Posted in #teamhadley, Beating Hemiplegic Migraine, Chronic Migraine, Daily Migraine, family, Health Blog, Hemiplegic Migraine, HM, Just Keep Keepin On, MU Health Care, PCU, PICC line, port, port surgery, portacath, Seizures, SHM, Sporadic Hemiplegic Migraine, support, Today I Win, Uncategorized, University ER, University of Missouri Health Care

Winning.

One year ago today I published a blog titled, “Today, I Win”. Never would I have remembered this date, but Timehop gently reminded me today. I captioned my shared post with one simple sentence, “This is a special one”. Little did I know at the time just how special this post would end up being

As I clicked the post to reread my thoughts I got slight butterflies. Sure, I remember the day, I can tell the story, but I didn’t expect for each word to impact me so deeply. Reading about driving for the first time in years, I could taste the exact newfound independence from that day before I finished my description of it. That feeling has yet to be duplicated since that day, and never again will I feel that exact thing. It’s the day I chose I was going to win. 

screen-shot-2016-10-03-at-10-51-09-pm

Never in a million years would I have been able to guess just how empowering this statement has become. It’s hard to fathom how much power can be held within three little words. No matter the battle you may be fighting, you’ll need bravery, strength, drive, family and so much more. You won’t make it through any battle without being humble or proud of yourself. Life requires you to have confidence in yourself, but you’ll learn how important a good cry can be. This saying, “Today, I Win”, encompasses each of those traits, but the list doesn’t stop there.

I won’t sit here and say that those are the first and last words I say to myself every day. However, every day I remind myself of it at least once because when times are tough, they are very tough. It’s on those bad days I have to remember how good it feels to always win. When I spent nine months having to drag myself, and family, into the emergency room every week I questioned how I was winning. If I wasn’t living, if I was barely scraping by, could that really be counted as “winning? It didn’t feel like it. But I was. In my hours spent sitting in that waiting room I watched hearts break, emergency helicopters land, and people leaving empty. Even though I was there every week, I also left every week. And I left feeling better than when I came in, which is more than some others can say.

The beginning of this past April, my mom and I found our way to yet another new neurologist. We had been waiting for this date, this appointment and this doctor for close to fourteen months. None of those three things were anything new to us, nor was the anxious knot in our stomach and prayer for help. As he walked through the door we knew Dr. Cheesy was quirky and unique. Some of his very first words were this; “I’ve learned you can’t just look at one thing. That doesn’t work. Specialists will bounce people around and then they’ll end up with me. I’m usually the last in line, so I can’t just pass you on to anyone else.” As The Cheese spent the next hour asking questions, examining and thinking, my mom and I both knew we had just won a big one.

In April and May, just a few months ago, the Today, I Win mindset wasn’t any easy one for any of my family or friends to keep. As I was hooked up in ICU getting a feeding tube, there didn’t seem to be any spot worse. As I laid mostly unconscious for days upon days, the amount of fight, bravery or resources didn’t seem to matter. Through the many tears cried and the confidence in my doctors, there still didn’t seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel. To my family and loved ones it didn’t feel like Hadley was in there. I couldn’t remember my birthday or walk without help. There were some very scary days. After 22 days, I walked out of that hospital with more answers and plans in place. Yet again, I had won. We had won.

Today, I Win has turned into something much greater than myself. It has turned into a mindset and support from so many others. I hope others use this motto to help them through. That’s the beauty of this mindset, it can be made to fit all battles, because we all have them.

Now, today. Today I woke up. It hasn’t been a great day for me, I’ve been struggling, but we’re trying to be proactive in stopping what we know is coming. Today, I drove to the doctor. Today, I met with Dr. Cheesy just as I do every single Monday. We discussed my week, we discussed the current plan and anything else needing to be covered. Today, I had dinner with my family. Today, I am sitting down and posting my first real blog in 3 months. As I write this, I touch the charm on my neck that reads”TIW”, just as a reminder that I am lucky to have so many people fighting to win this with me.

Today, I Win.

Today, We Win.

 

Advertisements
Posted in Beating Hemiplegic Migraine, Chronic Migraine, Daily Migraine, Health Blog, Hemiplegic Migraine, PICC line, port, port surgery, portacath, Seizures, Today I Win, Uncategorized

Ported😬

No one likes needles. And if you do, you’re crazy. At the beginning of this crazy ride needles scared me to death, I would squirm and about make myself sick, just with the anticipation. But as time went on I adjusted. I assured myself that if I took deep breaths and let the nurse do their thing, it would be over quick. I got to be a real good sport, as long as no one would talk during the IV attempt.

