I hate writing this. I really do. But I don't know when I will be back to posting mani's. It will be a few days at the least.
This morning marked my son's 2nd birthday. I did not spend the morning like we had planned, instead? I tried to die. Seriously. It wasn't pretty.
You all know my lungs have plaguing me lately. I've done everything I was supposed to do, yet they are getting worse. This morning they freaked out again, and I spent the morning with a slew of paramedics trying like hell to get me to be able to breathe enough to get me into the ambulance. I was so bad off that they were preparing to intubate me. When they got here (maybe 5 minutes after hubs called), I had what is called "Silent Chest". That's where so little air is being moved through the lungs that no sound can be heard. That's apparently the step right before I keel over unconscious. I can tell you that I was using every muscle I had to try to get air in and out of my lungs, but it wasn't working. At one point, I remember looking over at my terrified kids and thinking that I may not see them again. This attack escalated so quickly that it was shocking. I couldn't even speak enough to convey to my husband how much trouble I was in. Thankfully he decided to call an ambulance since I was obviously struggling and the ER kept warning me that driving myself there when this happens is not the best idea. I hated to do it, it's embarrassing (gawking neighbors and all), expensive (I hope to hell my insurance covers it), and I always feel like other people out there need that ambulance more than I do, but today? Man, they saved my ass.
So once they managed to get me into the ambulance, they immediately pumped me full of epi, since steroids weren't strong enough to do the job. Since they were so close to having to intubate, they didn't mess around. They pumped me full of the one drug that was going to bring me out of the attack as fast as possible. It still took a good 15 minutes to get me to where I could breathe without using my whole body to try and pull air, but it *did* work. Thank God. On the way to the hospital, I remember hearing the paramedics deciding if they were going to run me in as a Code or not, and overheard that they wanted to run me as a Code 1. I was an EMT way back when I was 19, so I know what they're talking about, and hearing yourself mentioned as a Code is terrifying. In the end, they ran me silent, since the EPI was working and I didn't need to be tubed.
Once at the hospital, it was steroids and more albuterol (paramedics had me on a neb the entire time), before finally getting me completely under control and sending me home. I see my doc Wednesday and meet with a Pulmonologist on the 24th. I'm okay, but man am I terrified that it's going to happen again. I don't have the words to convey just how terrified I was, and how horrible it is to not be able to breathe at all. I imagine it's kind of like drowning, except slower, and very painful. My whole body hurts from working so hard to try to remain breathing. At one point it hurt so badly that I just wanted to give up, but I'm a fighter, and so I pushed as hard as I could to keep fighting until the Paramedics got here and helped me. My left arm is still very sore from the shot of Epi..man, that stuff stings something fierce! But I'll take that over respiratory arrest. For the first time ever, I didn't flinch when they came at me with needles. I'm terrified of needles, it's ridiculous! Unless it's my choice to get poked with them, I freak out. Not today. I just went limp and let them poke me as much as they wanted.
I know this post is a bit scattered, but I'm really not feeling all that awesome. I just wanted to give you all a heads up since I know I won't post any mani's for at least a day or 2, and to tell you to hold your loved ones tight. You never know when something might happen.
I hope your day hasn't sucked as badly. I'm off to rest some more and contemplate buying some new lungs on the black market.
-Happy Breathing
-Kimber
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