Posted in Beating Hemiplegic Migraine, Chronic Migraine, Daily Migraine, Health Blog, Hemiplegic Migraine, Just Keep Keepin On, Seizures, Today I Win, Uncategorized

Abnormal Psychology

I opened my Psychology textbook a couple weeks ago to read about Biopsychology, Neuroscience and Human Nature. I had to write a paper for my abnormal psych class about sympathetic division and parasympathetic division, basically our bodies’ fight-or-flight responses. However, instead of taking an hour to read that specific section and write my paper, I spent my time reading the entire chapter. The intro paragraph to the chapter gave me chills as I scanned over it. You could’ve been fooled into thinking the textbook wrote about the first day I had an attack, using nearly exact depictions I have used before.

The textbook wrote; “Then, on a cold December morning, Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor’s life abruptly changed. When Jill first awoke that fateful day, she noticed a painful pounding in her head that felt like a severe headache. As she tried to go about her normal morning routine, however, she began to notice odd changes in her body and mind. Stepping into the shower became a focused effort in coordination. Her body felt strange; the sound of water was a deafening roar, and the overhead light seared her eyes. Jill could hear her family’s voices, each syllable like a pen drop, but was not able to respond no matter how hard she tried. As she tried to think rationally and figure out what was happening, she couldn’t keep her thoughts on track and felt two steps behind. …”

I wrote in a past blog; “October 26th, 2012, I was a sophomore in high school. I woke up that Friday morning in a weird daze, like I was two steps behind everyone else. Headaches were not a new thing for me, but that day it was a headache like never before. I was not myself. I chalked it up to cheering in the rain and not eating well the night before. I figured my asthma was acting up and I was on the verge of being sick, nothing a weekend of rest couldn’t kick. In second hour, Señora Johnson asked me my favorite sport to play. I was to respond, in Spanish. But I couldn’t. I remember the feeling like it was yesterday. You know in cartoons when someone’s talking but the person listening feels like it’s far away or out of focus? That’s exactly how I felt. It was like I could hear each letter of what she was saying but I physically could not respond. She gave me an awkward, like, two minutes to respond. About a minute after I couldn’t come up with a response, and a friend jumped in to save me, I passed out for the first time…”

Dr Jill, had a stroke that day. She was taken to the hospital, tested, scanned, diagnosed and treated. She still spent 3-4 months returning to her normal self, but says she can remember the feeling of that morning like it was yesterday. I too remember the moment like it was yesterday except, I was not tested or scanned(at first), I was shown how constipation was the answer, instead. I can’t help but wonder what changed that day. Or what could’ve been different over the next few years if I had had tests run that first ER trip. It’s scary how much could potentially slide through the cracks based on one doctor’s opinion. What if I’d been having a real stroke? That’s where my essay prompt about doctors having a God complex came in. Yeah, I had fun with that one.

Learning about the brain works and all things psychology is my favorite. If I could be a real life Criminal Minds team member, I would do it in heart beat. But it is kinda weird having discussions about things that hit close to home. After having discussions, reading the above, and writing two essays; one about doctor’s God complex and the other about the sympathetic nervous system I was loving my psychology class. Then, last week, I had an appointment with a pain management doctor. He talked with my mom and I for probably an hour before we began discussing possible ways he could help. I really liked the doctor and appreciated that he was aware how serious and complex my case was. Dr. M presented the idea of a nerve block. But he happened to start explaining the works of the sympathetic nervous system! It was so cool to be able to have knowledge of what he was discussing and all the things this system does for our bodies. 

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The next day, Dr. M set me up for a Stellate Ganglion Nerve Block. The procedure is performed by putting a needle right into your neck. Lovely, right? Actually, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I had made myself nice and anxious about it, until I realized the picture I had come up with in my head was of an actual meat thermometer being jabbed into my carotid. Probably another nod to Criminal Minds, there. The hope of the SG block is that it helps my jaw and the major right-sided swelling that this doctor found. Unfortunately, we know it won’t help the root of the problem, HM directly, but maybe these few pieces of it. Any-who, with zero local anesthetic, the doc went for it. I knew he was successfully in the middle of my nerve when I got instant make-you-sick-pain. All in all the whole procedure was pretty short and sweet. The nurses were fantastic, but underestimated my experience as they were sure to explain that a X-Ray would not hurt, and just took pictures. When the X-Ray picture popped up on the screen, two nurses started whispering, worried about something in my vein. It was actually just my Port-a-cath line that you could see plain as day, which I thought was awesome! We have yet to see ground breaking results but are hopeful that with a few more blocks we will soon. I go back in this Friday!