But no way it could be that easy. Each time a nurse would inspect my arms they’d comment on the scarce good veins I had to offer. Since I was usually going in pretty dehydrated, I knew that wasn’t helping things. At the beginning of this year I only had a few bad IV experiences to show for it. That was at the beginning. 

In October I started my 15 day hospital stay in Chicago. My first IV ended up infected and really painful. At 2am my night nurse agreed that it had to be changed. After careful inspection she couldn’t get another line started and called the pediatric nurse in to try, he got a tiny IV started, but it would have to do. Being in my hand it wasn’t very protected and by the next day I had knocked it into a nerve. Bye-bye IV #2. My nurses decided a picc line was my best bet, and I was happy to try it. A picc meant I could get all of my meds and blood drawls via that one line. Sweet.

So into the OR I go. Dr. Hickey was gorgeous, seriously. The two nurses were hilarious, but it was my first time getting a “surgical procedure” and the nurse swinging a tall needle full of lidocaine around definitely knocked up the nerve scale. Don’t worry, I made it through, no harm, no foul.

Unfortunately I ended up really sore and uncomfortable, all signs pointed to blood clot. After a quick ultrasound it was confirmed that I had, indeed, already developed a clot around my picc. It was still superficial and was taken care of with daily blood thinner shots in my tummy…ouch!

Fast forward to Decemeber. Another 9 day Chicago hospital trip resulted in a blown vein, and three more IVs. Yay.

 Later that month in the ER a nurse placed a bad IV that ended up infiltrating the medications into my surrounding tissues…not my vein. Infiltrated IVs are PAINFUL!!

Now, skip ahead to March. Yep, you guessed it, another Chicago hospital stay. This one 11 days inpatient. IV #1 was a placed really well in my right hand, but since IVs can only be left in for 4 days it had to be replaced. IV #2 was placed with some trouble in my left hand, but I still got 3 days out of it. IV #3 took 2 tries, but ended up in the bend of my left arm. Unfortunately, the vein was just too small and on day two the line had to be removed. Keep in mind that 3 of the meds I get via IV are terrible for my veins, so as time moves on my veins just kept getting worse. IV #4 was almost impossible to get placed. A last resort attempt earned the IV a spot in the bend of my right arm. The next morning my day nurse came to push my first round of Benadryl. It hurt so bad. Benadryl literally slices your veins and hurts, but usually I just wince. When the nurse reattached my fluids I was doubled over in pain. I knew something was not okay, and myself stopped the fluids from running. I called my nurse in and she checked the blood return, normal for my weak veins, she said. She started trying to flush with saline and I started crying. I had to yell at her to stop. I needed to listen to my body. I’m no IV whimp and this hurt sooo bad.

That was at 10:30 in the morning, by 1:30 that afternoon my nurse hadn’t been back in for any of her rounds or to give any of my afternoon meds I needed. I called in the charge nurse, who just happened to be one of the nurses I’ve stayed tight with. My arm was so swollen I had to cut the bracelets off, it was sore to the touch and a rash had started to follow the line of my vein. Vickki was concerned with my history of blood clot and had that IV out right away. That meant I had earned myself my 5th IV in 11 days. Boo. I left that trip with painful arms, collapsed veins and bad infiltration. No Bueno.


Back home my weekly infusions started and each week IVs were getting harder and harder to start. They were having to use tiny lines which was painful for me, and made the process take 6 hours.

Finally, one Thursday no one could get a line started. Infusion called a NICU nurse just to try. She gave it three shots and ended up blowing all three veins. There was no where left to try. My neurologist ordered another picc line. They set up ultrasound to look for the best placement option. Instead, all they found were tiny unhealthy veins that were unuseable. Ugh. Unable to get my treatment, they set up an appointment to get a tunneled picc in my chest on Tuesday.

I had done my research on all my options and had decided that instead, a portacath would be my best option. I had to fight my doctor on it, but stood strong that was what I wanted. A port is completely under your skin, so it doesn’t restrict you as much as a tunneled picc or Hickman line.  I would be getting a power port placed right under my collar bone. Finally.


So, after two attempts to draw blood and six attempts to place an IV so I could be put out the surgeon decided to place a special catheter. He tented, sanatized, and numbed the site before placing the catheter. He got it all the way in before discovering an unknown blood clot and had to remove it from my left arm. He repeated the process on a new spot in my right arm and finally got it. But it was so sensitive that a nurse had to stand and hold it in place while the meds dripped in.

The port placement takes roughly 45 minutes, mine took almost 2 hours. The first hour was spent trying to get accsses. Ouch. But now the port is in place and healing nicely. Thank goodness!!!


I’ve had it accessed three times now, and it is definitely tolerable compared to the multiple sticks previously. Yay!