Gunner Quinn
On Monday I seemed extra tired while trying to get morning chores done, and it took longer than normal. I struggled milking the cow and carrying the milk in. I felt dizzy, a little short of breath, like walking underwater. I tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t shakin’. After morning farm chores were slowly finished, I sat in a lounge chair and put my feet up. I pretty much stayed there all day. At least, until, it was time for afternoon chores, and I didn’t milk the cow. Just couldn’t do it. Went to bed early and slept really good.
Tuesday morning I was still draggin’ my wagon, up early, thinking about that milk cow. The dizziness was worse, and my heart had started pounding, flip flopping, hard to get a good breath, rushing water in my ears, nausea, the feeling of fainting, but that cow had to be milked. I was hanging on to a post in the milking area, trying not to blackout, and all of a sudden I realized… this is not good. At all. You need help. Your grandkids aren’t going to miss the cows as much as they miss you. Pay attention for cryin’ out loud girl!! I prayed for strength and got that cow turned back out, leaving the milking equipment on the ground, got back in the house, got my feet elevated, and started messaging family, realizing that my next call had to be 911. Oh, how I hate calling 911 for an ambulance ride.
As I waited for family to arrive, my mind was racing through all the things… stroke symptoms, heart attack symptoms…. I couldn’t really figure it out. Could be anything. But, if I sat still with my feet up, all the symptoms vanished. I have a lot of experience with family members’ heart attacks and strokes, and my symptoms just didn’t seem to fit the bill. I remained very coherent. If I didn’t exert myself, the symptoms vanished. I thought, okay, exertion = circulation issues. There’s something going on with blood flow. I have a blood cancer, but these symptoms are not related unless it’s a catastrophic bone marrow collapse and I’ve got no red blood cells full of oxygen to rely on. That could be a possibility, but not likely.
I had seen my Oncologist a week prior and I was anemic per the usual, but “stable”. At any rate, I knew I had to go in through Emergency to a bigger hospital, and since a family member was on the way over, I decided not to call 911, but promised I would if anything changed. I know, I know… I’m as stubborn as the day is long. But, if I had a choice, I wanted to be escorted into a hospital large enough to handle it if things got complicated. There is one about 40 minutes away. Our podunky little town hospital doesn’t even deliver babies. I wanted to land where there would be resources. If I had a choice.
Praise God, I had a choice, and got to the Emergency Department at the hospital of my choice. The magic words always are “faint, nauseous, pounding heart, can’t catch my breath” and a few mumbles about heart attack or stroke. That will get you in to be seen faster than anything else I have learned. LOL. Yup, got right in and was immediately evaluated.
No heart attack. No stroke. Very anemic. The young doctor in training asked me, “Do you know what your normal Hemoglobin is?” Of course I do because my blood is evaluated every few months and I’m a total geek about the numbers. “It was 11 last week. I have blah blah blah type of Lymphoma and my Oncologist is in the next building over, and his name is Dr. Blah”. The young man was very earnest, and said, “Thank you. You are at an 8.5 right now. Is that low for you?” Ahhh yes, it is. It’s never been that low. When it hits 7, it’s time for a blood transfusion. Sigh… and so began the process of evaluating, most likely a GI bleed, have to monitor the blood every so many I-can’t-handle-another-vein-blown-because I’m dehydrated and my veins are playing hide and seek. Long story short, as it was explained to me, first we check the upper GI tract and if we don’t find anything, we go in from the other end and look for bleeds in the lower GI tract. Oh joy. So began hours of starving me to death and dying of thirst in case I needed to go under a general anesthesia, which of course, didn’t help my veins at all. I started making jokes and pointing to the blown veins and offering alternatives like the back of my hands, anywhere they can see the semblance of a tiny vein, etc.
You really have to have a sense of humor when you have to get stuck that many times. I let them wrangle an IV thingie into a vein on the back of one of my hands, which was used over and over and over until I thought I wouldn’t have a vein left. I only used the F-word once. At one point I just said, Nope. You are going to have to give my veins a rest for a little while. That nurse stomped off to ask the head hospital doctor and then she came back, and said, “He said you have the right to refuse.” I kindly said, we just need to wait a few hours. Please. And showed her my arms. And it was agreed.
This went on for a good 24 hours with them monitoring the drop in my hemoglobin and hematocrit while trying to get me stable enough to undergo anesthesia, and then boom. The Hemoglobin dropped to 7. Time for a blood transfusion. Big hospitals have big resources. But they also have a timetable of when things happen. They were trying to get me in the next morning for surgery when they would have the right resources to handle it if crap hit the fan, but also ready to go fast if I couldn’t hang on.
As an aside, I have sworn I would never allow a blood transfusion because it is my belief that the blood supply is tainted with a number of things I have tried very hard to prevent entering my personal blood supply. I don’t do vaccines, or unnecessary surgeries or interventions, or pharmaceuticals, etc. But, I knew intellectually, that if a blood transfusion would quickly save my life while I still had a life to live, then I would accept it. I gave the nurse a hard time and said, “I don’t do blood transfusions.” She nearly lost her cool when I said that. JUST KIDDING! Because of my blood type and blood cancer, my blood had to be carefully “typed” to donor blood by a pathologist. And it was, and the transfusion, which took a good 3 hours, was successful. I said, “Okay Lord, I’m in Your Hands. And I’m always in Your Hands, so please let this be life saving and not life ending. Amen.”
