reaction, and of course, when that motorcycle guy ran the red light and totalled my cruiser.  Other than that, I usually don't go unless it involves a bad guy.  Regardless, the ER staff knows me. 

I get escorted to a lovely room, pee in a cup and get stuck a couple times.  Lots of doctors come in...I really don't think they know what to do with me.  The MRI people are already gone, so I end up in CAT Scan.  Quick and easy, no big deal. Until, they are wheeling me out and someone says, "Don't worry...It doesn't look too bad."  Not a phrase you want to hear when it's referencing your BRAIN!

I get back to my room and wait for my neurology consult.  The doc gets there and has me walk down the hall (I look like I am drunk).  My eyeballs are working against each other and jiggling around in my head.  I can't focus on anything.  So why am I surprised when they decide to keep me so I can have a MRI in the morning?  Because I am not bright, that's why.

He sits down and tells me what the plan is and what they are looking for.  Turns out its Multiple Sclerosis, cause I'm in that age group (really? thanks) oh, and all the symptoms that I am experiencing, too.  That is the second time I heard MS as a possibility.  I'm guessing that is probably what I have...

But, I shouldn't worry....after all, it doesn't look too bad.

"Um, I really just called to chat..."

April 16, 2010

It was Friday and kind of a big day.  Not necessarily a good kind of big day, but still a big day.  It was my partner, Mandy's last day in District 1.  I felt horrible because I had not been able to work with her during her last week.  We had so much fun together!  And we got in plenty of weird situations together.  One of our funniest and consistent runs was this pair of sisters who always played their music incredibly loud.  We were called there so many times I stopped counting.  The sisters got to know us so well that they gave us nicknames.  Mine was "Misery", as in Kathy Bates' Misery character.  Mandy, of course, was Jessica Alba.  The sisters constantly invited us into their apartment....in kind of an odd way.  Jess and Misery always turned them down. 

We also had TruTV riding with us for several weeks because we were one of the few that tested those Axon Cameras you wear on your head to get our point of view of what we do.  So, not only did they film us when we were on a run, but they recorded us the entire time we were in the car.  They got a lot of stuff for the blooper reel...an impromptu medley of the "Grease" soundtrack and a lively discussion that involved me yelling at Mandy to "Please try my iced tea!  I think it tastes weird!".  I finally wore her down and she gave in, only to tell me it tasted fine....Could that have been another clue???

Anyway, back to Friday night....I called Mandy just to talk a bit.  I knew she would be sad to be leaving District 1.  She asked me about my appointment and when my MRI was going to be.  When I told her Tuesday, she FLIPPED out!  "No! Tuesday is too long to wait."  "You are starting to slur your words!"  And finally, "I'm taking you to the hospital!"

When I could finally get a word in, I said, "Um, Mandy.  I really just called to chat."  Then I did it.  I asked her, "What if I don't come out of my house?".  Her response?  "Then I will sit outside with the lights and sirens on until someone complains."  Really?  Really....What choice did I have?

As I was getting ready and stumbling around my house, I did realize that I was dizzy constantly, as opposed to the little breaks in dizziness I had the day before.  And if I was slurring my words, I guess she was right.  But that didn't mean that I wasn't going to at least make her turn the lights on.

The Appointment

It's finally Thursday afternoon.  Kat drove me to the doctor.  Frankly, I didn't trust myself to do it.  Got in quickly, which was a luxury....I love my doctor, but sometimes you have to wait a long time.  I figure that they will take their time with me if they need to, so I don't really mind waiting.  This visit proved me right.

The doc did a little exam and really wasn't sure.  So she checked with another doc.  She also didn't know.  I should have realized this wouldn't be easy when the nurse told me I won the award for "Strange Symptoms of the Day".  Thanks....I think??

The list of what if's included inner ear infection, a weird virus, a brain tumor, and since I'm at that age (this is never a good phrase to hear), we had to think about MS.  Got some medicine and scheduled for a MRI/MRA....but not til the next Tuesday.  Well, that's OK, because the medicine she gave me for the dizziness is supposed to start working "immediately".  Excellent...I'll be back to walking a straight line in no time!

I'm not going to mention the other medicine she gave me.  It is for viruses and when I took it to the pharmacy, the super-duper senior pharmacy technician (who is also my sister, Bridget) called me a dirtball!  They need some customer service classes at that joint.

Since I found that I can taste spicy foods, Kat and I went to my favorite mexican place, lovingly referred to as "The Mexican Place".  It's been about 4 hours since my appointment and when I took my medicine.  I don't know about you, but my definition of 'immediately' is faster than 4 hours.  We checked with Bridget, who checked with her pharmacist, Joe.  Joe's definition, and most likely the definition of the medicine's manufacturer, is 15-20 minutes.   When Bridget told Joe I was still dizzy, his response was, "Really?  That's weird."   Oh, boy.

So, it was then, that I realized that whatever this was, it was probably not going to be good. 

Kat, I think you are buying me a turtle sundae from Graeter's.

Boy, I'm glad I have an appointment....

The next couple of days things slowly but steadily got worse.  Now I couldn't feel hot or cold on the right side of my mouth (which came in handy when I took a bite of something too hot...I just shoved it over on the right side and all was well).  Even water didn't taste right.  Or chocolate...What's happening???

The day of my doctor's appointment, I had to go to court.  I woke up a little dizzier, but there was no way to miss this case.  It was the murder trial of Mark Pickens (found guilty x 3, death penalty on all).  He was accused of killing his ex-girlfriend, her 9 month old baby and her friend's 3 year old.  My job was to explain to the jury what the scene looked like and what I did.  I will never forget it...I checked the victims for pulses and stayed with them until the coroner took them away.  I can replay that night over and over.  So, obviously, there was no way I was going to miss that trial.

