Doctors, Doctors, Doctors...Life after P.E.

The past few weeks have been a roller coaster of emotions, combined with a lot of exhaustion.  I have seen so many doctors, and I am so tired of sitting in waiting areas...trying to find help with the kids so I can go to these appointments...and mostly re-telling my story and symptoms over and over again.

It is physically, emotionally, and spiritually draining!!

I first went to a post hospital check-up with my regular doctor.  Since the local hematologist had no answers for me as to why I had the P.E., it put my primary doctor on extra alert to try to help give me some answers.  During his exam, he noticed a couple of moles that looked very suspicious to him.  So, he decided to send me on to a dermatologist for a full skin check.  Basically, because cancer is one of the leading causes of unexplained pulmonary embolisms, so this definitely needed to be taken seriously and addressed quickly.

During that appointment he also decided to refer me to another hematologist for a second opinion, and also to a neurologist to better understand the myoclonic jerks that started after my P.E. and what we can do about them.

The dermatologist appointment was the one that was completely unexpected.  I didn't even want to consider that there was a possibility of cancer taking over my body to the point that it had already affected my blood without me even being aware of it.  Just the whole thought would crumple me in a ball, and leave me feeling like I needed to puke because I knew that if that WAS my answer to why I had the P.E., my life was about to get a LOT worse, and I just wasn't sure if I was prepared for the battle that would then ensue.

At that appointment, the dermatologist ended up taking 2 moles that showed strong signs for melanoma.  Not unexpected, but definitely not COMFORTING at all!!  And what was worse is that it was going to take 2 weeks before the lab results would be known.

Here are pics of the suspicious moles:

They went ahead and scheduled me to come back in 2 weeks later to go over my results, and that freaked me out even more because most people who had experience with mole removal said they were just called with the results, so WHY did I have an automatic appointment to review mine.  It took a lot to get through those two weeks because uncertainty sets my anxiety on overload, and sadly, I ended up BACK in the derm's office by the next week because one of my mole removal spots (the first pictured above) was not healing correctly and the pain just kept getting worse.

Here is a pretty gross picture of what that experience was like:

Evidently it was supposed to be pink and fleshy looking in the middle, and the other spot was, but this one was not and it was really painful and angry looking.  And it was aggravated even more by the fact that I am allergic to the adhesive from the band-aids, which just made for an even more miserable experience all around.

I am about a month out now, and though the other one has pretty well healed completely, this one is still not even close, and still just yuck.  Doesn't hurt as bad thankfully, but it is not pretty to look at, for sure.

Anyway, after that LONG 2 week wait, where I had completely prepared myself for the idea that at least one of them was going to come back positive for melanoma (because I'd rather believe the worst and hope for the best, than get knocked off my feet thinking everything was OK and then find out it wasn't), I finally got my results.

NO CANCER!!!  PRAISE THE LORD!!

The one that had trouble healing was actually completely fine, just had some fibrous tissue in it that made it look strange.  The other one (the dark, irregular shaped one) was a compound dysplastic nevus and that basically is a pre-cancerous spot.  It had not turned to cancer yet, but had a strong potential to and it did need to be removed.

I will go back for yearly skin checks now, and I am supposed to do monthly self checks to make sure no new moles are growing or old ones are changing.

Whew!  That was over!!

That same day, I went to the neurologist.  It was a decent appointment.  The best guess at this time is that I have postanoxic myoclonus and that's basically where your brain gets damaged due to lack of oxygen for a period of time.  It's considered common in people with pulmonary embolism, near drowning, or cardiac arrest.

It's curious in my case because I didn't have to be resuscitated or intubated, but without doing a ton of testing, this is the most likely explanation for now since they started directly after the P.E.  So, they are treating me with anti-seizure medication (levetiracetam/Keppra) for a few months to see if that improves them.  (Myoclonus is a form of seizure as well, but typically people with true myoclonic seizures get them in childhood, but they can be caused by brain injury.)

That med is actually helping quite a bit.  I still have some during each day, but it has slowed them way down, and I am able to sleep much easier now, thankfully, which is what I was really hoping for.

So, now marking cancer off my list (THANK YOU, JESUS) and getting my myoclonus treated, the next appointment was with another hematologist to hopefully help give me an idea of WHY the pulmonary embolism happened, and more importantly, how to keep it from happening again!

