This blog has, for almost twenty years now, promised Wild and Absolutely True. Well, buckle up, buttercup. I have a story to tell.
I got off to a fantastic start with my New Year goal of running--so great, that I was really happy to get up last Monday (the 8th, my first day back at work from Winter Break) and run at 5:30. Okay, not "really" happy. Moderately happy. If-I-have-to happy. After all, it was 5:30 and it was also 30 degrees outside, a rare dip below freezing for us here in the greater Sacramento Valley.
But I did it! I put on a hoodie, a headband that covered my years, and gloves, and I went out and ran for 30 minutes in 30 degrees. I came home and promptly bragged about it on social media, because that's what we do, right?
That's right! So I posted that chipper picture to the left there, and set off to warm myself up in a nice, hot shower. (Remember this.)
That shower felt great. Really great. I warmed up my cold little self, got out, and set about making breakfast--my usual, yogurt with some Kashi Cinnamon Harvest on top. I made my knock-off Starbucks cold brew drink, and settled on the couch to read some emails and eat.
Then the troubles began. A few bites in, my stomach started to protest a little. "Ugh. I don't wanna eat." I waited a moment, things settled, and I ate some more. I got a bit more than halfway through my meal when I started feeling like I might throw up. Concerned, I got up and walked into my 2nd bathroom (nearest the couch), where I hovered over the sink.
I could feel bile rising a little, but not coming all the way up. I coughed to try to move it.
.
.
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And then I woke up. My first thought was, "Ugh, is it time to go back to work already?! I want a bit more sleep!" But then I realized that my body was hurting, especially my head. I opened my eyes and saw some clothes I had hung to dry on the shower rod in that 2nd bathroom. I realized I was on the cold, hard floor, sweating profusely, and my head was not feeling great.
I sat up, swaying from dizziness. I felt the back of my head and my hand came away wet. It took a few seconds to realize that was not water.
As I gathered my thoughts, I realized I had fainted, that my head was bleeding, and that this was not normal. I had never fainted in my life.
Next to me was the drawer I keep cleaning rags in, so I grabbed a clean rag and pressed it to my head. Fortunately, the bleeding wasn't heavy, and every time I dabbed, there was less blood coming away, so that meant it was stopping pretty fast. I got up and gingerly walked to the living room. At this point, I was completely confused. Why did I faint? What is wrong? Do I go to work? Of course not. But what now?
I called Dad. I didn't want to alarm him, but I also knew I needed his help. He immediately got in his car and started driving over. After that, I called my vice principal, Chrystal, to let her know I wouldn't be in. She was driving to work, and she was very concerned for me. "Don't you worry about putting it in Frontline. I've got you. Please keep us all posted!" Then I called the Kaiser Advice Nurse number. The nurse was as baffled as I was--what next? She put me on hold to talk to the doctor on duty, and came back just as my Dad was letting himself in the front door to tell me the doctor recommended the Emergency Room.
So Dad and I set off to the Roseville Kaiser ER. Again, I hated worrying him, but I'm so grateful I had him to drive me.
I checked in at something like 8:00, 8:15. I had fainted at around 6:45-6:55, the last time I remember seeing on my phone is 6:45, before I felt like I might throw up. My head was no longer bleeding, but I had blood drying in my hair, creating a sticky, matted mess on one side. The ER was quiet at that point...a lull in the usual chaos.
When I checked in, I was immediately taken for an EKG, and then back to intake to have my vitals taken. My blood pressure was super-high, but no one was surprised at that.
The RN at intake deemed me a fall risk and put me in a wheelchair. I got the yellow bracelet and everything.
I was wheeled back to wait for my initial visit with a doctor. It didn't take long. After about 15 minutes in a hallway, a doctor came and sat next to me, and the whole process really got rolling. The good news off the top--I didn't have symptoms of a concussion or a brain bleed, but she wanted to do a CT scan on my head as a precaution. I was fine with this. She would also need to do blood tests, a urinalysis, and a chest X-ray. They also swabbed my nose to test for COVID, flu, and RSV. Also, I wouldn't need stitches, as my head had only a tiny cut, and it had stopped bleeding on its own.