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Here just shows the site in relation to my port. Site of block is just bruising, slightly.
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Posted in Beating Hemiplegic Migraine, Chronic Migraine, Daily Migraine, Health Blog, Hemiplegic Migraine, Seizures, Today I Win, Uncategorized

Watch my Week!

This week I decided to try something totally different! I recorded details of my week to show to my specialist I get to see very soon. My mom suggested I turn it into a blog post. My aunt, who also suffers a chronic, invisible disease, agreed that sometimes you have to see it to believe it. I tried taking a video clip from each day this week, without making it an hour long but still getting an idea of things. It’s still quite long, but I wanted to get the point across, so please hang in there! I hope this gives everyone a more accurate depiction of the way attacks come about and the serious toll they take on my body, I wish I could’ve included more. Every time I compare pictures from bad day to post IV, I myself am still blown away. Not all the pictures are pretty and though I only added two clips on my worst days, they’re plenty bad. I wish I would’ve gotten a bit more of the final two days recored, but they were the worst two for a reason.

Each attack differs a bit, sometimes vomiting affecting me more while other times the seizures and so on. This attack’s worst part was the pain. Yes, it’s always painful, but it got extra bad this week. I’m so thankful my ER has been working well with me recently, but I am more than ready to visit my doctor and work out some new options. The first picture below was taken in the ER while waiting on a round of medications, the second was taken right when I got home from the ER.

ER Post ER 2 post ER 1

(yes, this is one of those annoying videos you have to turn the volume up and down on.)

 

On a final note, since I’m letting the video do must of the talking this time, I want to say THANK YOU to all the people who have shown interested and ordered the shirts I have shared. I have been so excited and surprised by the amount of people ordering to support me. You all rock!

http://www.booster.com/dashboard/campaigns/2832722?status=

 

Posted in Chronic Migraine, Daily Migraine, Hemiplegic Migraine, Seizures

Hadley; noun

Sitting down to pump out a blog I will actually publish feels good after taking a three week break. I appreciate everybody asking if they’ve missed my latest one or wondering where I’ve been. It’s been a rough go lately and I decided to take a bit of a break from posting. Over the last three weeks I’ve written several pieces, but after reading over them they felt like negative whiny run-ons. I also just simply wasn’t motivated to share all of the bad stuff swirling around in Hadley world. Blogging is something I’ve come to love, but sometimes it’s still a bit hard to share such personal things. Sharing descriptions of such unattractive insecurities just wasn’t something I could bring myself to do while I was in a negative spot week. BUT! I’ve taken my time, and I’m glad to be back on the horse. Don’t worry, this doesn’t take away from the honest, raw feelings put out here. 

While putting everything out there is necessary if I want to blog about my health, it can also be tough to find the line of sharing what needs to be shared, what details I want to share, and what’s right to keep private. Putting descriptions about paralysis, lockjaw, seizures and hospitals is simply unattractive. I’m not saying I need everyone telling me I’m super hot or anything surface level, really. But to have such detailed depictions of incidents that intimidate and turn me off, means that many more of the details I share probably do that much more to many more people. I’m not sure when infusion appointments became what I looked forward to, or when I started celebrating the taste of saline. At some point I became an expert in medical phrases and able to rattle off lists and purposes of medications. I’m 19 years old, but the shots I celebrate consist of needles and Benadryl. Those just aren’t things that my peers can relate to. It’s been tough for me lately, to worry that everyone I talk to will only be able to see me as HM Hadley.

I’m not sure why it’s been such a recent insecurity for me, or if it’s just one that I’m finally mentally ready to tackle. I make the effort to get up, actually blow dry my hair, do my hair, and get dressed every day that I can leaving the house or not, something I never felt the need to do before. I’ve taken the time to actually put makeup on to go into town if I’m not feeling badly, or to keep my nails painted. Honestly, I’m not sure if these are positives, because a few years ago I always accomplished all of these things, or if it’s the insecurities taking over. Feeling such a prominent insecurity is kind of uncharted waters for me. Don’t get me wrong, of course I have had all the same lows teenage girls go through, but overall I’ve always been pretty confident in myself.

I think I worry fewer and fewer people will get to know, or want to get to know, the real Hadley. To be perfectly honest, it’s something that I’m getting to know all over again. But I am SO excited about that and I want others to be also, I guess. See, the newfound insecurity is even coming through in this post, at least I caught it, because I’ve added “I think” to so many sentences like I need to justify my thoughts. I suppose the moral of my rambles here is this; I lost myself for a long time. And in getting back to myself, I’ve gotten so far that I’m able to face lows and insecurities that have probably been here the whole time. As much as that scares me to death, that also makes me want to pat myself on the back. I love this blog, I love the support this blog has brought me personally, and even more-so the support to others I will never meet, but I don’t want anyone else to lose Hadley.