This appointment was sort of a nightmare.  For those who have never seen a hematologist (which is a blood doctor), they are usually both Oncologist and Hematologist.  And, of course, an oncologist is a doctor specialized to treat cancer.  So, going to a hematologist appointment is always intimidating for me because I have to share the waiting area with people who are going through all sorts of horrible and very scary things (not that my P.E. hasn't fit that same bill, obviously, it's just different), and it's just really humbling and overwhelming.  I can't help but feel blessed for my problems, but strangely guilty too all at the same time because it's not fair that these people have to go through whatever they are going through.

This appointment was at Vanderbilt Hospital, so that experience was just magnified that much more too.  The people coming here were numerous and obviously dealing with a very wide variety of horrible cancerous conditions.  And there I sat right in the middle of them, unable to ignore the magnitude of the problems these people are truly facing, and crumbling under my compassion for what these people must be really going through.  It's truly heartbreaking.

They told me to get there an hour before my appointment time because it would take that long to get registered.  And then told me to expect to be there for about 2-3 hours total, not knowing that every bit of that would be JUST WAITING to see a doctor.

My appointment was schedule for 12:00, so I had to be there at 11:00.  Not enough time to have lunch before going in.  And then I didn't even see the doctor until 2 p.m.  I had a headache starting the day out, but by the time he finally came in the room, I was in full blown migraine mode, and was so sick that I felt like I needed to puke.

I only really had one question for this doctor..."Why/how did this pulmonary embolism happen?"

My body has been strange for years, and I will tell you, I have had this weird feeling in my gut for a long time that I was going to die young.  It's just something that has been in the back of my mind for a long while that I just can't seem to shake, mainly because I have been through so many STRANGE, UNEXPLAINED, and SCARY events.  I've searched for answers many times, but I keep coming up empty.

The doctors tend to get focused on just one symptom going on with me, ignoring the big picture and how I have multi-system, unexplained dysfunction going on.

And the worst about it is that a lot of times it makes me feel like I'm crazy and that it's all just in my head.  Though, I know logically, these things and events are real and have happened!  It's just hard when you keep having weird stuff happen to you, and your doctors really just have no idea or any answers to offer at all.  It's helpless and lonely.

My current suspicion is that I have some auto-immune disorder, like possibly Lupus, that just has not been detected yet.  Honestly, I don't really care what answer or "label" they give me, I just need to know WHAT it is, so that I know HOW to treat it and prepare myself appropriately.

Sadly, by the time the doctor came in, within just seconds of him starting to talk, it was clear that he was not going to be able to (or even interested in) helping answer my biggest question.  He reminded me that for the majority of blood clots, there is usually no known cause (called unprovoked pulmonary embolism), and it just sort of happens in a "perfect storm" scenario.  But, we can't even explain what my "perfect storm" really was.

He was willing to reevaluate the need for continuing with blood thinners after 6 months, but wants me to see a cardiologist for testing first.  He said ultimately the decision would be left to me depending on what risks was I more willing to live with...risk of clotting again by coming off of the meds or risk of severe bleeds for being left on the meds.  And with someone with history of BOTH of these scary events, HOW am I supposed to make a decision like that?!

And he said that it just depended on what my "goal" was.  If my "goal" was never to clot again, then I should stay on the blood thinners.

Since my head was splitting in two at that moment, I couldn't even think through half a thought in that room.  However, as I've thought about those words since, I know what my "GOAL" is now though, and I'm not sure why this might seem strange or unreasonable, and really it should have been pretty obvious to any doctor.

My GOAL is to be HEALTHY and hopefully be able to live long enough to see my children grow up.  That's my goal.  Whatever has the best possibility of getting me THERE!!

He said, "You seem to be having a hard time accepting that there just really isn't an answer to give for this sort of thing, and I don't know how to help you with that."

And he's right, I DO HAVE a hard time accepting that, since this is MY LIFE we are talking about and it's ME that has to live with the consequences of what happens because of whatever is going on within me and the choices we make on handling it.  And I really don't think that's unreasonable!!