Throughout the process, I was explaining to one of my daughters all the medical mumbo jumbo of blood counts, expectations, choices, directions, etc. Probably to the nurses’ amazement or annoyance, I don’t know nor care. I was going to call the shots if I could, with kindness, but firmness. My daughter is my identical twin and she was following my logic and she knew my wishes, so we were a good team. She let me advocate for myself, but stepped in when she thought I needed help. So good to have an advocate!
But, let me back up. My daughters are the most amazing people on the earth. One jumped on a plane and flew here, while one jumped in a car and raced here. Their husbands, who are also amazing, took over family responsibilities immediately. One daughter was on standby should anyone need help with their children and families. One didn’t leave my side in the hospital in case she needed to advocate for me, and the other took on the entire farm, at 11pm at night. She fed animals, put chickens up, made sure dogs were where they were supposed to be and fed, checked on cows, cats, etc. What a woman!
Since I was fully coherent I started sharing contacts off my phone. This lady can be called to milk the cow. This young man can be called to do farm chores. This young man can handle just about any farm emergency with large animals. And so on. Then I gave my phone to one daughter who responded to messages for me. I had a list of customers who were scheduled to pick up milk and they needed to know there would be no milk due to an emergency.
By the way, I have daughters with Power of Attorney over my health and finances. They have my health records, one is signed on to bank accounts of import, one has a list of accounts and PIN numbers. I have an Advanced Healthcare Directive explicitly stating my wishes, which includes a “DNR” (Do Not Resuscitate). I prioritize paying for the best health insurance available so that the house never has to be sold, or debt doesn’t have to be incurred. This is how I safeguard my children from draining their resources for me. I even had a large wad of cash that I handed to the first daughter who arrived and said, “This is to pay for anything that needs to be paid for. Use what you need to use.” I felt prepared for them to take over and they did. Yay. But also, they are willing and able. That is an enormous blessing that I don’t take for granted. I love and adore my children, and I sure don’t want them left with a nightmare mess to clean up or figure out.
Everyone at the hospital was amazingly kind, thorough, caring, helpful, etc. Right down to the arrogant anesthesiologist. He said to me, “I see that DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) wristband. Let’s talk and I need you to sign more papers.” I said, “Sure. Talk to me.” So he explained instances where the anesthesia might negatively affect me and he could quickly rescue the situation, but not without my permission if I had a DNR. He was earnest, straightforward, and kind. I smiled and said, “Fair enough. I agree.” I also said, “Here’s the thing. I don’t want to wake up any dumber than I am right now.” LOL. I think he understood. I prayed out loud right there on the gurney for safety and blessings, and all of the nurses said, “Amen”.
As a side note… wow anesthesia has improved!! I can’t remember the name of the drug, but I went out like a light, and woke right up with a nice nurse tending to me as if nothing had happened. I wasn’t groggy or scared or had a hard time waking up. Something I had experienced in the past. I was greatly impressed.
Turns out there was an upper GI bleed from an ulcer and something about an H. Pylori infection, but a small one. I questioned the physician’s assistant about that. When you work on a farm, you are exposed to all kinds of bacteria. I had been meaning to do a “cleanse” with some specific herbs, but had not gotten around to it. The medical answer for the infection is antibiotics and proton pump inhibitors. (The latter is a group of medicines that decrease stomach acid production.) The Physician’s Assistant said it was very small and most people have it, they just don’t know it. They had been giving me proton pump inhibitors through an IV, but no antibiotics.
After doing a little research, I have decided to treat it with herbal remedies rather than continue on proton pump inhibitors due to side effects. My body. My choice. They clipped, cauterized, and stapled the affected areas, which they said were small and had stopped bleeding, then gave me a prescription for proton pump inhibitors. To which, the Pharmacy told me that the medication was $400 and I could get it over the counter really cheap. LOL. I thanked them and decided to go my own route because… the surgeon fixed the bleed and I can deal with a small infection with herbs.
Preparedness Lessons:
- Be educated about your health issues, do your research, document it, share it with someone you can trust to be an advocate, preferably more than one person. If there is no one who can be your Emergency Contact, tape it to your refrigerator, carry it in your wallet, make sure your doctor knows it all. It really helps the Emergency and Hospital folks to make good decisions.
- Carry the best health insurance you can. When/If global or national SHTF and insurance doesn’t matter, that’s another matter. You may have a personal SHTF moment that you need to be responsible enough to manage without losing your shirt. Thankfully, in this country (USA), there are still all kinds of options.
- Make sure that you have Power of Attorney, Will/Trust, Advanced Directive, and paperwork done with copies to the right people, whomever they may be.
- Cash is king. Make sure you have a stash available for all the incidentals.
- Foster and grow your network of trusted people. I am extremely independent, an introvert, don’t socialize, but I have a long list of people who showed up and jumped in with both feet when I needed them. That network was developed over time.
The most important prep of all time is to be prepared to meet your Maker.
I firmly believe that when it is time for us to go, it is time. That can be today or tomorrow or next week or not for 20, 30, or even 50 years. It’s so important to be living in the Now, not in the past, not in the future, but with Eternity already settled in the heart. Because of Jesus, eternity is settled for me, and I know that my life right now is a gift from God. I love my life, but I can’t hold it too closely. I have to be ready to go when it’s time. I love the farm and the animals and the beauty and peace. It fills up my soul every day, even when there are hard days. But that day could have been my last day. It was not, and I am grateful. God granted me, yet, another reprieve. I am walking a road to recovery now, and have to make some decisions about how much I can and can’t do. It’s all good.
Remember John 16:33:
“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”
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