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😉

I hope this reached some level of making sense.

Posted in Beating Hemiplegic Migraine, Hemiplegic Migraine, Just Keep Keepin On

Just Keep Keepin On

I find myself stuck wide awake at 2am, again. I’ve gone through all the tricks you’re “supposed to do” to cure insomnia. I go down the list most nights, guess what? None of them really work. Hopefully my mom and Paula got more out of our two hour sleep class at Mayo than I did.

I sleep best with a TV on, even though that’s a big NO. I need the sound and general distraction to keep my mind from wondering a thousand miles a minute. If I make it through the nightly Friend’s marathon on Nick at Night I usually turn the TV off and try just music. Rarely does that work. Then starts the list of ridiculous things you can find me doing in the early AM hours; yoga, breathing exercises, stretching, mindfulness, oxygen treatments, ice, moving to the couch, moving downstairs, peppermint headbands. All of this on top of sheets freshly washed in Lavender and a handful of night time medications that would knock out a giant. Yet, here I am. Wide awake. Luckily, my favorite time to write is after midnight! Lol.

Tonight, however, is an extra rough night. The HM monster is in full swing. After a painful seizure this evening and shocks sending a jolt from the base of my neck through my fingers and toes, my right arm and leg are completely numb and paralyzed. All the while I swear I have ice picks sticking out of my face and in my eye. Having to skip my Tuesday infusion is going to be extra rough this week.

This is a completely accurate depiction of how the inside of my head feels. Thanks Snapchat. Might be a tad too graphic for this. Oh Well.

I wish I could explain just how odd it is to have zero sensation on half of your body. I tried running my hand under hot water tonight, just to see if I could bring some feeling back to it. Nada. If I wouldn’t have been watching my hand under the running water, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you that was happening. Being numb is such an uncomfortable feeling that is impossible to get used to. And then you think, “how is it uncomfortable if you can’t feel?” I guess it’s more mentally uncomfortable. It’s been quite a long time since my arm and leg have been paralyzed. I went several months where they would just get extra tingly, my leg would drag occasionally, but even that wasn’t a constant when my attacks were hitting.

Unfortunately, in the last few weeks the numbness, weakness and paralysis that screams stroke to so many, have been frequent and worrisome. Usually starting in my finger tips, the pins and needles feeling all HMers know too well has started to quickly spread all the way past my shoulder. Last week, we began noticing that as that feeling was becoming more frequent, soon after my right arm starting spasming and jerking out of my control. I tried my muscle relaxants, those had no effect. Eventually, the spams chilled out by themselves, which we noted as a good sign. That was, until my arm ended up paralyzed for the rest of the night. Luckily, when I woke up the next morning it was back to full mobility and almost complete feeling had returned! That didn’t last long. Boo.

Then, we have my leg. My leg has always shown more signs of HM than my arm. Last year it was fully numb and paralyzed for three months. Yep, awful. During bad attacks it was still dragging, and that was one sign that the Hemiplegic days to follow would be in full force. But in the last week or two, we’ve seen more signs of weakness. Several times, out of nowhere, my leg has completely given out and caused me some ugly falls. Not that I need extra of those. Two nights ago, I was walking through the kitchen when it totally randomly landed me in a heap on the floor. From the tips of my toes to my hip I had no feeling, but I was still able to move it normally, so I just ignored it best I could. Again, the next morning it was back to normal.

I hope I’m proved wrong, but sadly I’d be willing to bet I don’t wake up good as new tomorrow. Seizures have been rough all night and I’m still dragging my leg when I try to walk a little bit, or having to use my left hand to pull my right arm into a comfortable position. Trying to type this one-handed is actually slightly comical. Well, and slightly frustrating. I keep telling my right hand to reach for the letters and nothing happens. Ugh. It’s actually extra weird to have my leg numb because I damaged a nerve in my left leg with a shot a few months ago and have lost complete feeling in half of my left thigh.

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So, this is actually the part of my left leg that is constantly numb. Weird how you can see the parts that get goosebumps and the parts that don’t, huh?

I’m a mess. A painful, numb, exhausted, stuck, mess. And for tonight, complaining about all of that is okay. But not tomorrow! Tomorrow I have to get up, know it is a new day, and try all the secret tricks of making it through another attack.

keepon

Posted in Beating Hemiplegic Migraine, Hemiplegic Migraine, Today I Win

Today, I Win.