"Be prepared to be here about four hours..." she warned me.
I texted Dad to let him know he should go home and come back later. The poor man had skipped breakfast and showering to come help me. I wasn't about to make him sit in the waiting room that long, and besides, I was in good hands.
Here's where I start tallying all of my "good ideas" of the day. The first was having Dad drive me to the hospital. Driving myself was out of the question, and an ambulance would have been overkill. I have local friends who would happily help me if need be, but they work, and Dad doesn't. The second good idea was grabbing a mask before I left.
I waited in that hallway for a bit more. Another nurse came by and put an IV port in my arm, drew blood, and swabbed my nose. Then he wheeled me out to the waiting area, where I stayed about 15 minutes, before another nurse came to my now-open bed. Here's where Good Idea #3 comes into play. Before I left for the hospital, I grabbed that mask, and a book. God, I was so happy to have that book. (Good book, too--The Spectacular by Fiona Davis.)
By the time I landed in my bed in the corridor, I had had blood drawn and the nasal swab. Next up was the CT scan on my head. My new RN in charge, a very nice guy whose name has now escaped me, helped me back into my wheel chair and took me to Radiology. The scan was uneventful, and I was wheeled back to my home-away-from home to read some more.
Thing is, as all of these tests were processed, I kept getting emails, and then logging into the Kaiser app on my phone to see what they said.
Happily, the tests for COVID, RSV, and flu all came back negative. My blood draw showed everything in normal range, except for one thing--my d-dimer score. It was 0.62, and normal is >0.50.
What the hell is d-dimer? Well, under that in the test results were the words "pulmonary embolism." Say what?
I did some googling, realized I was just going to have to let all of this be in the hands of the universe, and went back to my book. I had my chest X-rays. It was at this where the tech (a woman) apologized and told me I'd have to remove my bra. I did, and when we finished she asked if I wanted to put it back on.
"Oh, you know, I'm sitting here with blood matted in my hair, so who cares if I go braless at this point?"
We both laughed, I kept it off, and I was wheeled back to my little plot of property in the ER. My RN in charge took my vitals--blood pressure better but still a bit high for anyone's liking--and then left me to my devices. I asked for water, and was allowed some ice chips.
At this point, I'd had about a 300-calorie breakfast, and by now I would have had my morning snack and be cruising towards lunch. But I missed snack. And lunch.
It was about this time of day that I texted Sarah. I had started to a couple times before that but I didn't want to freak her out before I knew a bit more about my condition. My best advice is to find yourself a friend who is willing to look at pics of your blood-matted hair, and also ready to storm the local emergency room to make you happy and comfortable.
"I'm so hungry."
"Want me to bring some food to you?!? Will they let me?"
"If I don't reply, I'm just saving my phone battery."
"Can I bring you a charger?!"
Bless her and her I'll-storm-the-ER-for-you heart. 💟
And, of course, Dad checked in from time to time. 💗
Sarah started googling d-dimer and pulmonary embolism and we speculated a bit but decided that if I did have a clot on my lung, at least I'm in the best possible place to deal with it.
Finally, my awesome doctor from earlier came by. She had seen all my test results and she wanted a CT scan of my chest.
"You see, your--"
"The d-dimer?"
"You've been reading your test results!"
"I have the Kaiser app, so yeah."
"Have you googled all the ways in which you're dying?"
"Nah, I held off on that. But I assume that's why you want the CT scan for my chest."
"That's exactly why. Here's the thing--the d-dimer test is very imperfect, and it can be affected by other things. Your score is very low to be of concern, but I would rather have a look and make sure, instead of send you home not knowing."
"And I'm perfectly fine with that!"
So the predicted four hours turned into more time, because there was a back-up in radiology, and I had to wait my turn. I had my book, so I was mostly fine. I mean, of course I would rather be at home, and I was hungry, but priorities, you know?