My life has been changed significantly because of this, and I just don't know what the best thing to do is.  I'm tired of chasing rabbits.  I'm tired of doctor appointments and dead ends.  I'm tired of being only 35 and what should be the prime of my life, and feeling like I'm dealing with things that I shouldn't even have to think about for at least 30 more years.  Not even feeling comfortable planning for the future at all, because I don't really feel like I'm even going to be here for it.  I know we all have to remember and be prepared for the fact that none of us are promised tomorrow, but I just feel like my chances are much higher than average right now that my tomorrows really are greatly, greatly limited.

I feel like it is seriously going to take me dying in order to be taken seriously by these doctors, because obviously ALMOST dying isn't enough.  And I wish that even if I couldn't get an answer to help improve my own health, I could at least get some answers for my children so THEY won't have to go through all of the crazy and scary things I have had to too.

So, yeah, a lot of this post isn't really cheerful, I know.  I'm sorry.  I'm just tired and confused and I'm on day 2 of a monster of a headache, but I'm still trying to push forward no matter, and just live each day the best that I can.

The one thing that keeps me sane and strong through all of this though, is that I know that God is in control.  If I didn't have that, I would be a real mess.  I obviously can't put my faith in the medical community because they are just human...just like me, and with that comes obvious limitations.  But, Jesus...the Creator of the universe...can be trusted.  He knows exactly what is going on with me, and He is with me every step of this.  He knows my tendencies, He knows my fears, He knows what I need, and He knows what my kids need.  No matter what happens in my life, I have been assured that He is working it for my good (Romans 8:28).  So, I don't have to fear tomorrow, because He has given me the ultimate Hope and promise of His eternal love (John 3:16-17)!!

Thank you, Lord, for just continuing to be with me through it all.  I know You are good, You are faithful, and You can be trusted.  Please sustain my strength and faith in my moments of weakness and fear.  Let me feel Your presence with me always, and help lead me in the paths that You need me to go and equip me to do the work that You have called for me to do.  I thank You, and praise You always!!  In Jesus precious name, I pray. AMEN!!

I also thought I would share some of the CT pics here from the night I was admitted in the hospital for the pulmonary embolism.  The actual scan had 100s of pics on it, because a CT is a slice-by-slice image of the body.  So, these were a few that really stood out to me:

Life after Pulmonary Embolism (PE)

In the days that followed my diagnosis, I scoured the internet to find out what did this news mean for me?  It was clear that for many people (1 out of every 3), PE meant death (and for 1 in every 4 INSTANT death!), but what about the other 2/3's.  Did life resume as normal?  How serious was this diagnosis if you actually survived long enough to get the diagnosis?

Since this was something that was of great interest to me, I want to do my part too by sharing my story for others that may need it as well.  I am nearing the month point from when my PE actually hit (3/22/15).

I'll start with my release from the hospital.  They let me out after 6 long days, and I was SOOOO ready to go.  To be released, I had to prove that I could keep my oxygen SATS up above 90 (because they had been dropping into the 80s every time I would get up), and my heart was still racing to the 130s and 150s too.  They expected time and rest to help resolve these issues the most.

When they released me, I was still having to take the Lovenox shots for the rest of that week (5 more days at home).  So, I got the fun experience of giving myself shots in my belly TWICE a day for each of those days.

The idea really freaked me out.  I wasn't sure if I would be able to really do it, so I told my husband to be prepared to give them to me if I couldn't.  He had his own experience with this sort of thing, because after his stroke and diagnosis of diabetes, he had to give himself insulin shots for a while.

I was brave, and was able to give them to myself though.  The needle itself did not hurt, but the medicine did.  It wasn't even immediate pain.  It took about a minute for it really kick in, and then it was doubling me over.  I HATED those shots!!  In the hospital and out!!  Thankfully, I found a spot on my belly that didn't seem to hurt as bad, and I tried to stay close to that.

At the same time as taking the Lovenox shots, I had to take oral meds too.  We chose Xarelto over the Coumadin because it kept me from having to have the weekly blood draws.  Unfortunately, Xarelto is a lot more expensive though, but with our insurance we still thought it was manageable for us to pay $45 a month for that medicine and NOT have to go to the doc weekly for the blood draws, than to cheap out, and still need to watch my INR levels so closely.

The other thing with Coumadin is that you have to watch what you eat too, because Vitamin K can throw your levels off.  The things that I would have to refrain from happen to be some of my favorite foods!  Broccoli, cabbage, turnip greens, spinach....ALL THE GREEN VEGGIES!!  :(  However, with Xarelto, you don't have those same restrictions.