Last weekend, I drove in town multiple times for the first time in three years. Some people are going to flip out when they read this because it “isn’t safe” or “too risky” and many other comments that all fall under the judgement umbrella. My parents wouldn’t let me do something that could possibly harm others, and even more so, possibly harm myself. If I was feeling good enough to voice that I wanted to drive, we were going to take that opportunity. I have to tell you, I can think of very few times I was more proud of myself than when I parked the car in the driveway after a smooth trip in town all day. And I know that I have never been as confident behind the wheel as I was this weekend. It was like I was finally gripping independence in my hands, even if just for a short while.

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Later that evening my family and I were on the way to my grandparents house to soak up the perfect weather with pizza on the patio. In the car, my Dad said, “Hadley, today you win.” Confused, I asked him to elaborate. My Dad proceeded to squeeze my shoulder and say, “HM didn’t win today. Today, you can look that monster in the face and kick him while he’s down because HM lost the battle today.” By golly he was right. In that one day, I had found it somewhere in me to not only drive, but to also shop, run down the stairs, and enjoy being outside with the family fishing. It didn’t matter that I was exhausted or that the beginnings of a drooping face were clear, all that mattered to any of us was that I could count that day as a win. And for that, we celebrated.

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Unfortunately but not surprisingly, I dropped hard to the floor that evening and had the most powerful, intense, and long seizure I have had in months. My body curled into the backwards “C” that we haven’t seen in so long and mid-seizure my jaw locked completely open. I can only imagine the intense “we just can’t win” feeling that took over the room as my family and grandparents watched my body violently attack itself, leaving them helpless. In those cases, I guess I’m glad to be unconscious.      

After finally waking up and getting myself to comfort on the couch, Jax, my sweet four year old cousin, come over to chat with me. Just before, he had been egging on a playful conflict with my Dad as he cheered on Kentucky, since Uncle B was cheering on Mizzou. I was expecting a scream of silliness but instead, Jaxson hit me in the emotional department. He asked me why my mouth was stuck open, a question I attempted to answer but totally lost him in the process. The sweet boy climbed up on the couch with me, looked at my hurting face, touched my jaw for just a second and quickly pulled his hand away. I was going to tell him it was okay, he didn’t hurt me when he touched it. I wanted so badly to know what was going through his kiddo of a mind. And then he told me.

“Hadley, why do you get such bad headaches? I want to know why.” As if he knew there was no response possible to that, he curled up under my blanket and let me snuggle up tight with him. Jax has forever been my snuggle buddy, but since his quick change from “my baby” to a “big kid” he hasn’t sat still long enough for many snuggles. As the rest of the family was joining us in the living room to watch the end of the football game, Jax turned back over to me and said, “It’s because of skunks.” With that matter of fact statement I tried to motion for him to give me a kiss. That was a total miss and we settled for an accidental head bump instead. Jaxson Glen, we’ll pretend this is all because of skunks. 🙂

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Although my mom and I’s night didn’t end until we got home from the ER at 2am, having to get my jaw fixed, I was still in better spirits than I am after most days that turn into let downs. Earlier in the night, when I had finally peeled my eyes open marking the end of that awful seizure, I was already crying. As I had slowly made my way back to consciousness I could feel the affect a bad seizure leaves me with, making it feel like it’s possible to have from your hair ends to the tips of your toes raging with hypersensitivity. I was immediately aware that my jaw was badly popped out and locked open. And I knew as soon as I tried to walk my HM side would be dragging and slow for days to follow. I felt each tear hit my cheek as my Dad helped pull my heavy head off the floor. I could feel the stressful mood of the room, while all the excited and positive remarks from earlier in the evening slammed my head. I felt terrible. My dad was helping to prop me up as I cried, more out of frustration than anything. The only words I mumbled to him were, “Do I still win, Dad?”.

“Yes, Had. You absolutely still win.”

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Posted in Hemiplegic Migraine

Mind Blown.

I’ve mentioned in past blogs the dramatic lock-jaw symptom I dealt with all summer. Typically, lock jaw means the sufferers’ jaw is locked closed and they cannot physically open it. I’m special and have what I think is the even worse side of that. When my mouth pulls to the right of my face it usually means my jaw is close to locking…open. That means I cannot eat, take oral medications, drink or sleep when the ordeal begins. My jaw quickly began to lock itself open more often than before, and the hardest part is that we have yet to be able to break the cycle on our own. This has earned me countless, almost weekly, ER trips. The last thing I want to do when I don’t feel good, or ever, is deal with the criticizing ER staff and loud, florescent lit department. However, lock-jaw is so painful I usually give in to ER rescues more quickly than normal. We’ve tried waiting hours and even days before hitting the hospital, hoping my home rescues could eventually calm my jaw. On the other hand, we’ve tried going straight to the emergency room because we know that route works and it means we don’t have to pump so many unsuccessful meds into me at home. Long story short, it is one of, if not the most painful symptoms I struggle with frequently.

