UPDATE: I was released from the hospital on Sunday on the condition that I have my blood taken Monday morning to make sure the Coumadin levels in my blood were high enough (otherwise I would need to give myself a shot of Lovenox in the stomach). Sidenote - THERE WAS A PRISONER ON MY FLOOR THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL. I had noticed the police officer sitting down the hall from my room and thought to myself naively It's so nice they have a security guard to make us feel safe. On the way out, Kurt informed me he wasn't there to make me feel safe, he was there to guard the inmate three rooms away from me. I was so happy he hadn't told me beforehand. In this case, ignorance was bliss.
The second I was released, Kurt and I hightailed it to Brigantine where our friends were waiting. "Amy Watch 2010" they called it. We came back early Monday morning and I got my blood taken, stressing how vital it was they conduct the tests TODAY because I need a shot TODAY if the levels aren't enough. By the way, it bothers me to no end that you have to go to 3 different places and speak to 3 different doctors for one thing, and none of them communicate. The doctors have all been wonderful, but that is frustrating. Speak to each other instead of through me. Because no one believes me! Twice in the hospital I repeated to my nurses what the doctor told me ("he said you can take the port out of my arm" and "he says I can go home") and both times they thought I was lying. I understand that some patients lie, but if everyone communicated a little better, we wouldn't have this problem. And I was telling the truth.
Anyway, I picked up the mail on the way back to the beach (yes we came home for about 30 minutes and drove the hour and a half back right away) and guess what was in it: my COBRA enrollment form. Turns out, COBRA is retroactive. I could've cried I was so happy to see that form. We'll see if it actually works since in my experience dealing with health insurance companies is never straightforward, but at least I'm covered somewhat. One problem down.
I've been waiting all week to hear about my lab tests. When I first was admitted to the ER, they took 6 vials of blood to run tests, looking for the usual culprits of blood clots - pregnancy, genetic predisposition, cancer (yes I didn't mention that one before - no need to scare everyone). The most likely was a genetic predisposition, so I was expecting that as my diagnosis; baby aspirin for the rest of my life, daily, self-administered shots of heparin everyday while pregnant, etc. I got the call today. My blood is completely normal - no genetic disorders, no predisposition for clotting, nothing. Relief does not even come close to the describing the emotion I felt. I was elated. The doctors think it was most likely the pill that caused it. Don't you love how they're never exactly sure? I was off the pill the second I was diagnosed with blood clots, so we're all good there. Just 6 more months of daily Coumadin, weekly blood tests, and absolute sobriety. It's funny how things have a way of working out.
I'm a new blogger and just discovered your blog. It's refreshing to read about someone else's life and actually find it interesting. That's a compliment. It's got to do with your way of writing.
ReplyDeleteAbout your post though, similar story happened to me. When my husband was in hospital there was a chained prisoner, in his room, in the next bed, with a policeman right next to him. He'd beaten up his wife pretty badly but she won the fight, put him in hospital. Unfortunately he was released the next day (from police custody not hospital) she dropped the charges.
Hope you're back to full health soon.
Becky
http://www.student@30.blogspot.com/