The pills aren't bad; they are small.  And honestly, I can't tell any side effects from them at all, other than bleeding a little more from the tiniest cuts, of course.

Because I am on blood thinners now, the doctors told me that I needed to be wearing a medical alert bracelet, so I had my mom make me a beautiful one.  She has her own jewelry making business, and is so very talented in coming up with beautiful and personally created designs.  (You can check her out at Tazzy's Lanyards and More if you are interested.)

 

Once I got re-settled at home, it was time for lots of doctor appointments to begin.  The first one was with the hematologist.  They had run several blood tests for the most common clotting disorders while I was still in the hospital, and he seemed certain one of them was going to come back positive.  However, none did.

Everyone seems perplexed over this because I have no risks factors for this to have happened to me.  No family history, don't smoke, not overweight, had not been on any long trips, and most shockingly to me--the surgery that I had (septoplasty) was NOT one that should have caused this to happen.  Typically they come from surgeries to the legs or abdomen.

My legs were scanned while I was still in the hospital, and they came out clear.  I had no leg pain or signs at all to believe that I had developed any DVTs prior to the PE.  I didn't just lay around after my surgery, and the surgery itself was a day surgery, so I was out and back home pretty quickly.

So, with all of that, the hematologist just said that I have a case of "unprovoked pulmonary embolism", to which he said that given my age and history, his recommendation is for me to stay on the blood thinners indefinitely...unless and until I do get an answer.

He ran a few more blood tests, but didn't expect them to come back with anything because I didn't have symptoms of those disorders either.

The hardest part of that visit (besides not getting any answers), was that he gave me a copy of my CT Scan report, and reading the findings in writing made it all so real how serious this really was.

 

"Mulitple.  Bilateral.  Several.  Large.  Arteries completely or nearly filled by the emboli."

It was sobering to say the least.

I've since had a visit with the ENT that did my nose surgery, and also my family doctor.  My PCP has referred me off to even more specialists now too.  I will be getting a second opinion from a hematologist through Vanderbilt.  I have to see a neurologist because I've been having bad myoclonic jerks every night since the PE hit, and we need to make sure it's not seizures, and figure out the best way to treat them so that I can get some sleep.  And then to add insult to injury, my PCP found a couple of suspicious looking moles on me during his exam, and he wants me to get seen next week by a dermatologist to rule out skin cancer!

Oh my!  I was a mess after that appointment.  So much, so fast and I was barely able to handle all that I already was dealing with.  I really can't tell you how many times now that I sit and think, "I can't believe this really happened!"

Every time I gave myself a shot or took my pills..."I can't believe this really happened."

Every time I was short of breathe and could feel the heaviness in my chest again..."I can't believe this really happened."

Every time I lay down to sleep and my body starts jerking together every couple of minutes for an hour or more as I try to fall asleep making it REALLY hard to actually fall asleep...."I can't BELIEVE this REALLY happened."

And then, just every time I go to another doctor appointment and have to re-tell the story, it just hits me all over again!

The day I went in to my family doctor for the first time since my diagnosis was very emotional.  The last time I had went in was pretty scary for me.  I went in thinking I had asthma or bronchitis or something like that, and I was immediately sent to the hospital with a full fledged life-threatening emergency.

My anxiety was through the roof, and my BP and heartrate proved it.  The nurse though was so happy to see me.  She said that they had checked on me daily while I was at the hospital because they were so worried for me.  She said that they KNEW when they were sending me over to the ER that it was PE, but I just really had NO IDEA at all.  My DENIAL was STRONG!!  :)

I think the hardest part about life after PE is just how little people really know about it.  I myself had BARELY even heard of it before, and really didn't know anything.  I knew that it was potentially fatal, but I didn't even understand fully what it even was.

What's hard is that so many people (myself included) don't realize how LONG a recovery from PE really is.  Since the blood thinners really aren't doing anything to the clots that you already have, they are just preventing new one from forming; you are still left with a lot of the same symptoms that forced you to seek treatment to begin with, like the shortness of breath, chest pain and heaviness, rapid heartrate and low oxygen SATs, and for me these nightly jerks too....as well as a new HUGE ANXIETY over ever clotting again.

With time, the body does re-absorb these clots, and the symptoms will get better, but depending on how much damage was done during the PE, some symptoms may be permanent.