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Tonight, I was scrolling through Facebook when a post from my Hemiplegic Migraine support group literally stopped me in my tracks. “Asking for some advice…I’ve been in a cycle for 6 days now…where hm comes and goes…but now my jaw with has completely locked up…anyone else have this??? And what have u done” WHAT. I’ve been trying to track these attacks for months, looking for any conclusion that would make this odd symptom make sense. Both of my neurologists have spent time witnessing an attack in person, watching videos or pictures of attacks, working on treatments and trying to come up with some type of explanation. Now, I’m reading yet another post leaving me mind blown of the to-the-T description given by multiple people all states or countries away from each other. How? Just, how?

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The very first response started with, “Mine locked with my mouth open…”. Yet again, that uncomfortable feeling in my gut urged me to read everyone else’s comments. 15 comments followed, each full of unfortunate thankfulness that someone else understood the excruciating pain that isn’t possible to describe. Person after person typing about their personal horror stories caused by reverse-like lock jaw. Seven people shared their need for emergency room trips each time, and the “cocktail” they required was nearly the exact that I require. I immediately had tears in my eyes. How? Just, how?

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the feeling of someone finally understanding exactly what you can’t put into words is odd, simply put. Over and over again these strangers through a computer get me. I relate to those people and all of a sudden i’m taking a deep breath, I’m reassured that I am not alone and WE will all continue to conquer. I hate that reading about other people struggling through days just as I am is the most comforting part of all this. I hate even more that we’re made to feel alone and crazy to the point that we even begin second guessing ourselves. That being said, I am thankful to have a doctor that does back me up. Though Dr. Diamond didn’t have a straight answer for me about my jaw, she held my hand, looked me into the eye and said, “Hadley, you are not crazy. This is real. We’ve witnessed it. I’m sorry I don’t have an answer for you, but you are anything but crazy.” Do you know how many years I have begged for a doctor to tell me that? Three solid years. Nothing about HM is fair to any of us, but I am SO thankful to have a community to back me up, even if they’re behind a computer screen.

So, again I ask, how? How in the world does a disease ending in “migraine” make me hurt, make me vomit, make me confused, make me blind, make me have seizures, make my body stroke out, make my jaw lock? How? We are begging for answers. We are doing more than our fair share of research. We need answers. Until then, thank goodness for support groups. Until then, we will stay thankful that we are not the only person in the world fighting through this.

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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!

    

Posted in Beating Hemiplegic Migraine, Chronic Migraine, Daily Migraine, Health Blog, Hemiplegic Migraine, Seizures, Today I Win, Uncategorized

Mom and Hadley take Chicago!

We survived getting to the big city all by ourselves! My dad sent us off with farewell grunts as he lifted our suite cases out of the car. For the record, mine weighed three pounds less than my mom’s so she carries big bags too(Casey and Sally😉)!Of course our plane was delayed an hour after we went through security and then another hour and a half once we got on the plane. Frustrating!! We were a little worried how me and flying would mix, but I only put on one small show for the crowd. Once we landed and got our luggage Mom was too scared to flag a taxi so we hopped on a shuttle. What was supposed to be a hours ride to the hotel in downtown Chicago took us two and a half hours. If you know my mom….everyone must’ve been running on her time clock that day. 😉 As we battled the front desk with messed up reservations my mom discovered she’d left the folder with all of my forms for the doctor visit on the plane. We finally got everything straightened out and headed up to our room….on the 13th floor of course. We don’t travel in any other style! 


Through the waiting in tight spaces on the plane, to standing forever and again being in tight spaces with a crying baby during our shuttle adventure, and then through the mix ups, my body gave it it’s best shot. I hung in there…at some points I don’t know how. Easily fatigued Hadley plus a day full of travel aren’t exactly meant to be. But we managed. We missed all meals during the day so decided to walk down the block for my first run in with Chicago deep dish style pizza! I gagged the first bite in and settled for garlic bread and veggies instead. We walked the blocks of downtown Chicago where I learned many things!-
1- this girl’s too anxious for big city livin 
2- don’t mark your spot with a Starbucks…there is literally one on every corner
3- the city stinks. Bad.
4- Chicago goes out of their way for the “typical white girl”….everything in Trader Joes is pumpkin spice flavored 

5- Chicago runs on Pepsi products no Dr.Pepper is not okay.



Patience is ones greatest virtue

~Had