Today was a tough one, one of the worst in a while.  I know all to well that I could have it worse and that there are plenty of people out there who do.  But today was one that stretched the envelope on my own strength.  I woke up to find my PICC site bleeding heavily again.  It soaked through the dressing and leaked out of the waterproof seal and onto everything.  Seeing more blood scared the shit out of me: knowing the amount of medical crap that would follow.

This is how it started - feeling a trickle of warm blood coming out of the dressing and running down my arm into a pool on the pillow.

 And it did follow; first the on call nurse looked at it, and she refused to do anything but call an ambulance, which I refused to get into because it would route me to the nearest hospital which is not the care needed.

So we headed to a slightly further ER with better care and cued up for the fight to see if I would be admitted to the hospital.  By the time we got to the ER - I had the blood running out of the bandage and into 4 layers of gauze sponge. They have to X-ray the line - make sure it is not bleeding because you pulled it out or something, they confirm the line is working, then they clean up your crazy bloody mess, and give you a new sterile dressing.

Here I am waiting . . . . and waiting . . . .

 And waiting some more . . . Jeff fell asleep in the chair next to me - poor guy has been up all night helping me every time the IV pump alarm goes off from air in the line or an occlusion of the line.

And then they want to keep you for observation, make sure your line is working, that your gut is trying to work.  And they listen to your guts and it makes no sound, or just a high pitched whistling sound all of which cause them to all make that same worried, "I don't know what the fuck to do" face.  Then you discuss the pros and cons to being admitted.

1.  The cost I cannot afford, I would be getting exactly the same treatment, same meds and same IV and same nursing care - with less sleep for 5x the cost.

2. I would be exposed to germs that with my compromised immune system could kill me.

3. Did I mention the cost and the burden that cost places on my family?


Thank goodness I got them to listen to reason and I was released beck to home nursing care.  Back to my little room with my IV pump going beep beep beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep every 15 minutes. I came home and started that iv pump again and drifted off to sleep hoping beyond hope that I would wake in some other life.

Funny thing is that I had not stopped to look at the date until after I posted this.  It was a year and a day ago when I fell unconscious while on a PICC line and had to be resuscitated by my husband, who performed CPR until the ambulance came.  My life changed that day, it dropped to a whole other level of living with illness, and a year later I fear we have leveled up again towards the big boss battle that comes at the end of the game.