The other thing that I have found hard is how many people comment to me that I "don't look sick".  :)

I know that it's meant as a compliment, but it leaves me feeling strange, because I don't know what I'm "supposed" to look like.  And it also makes me feel like people may think that because I "don't look sick" that I should be able to do a lot more than I really am able to right now.

I have severe social anxiety anyway, so I'm constantly concerned with what other people think of me (even though I know that I shouldn't be).  So to have the extra attention this brings makes me extremely self-conscious right now.  I am sure that most people aren't thinking anything negative at all, and are not really even paying attention to what I am or am not doing, but these thoughts are still hard for me to handle some days because I feel like I'm not living up to expectations or something.  LOL

As far as what I can do, I'm able to do anything really, but my stamina is what is hit the hardest.  I can walk just fine, but if I walk too far or too fast, I get very winded and my heart starts racing.  I can do the laundry or sweep floors, but I have to sit down very often.  I have been using a chair in the kitchen when I have cooked so I can sit in-between stirring.

I allowed myself to just rest the first week home, but starting with the second week, I gave myself weekly goals of what I wanted to accomplish.  The first goal I had was that I needed to get back into the schooling since my children are homeschooled.  So, that was my only focus that week.  Then the next week, I added in a few loads of laundry.  And I will continue with this plan, pushing myself slowly, but a little more each week, until I get mostly back to my regular routine.

I also take a nap every day from about 1-3, and then I'm usually ready to go to bed by 9 p.m. every night.  So, basically for now, I'm just resting as much as I can, and not requiring more of myself than absolutely necessary.

Every day I feel a little better, a little stronger, and a little braver.  So, I feel like with time I really will get through this.  God has continued to be my strength through every single bit of this, and I truly do NOT know how I would have managed without it.

I see life and death so much differently right now too.  I'm less scared of death, honestly, because I came to truly realize that I have absolutely NO CONTROL over it.  It is a certainty for all of us, and even if I missed it this go round, it does not mean that I am exempt forever.  One day, I will die, and I have to be ready for it no matter when it may come.  And going through this experience, really made me have to FACE head-on how ready and how confident I REALLY WAS with my eternity.  My faith has only gotten stronger, and I am so very thankful for the peace and assurance that only comes from trusting God.  And I sure hope that anyone who reads this has that same peace as well.

As I continue this journey, I am sure I will write more, but I think this is enough for today.  :)


Here are some other pictures through my PE experience and recovery:

This girl was 2 days post PE, and didn't even know it yet.

The ER was so busy the night I went in that they had to put me in a pediatric room.  :)

At the hospital, and truly just happy to be alive.

A special homecoming snuggle!!

The face of a Pulmonary Embolism Survivor!


I heard this song playing while I was in the hospital and it stopped me in my tracks, I felt every single word came right out of my own heart.  <3

The night I could have died...

Boy, has this been quite a memorable week for my family.  My family has BEEN through stuff.  I have two kids who were hospitalized a week each with asthma issues, and my husband had a stroke at 30 years old.  Yes, some big, scary moments!!  Ones I would not wish on any other person!!

Well, this week was centered around me.

A week ago today, Sunday, March 22, 2015, I had a pulmonary embolism...and I'm still here to tell about it.  Praise the Lord for His mercy.


How in the world does a fairly healthy 35 year old stay-at-home mom end up in such a life-threatening situation?

The answers are still lingering.  One thing we know, is that I had had nasal surgery (septoplasty and turbinate reduction) five days before.  I was doing well through it though.  I still had nose splints in, and could not breathe at all through my nose, but I was doing well for the point I was post surgery.

In fact, that day I felt well enough that I decided to go to church.  It was my first outing since the surgery.  I was still easily exhausted, but I really did feel like I was on the downhill swing from this thing.  That I had conquered the worst, and made it through.

You just don't know, what you just don't know though.

That night I went to bed, was still sleeping reclined as I had been instructed.  It took me a long time to fall asleep, as usual, but at some point, I obviously had.  Because in an INSTANT, I was jolted wide awake because my lungs had just completely stopped.

I sat up trying to gasp, breathe, anything, and I wasn't able to get any air at all.  It was like someone had taken plastic wrap and covered my airway.  Also, at the very moment I was jolted, I remember this very distinct sound and feeling of "whoosh" that went with it, that was part of what jolted me alert.