I texted Sarah a bit, read a bit, watched paramedics come and go, watched patients come and go. I overheard my RN in charge telling some paramedics that they couldn't take an incoming patient in the room that was right at the foot of my bed because it had been housing a COVID patient and "it needs to be burned."
See Good Idea #2 above--I wore a mask all day.
Eventually I was taken back to radiology for the chest CT scan, which was weird because they sent some sort of liquid through me via the IV port. But it was quick and painless, and I was soon back to my comfy little home in the hallway. RN in charge came back to take my vitals again. I asked him, "Do you ever get used to all the beeping in this place?"
"No. No, I don't!!"
"How could anyone? It's constant! I mean, I teach middle school, and I thought that was noisy..."
We had a good laugh, and my vitals came back with excellent blood pressure and a calm heart rate.
Finally, I saw the awesome doctor again. My chest scan came back perfectly clear. (I had seen this on the app already, of course.)
"Are you ready to go home?"
We discussed the biggest question everyone had all day: WHY did I faint?!
"So here's my answer: I don't know. But I can tell you that it is not any of the Big, Scary Stuff."
"That is very good to know."
"Yes! I'd suggest you follow up with your primary care physician tomorrow. But for now, go home, wash the blood out of your hair--carefully! And just rest. You can go about your normal activities tomorrow, but maybe just keep the workouts on the easy side for a few days."
I called Dad to let him know to get in his car right now because I was so ready to get home. A nurse (not my RN in charge, a different one) came by to remove my IV port, and I was so glad to not have to see that stupid thing sticking out of my skin anymore. (I had my sleeve over it most of the day because needles in skin gives me the heebie jeebies. Gosh, it's gross.)
Dad got on his way, and I was allowed to walk out on my own. I stopped at the discharge desk to pay my copay, then headed down the hallway, and out the doors to sweet, blessed freedom.
My wonderful dad drove me home, walked me all the way to my place to make sure I got upstairs alright, and then drove home to fall in an exhausted heap in his recliner. I showered, and watched rust-colored water drain out of my hair for several minutes before ever-so-gently shampooing around the massive bump/bruise/small cut on my scalp.
I ate about 1,000 calories for dinner (I'm not kidding, I entered it all in my FitBit app) to make up for fasting from 7:00 that morning 'til about 5:00 in the evening. It was all healthy stuff I'd prepared for lunches and snacks for the week. It was just a lot of food because my body was in serious need of fuel.
.
.
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That was Monday. The rest of the week I was able to return to work (kids came back Tuesday so I didn't miss any time with them), and I held off on working out because I still had a little bit of dizziness in the mornings when I first went from horizontal in bed to vertical getting up.
On Wednesday, I had a previously-scheduled appointment for some gynecology stuff that I won't get into here--nothing serious, just a woman seeking some reassurance for impending perimenopause--and on Thursday, I had a video call with my primary physician to discuss the fainting. By this time, I had a theory.
A friend on Facebook, seeing a post I made about fainting, messaged me. She thought that maybe, my run in 30 degree weather, followed by a hot shower, might have been what made me faint. Over the next few days, I mentioned this to others, and a few people have had similar experiences--going from one temperature extreme to another quickly messed with them in some way, sometimes leading to fainting.
My doctor was on board with this idea, as well, so that's what we're going with. My head has healed very nicely, and quickly!
I was looking forward to the three-day weekend so I could rest from the craziness of last week, but I got hit by a nasty case of strep throat. God, that one sucks. Still negative for COVID, but I managed to get the strep nasties. A couple days of amoxicillin have me feeling much better, but I stayed home from work today because after the last eight days, I'm not willing to push too hard, too fast.
Nope, I'm going to let my body rest and recover, because I have had enough poking and prodding the last week. I want to resume running (maybe Friday or Saturday). I want to bleach the hell out of this house after spending all weekend breathing strep everywhere (I have cleaned the bathroom, kitchen, and my bedding and towels, plus washed every single dish I've used).
I also want to NOT have to take a sick day as I have done each week now since returning from our winter break.
Fortunately, my colleagues and my admin team are very supportive and caring. A lot of people have held me up this last week, and I'm profoundly grateful for my community.
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