As I gaze at my ventilator, I wonder if the respiration rate is accurate. Forty-four breaths per minute. Can that be right? I watch as my chest frantically rises and falls. Why is my breathing so fast? Breathing should be easy now that I have a trach and am on the assisted control ventilator settings. In, out, in, out, in, out. Over and over again my body fights; it races to get a quick gulp of air. I try to hold my breath. "Ok. I am tired. I need to rest. Hold your breath and slow down your breathing." I use as much energy and muscle control as I can muster. Holding breath, holding breath...suddenly my body breaks out into a frantic panic. 65...70...75...80...84 breaths per minute. My ventilator trips out and pauses. My respiratory muscles strain and fight to breathe against the paused ventilator. After a few minutes, my breathing and the ventilaor sync back up. Now my breathing is at 60-65 breaths per minute. For the next 90 minutes my breathing continues to be a frantic chaos of breaths. Finally, my breathing begins to settle back down. Soon, it is back in the 40's.
Despite my disdain for hospitals, I am again back in the intensive care unit. Tests have been run. Everything has come back negative. I use all my medical knowledge and ingenious Internet search phrases to look for possible answers to my breathing difficulties. Like my doctors, I, too, am at a loss. Another night I spend hooked up to monitors and machines. Another night of trying to figure out my medical mystery. Praying for answers. "Cast your burden upon the LORD, and He shall sustain you. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved" (Psalm 55:22).
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