After several seconds (that seemed much longer), I finally got a cough to come out, and then coughed like crazy trying to catch my breathe.  The adrenaline was definitely pumping, and my brain was on overdrive trying to decide "WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO ME?!"

I sat there with my heart beating out of my chest for a few minutes, and took a drink and decided I must have choked on my saliva or something.  I mean, I even wondered if a fly had flown in my mouth since I was mouth breathing so much.  LOL  I had no idea what to think about it.

I took a drink to wet my throat, and then I laid back down to sleep.  When we got up that morning, I told my husband that I thought I had had a sleep apnea episode that night.  I sort of laughed about it, and said, "Yeah, I don't know.  I just stopped breathing for a second, and it took me a minute to catch my breathe.  I'm surprised I didn't wake you."

I didn't think anything more of it, honestly.  It was scary, but it was over quickly, and I did catch my breathe, so all was OK...so I thought.

However, the next morning, I realized that I had a heaviness in my chest, almost like when a chest cold sets in overnight.  I just thought, "Uggggghhhhh!!!  I feel bad" but never related it to the event the night before.  I realized that day too that I was having trouble breathing, but if I was setting up a chest cold, then that would make sense.

Since I already had a post-op appointment for the next day with a doctor, I just decided that if was still feeling bad tomorrow, I would bring it up to him, and see if it's something to worry about.  Well, the next day, I was still feeling bad.  I was having real trouble doing anything, really.  I was getting completely out-of-breathe just walking across the floor.  It was strange.  I didn't know what was going on.

So, at the doctor's appointment, I brought it up.  I said that I had this weird heaviness in my chest, and was having some trouble breathing.

He told me that it was common to get drainage with the type of surgery I had, and that he thought I'd be feeling a lot better when he took the nose splints out.  So, without doing any type of physical exam of me by checking my vitals or anything, he pulled out the splints, and then said, "See you in a month."

So, I thought then that if he wasn't concerned, then I guess I shouldn't be.  My husband, however, was EXTREMELY concerned.  He wanted to take me to the E.R. right then because he said I was pale as a ghost.  I'm a white-white-white girl though, so pale as a ghost is kind of my thing.  :)

I said I wanted to see how I did with the splints out.  See if it really did help.  The next day though, I was still feeling just as bad.  I had a counseling appointment that afternoon, and the walk it took me from the parking lot, up some stairs, to her office, had me so breathless that it took me a good five minutes to catch my breathe.  She looked concerned for me, saying, "Breathe...just breathe!  Calm down and breathe."

And I told her, "I'm trying, I've just been having some difficulties these last few days.  I just had surgery, and I think I'm setting up something in my lungs."

I knew then that I needed to really see a doc for answers.  That was definitely not normal.  It was past office hours by the time I got home that day, so I decided to just wait and call first thing in the morning to our family doctor.  They had caught wheezing issues with me before, so I felt confident they could help me out.

First thing the next morning, Thursday, March 26, 2015, I called our family doctor.  They couldn't get me in until 3:30 p.m., but I took it because I knew I really needed to be seen.  I also decided that day to take my kids to the park for lunch because I felt bad that for the past two weeks I had been feeling so bad with my recovery, we hadn't done anything.  It was a beautiful day, and I wanted them to get to do something fun.  It was tough on me, but I just sat on a bench and watched while they played.  I didn't stay long, and was exhausted by the time I got home.

My appointment time finally arrived, and off I went to the doctor with my 6 and 4 year olds in tow.  It was a long wait at the office that day, and I had to wait 45 minutes in the waiting room before even being called back.  The nurse was taking my vitals, and asked me what I was coming in for.  I said that I had recently had surgery, and that I was having some chest heaviness with some breathing troubles.  I told her I thought it might be an asthma attack or something like that.  The next thing she stares hard at me, and said, "Do you normally have high blood pressure?!"

I told her that I didn't, and then her whole facial countenance changed to a very, very concerned look.  I didn't know what to think.  It wasn't long before I had two doctors come in the room listening to my lungs, and they said, "It sounds tight, but we don't hear any wheezes or crackles."