As I walked into the employee entrance of the courthouse and turned the corner to sign in, the walls spun around on me and I fell down again.  Thoroughly embarrassed as I laid on the floor, I thought to myself, "Boy, I'm glad I have an appointment."  I gather myself up and head to the courtroom.  Now, my eyes are all jiggly and I am convinced I have a brain tumor.  I'm praying as I walk up to testify that I will not fall down in front of a packed house and every newstation around.  Thankfully, God listened.  I testified and boogied out of there. 

This appointment can't come fast enough.

"I've been having a little vertigo lately."

April 12, 2010

Today was my scheduled "Day 2" of inservice at the police academy.  Day 2 is supposedly the fun day, the tactical portion.  Frankly, for me, this always makes me nervous.  I have no problem doing any portion of my job out on the street, but when I have to pretend and act stuff out in front of my peers, well, it just stresses me out.

The first part of the day was sitting in classes, no big deal.  When we break for lunch, I decide to go back to the scene of the crime and eat at Penn Station.  I order the exact same meal I had on Saturday.  I'm just sure I will taste the drink and artichokes this time. 

Not so much....tongue is still numb, I'm a little wobbly on occasion still and the artichokes have no taste!  What else could go wrong today??  Oh, yeah...I still have to go shoot guns and tasers.  Back to the academy, I go.

My group first goes to the precision shooting stage.  No problem there, shoot targets with lasers and practice clearing rooms.  The group goes downstairs and the first thing we do is get our heart rate up by hitting some punching bags.  I'm diggin' it...I do enjoy hitting things.  Next I have to go to the shotgun portion.  As I grab the shotgun and begin to load it (fake ammo, everyone will be happy to know), I bend down to pick up a few of the shells.  When I stand up, the room completely spins around and I end upon my back.  Thankfully, one of the instructors grabbed the gun.  As I'm laying there, I think, "Well, this is new."  So I say outloud, "I've been having a little vertigo lately.  I guess I better go to the doctor."  Then I hear the Sgt say, "At least it happened here and not out on the street."  That's a scary thought.

My appointment is the 15th at 2:45PM.

Is this a clue??

It's my weekend off!  How wonderful!  I'm getting my hair cut and I'm going to do a little shopping.  So after the styling of my hair and the waxing of my brows, I stop to get a sandwich at Penn Station.  The thing is, I do this all the time.  Nothing should be weird about this.  I order my usual sandwich, Artichoke with mushrooms and tomatoes.  Love it!  I'm about finished and I notice that my drink doesn't taste right.  And the right side of my mouth feels funny.  And I can't feel the right side of my tongue.  Seriously, it's like someone drew a line down the middle and shot the right side full of novacaine.  Weird....

So I look at my sandwich to make sure there is nothing odd on it because my first thought is that I ate something I was allergic.  Which, now that I think about that, I have never been allergic to any food, would I really start now?  (How do I solve any cases at work...?)  What should I do now?

I went shopping.  I had several birthdays to celebrate the next day and I had to finish up some of the presents. 

Sunday came around and everything was pretty much the same.  Went to church, then to Tim's mom's to celebrate his birthday.  My head felt very strange.  I told Renee about the mouth thing and her answer vindicated me (for the moment, anyway).  She said, "What did you get into?".  See?  Renee thought the same thing and she is super smart....I can't be that crazy! 

We had lunch and apple pie.  I think it was very good, 'cause it usually is, but by this point, I'm not tasting anything, so what do I know?  What should I do?

How about round 2 of birthday celebrations?  Maybe cake will taste like something....So, off to my mom's to celebrate her birthday and my aunt Sissy's 93rd!  My sister, Laura, made the cake.  Strawberry!  This should be good!  And I'm sure it was....I just couldn't taste it.

Well, perhaps a good night's sleep is what I need.  Surely, I'll be better in the morning.

The Beginning

I think I started to notice a little something strange around Monday, April 5th.  It wasn't that big of a deal, but enough to get me to notice something wasn't quite right.  I would get just a little bit lightheaded every once in a while.  I honestly thought I had a sinus infection or something like that.  It kept going, but it wasn't enough for me to really worry about it, until.....

It was about 4:15 in the morning a few days after I started getting dizzy.  It was about time for Mandy (the other half of the fabled 1426) and I to finish our shift.  She had known I was feeling a little dizzy on occasion, but this was the first time I think she really noticed it.  We were walking into the district, I may have had a little trouble walking up the steps, I may have tilted to the left a bit and it's possible that I almost fell down.  Anyway...since I was off for the weekend, I assured her that I would be better by Monday.  After all, it's just a cold.  She believed me!  I think it's my sweet smile I threw out at her....

I kind of forgot about it after I took my very generous nap of 2 hours and headed downtown to court at 9AM.  Got done with court and went to lunch with Kat and her son.  Had another little episode, which prompted Kat to "square up" and tell me, "I think you better go to the doctor."  This was really the first time I actually thought about it....mainly because when Kat squares up, she means business, and frankly can be a little scary. 

So I went home and took a nap.

Argyle socks don't seem important enough....

I have always wanted to blog...but never really thought anyone wanted to hear what kind of socks I was going to be wearing for the day.  So I searched and searched for a great and interesting topic.  No luck for a long time....

And then one found me.  What I thought was just a little sinus infection or allergies making me dizzier than normal, turns out to be Multiple Sclerosis (MS).  I figure this is as good as anything to blog about.  And, really, who is going to complain?  Remember, I have a cane....and it may or may not have a sword hidden in it.

I'll get you caught up on what has happened since April 5th, and then will hopefully be able to do a daily log of what's going on....

Now that I think about it, I kind of wish I was just telling you what kind of socks I'm planning on wearing....be careful what you wish for!