Then they dropped the bomb.  My BP had ran 160/90 that day.  My oxygen was at 93%, and my pulse was racing in the 150's.  The doc told me I needed to go directly to the ER because I was showing all the signs and symptoms of a pulmonary embolism.  She said, "I'm not saying that's what it is, but if it is, that's a very serious condition, and we really need to get it ruled out quickly.  The quickest way is to be checked out through the ER."

So, off to the ER I went.  My husband met me at the hospital to take the kids to our neighbor, and then I went on in to wait to be seen there.  They were very busy there that night too, so I had a long wait even for that.  There was a big, red sign on the front desk that said, "If you are having chest pains and difficulty breathing, you need to let us know immediately."

I did tell them that, but it didn't change how long I waited.  I think they looked at me, and thought here is a young 30 year old woman, probably just trolling the ER for drugs.  It happens so much that those of us who are NOT like that, are still treated with the same stigma.

After having a few tests,(EKG, chest x-ray, and blood tests) the doc said that my blood test (D-Dimer) had indicated probability of a clot.  So, it was then that I had to have a CT Scan of my chest done (with and without iodine).  I was scared now.  This was obviously not just a normal congestion, bronchitis, pneumonia, or asthma issue.  This was that "worst case moment" coming to life.

As I lay on the CT table being scanned, Jesus and I had a long talk.  I grabbed hold of His hand right then and there, and knew I had no choice but to completely trust Him in however this would turn out.  I knew something was wrong with me.  I needed an answer, even if it was a hard answer.

I put complete trust that if God had decided that my time was up, that He had an even better plan for my kids than anything that I myself could give for them with me here.  I didn't want to leave them, but I accepted peace in that moment over my own life and death, and over their lives.

I did shed a few small tears in that moment from fear, but overall, God kept me AMAZINGLY strong through it.  He was there for me, no question about it.

It wasn't long before a doctor came in and let me know that the scan had come back positive for clots in my lungs (multiple clots in both lungs), and that I was definitely going to be admitted, and started on blood thinners right away.  I actually got my first dose, right there in the E.R.

I've been learning all I can these days that I've spent in the hospital, trying to prepare myself for what life is like post-pulmonary embolism.  I'm feeling tons of emotions.

The first night was when I had realized that that strange moment on Sunday night was the actual moment this all happened, and I replayed it a thousand times over with more and more realization every time.

The one comfort I can bring from it, is that, if I had died that night, I believe it would have truly been quick and painless.  It came upon me so fast, I didn't have time to be afraid.  The fear didn't set in until I got my breathe back.  And I was not in any pain whatsoever, I just couldn't breathe.  So, that's comforting.

Then I think about it from the perspective of my family, and it becomes horribly terrifying for them.  My husband didn't wake up from all of the coughing and hacking I did when I did catch my breathe, so if I hadn't caught my breathe, I doubt he would have woken then either.  So, to him I would have unexplainably just died in my sleep.  That's horrible for him.  He wouldn't have had a clue what happened.  I was fine, and then I wasn't.  No warning AT ALL!!

The other thought that gets to me is that the way most mornings work is that at the very crack of dawn my 4 year old daughter comes and crawls in bed with me.  That morning would not have been any different, and so she would likely have been the first to discover that something was wrong with me.  I doubt she would have understood, but she would have been very frustrated with me, and the scene would have been really dramatic and horrible as it continued to unfold.

For some reason though, that's not how the night went, and God showed great mercy to me, I suppose because He still has big plans for me to accomplish.  My work is not done.  So, now I need to get busy for God.  I need to make good of this gift He has given me.

While I'm in the hospital, my kids are spread out between relatives having the time of their lives.  They don't know the scary stuff that's all happened.  They just know that Mom is sick and in the hospital.  But, as I said, we've been down this road as a family before, so it was old hat to them.

As I was looking at this picture today of my little two watching a movie, and having fun with their cousins, I looked at their eyes and their happy faces, and just thought, "Wow,  This week could have been very, very different for them."

Just praise God they didn't have to go through that.  My life will end when God decides, and I am prepared any day that it may be.  I have peace in my heart over my eternity.  So, I'm not afraid to die at all.  I'm afraid of PAIN, but I'm not afraid of death.  However, I obviously really do not want to burden my family with that type of trauma and grief to have to carry for the rest of their lives.  But, I do still have peace that IF it is decided that my time is done, God is going to take care of my family and help see them through.

He is good.  He is faithful.  And I trust Him with my life and with my death.  AMEN!