Eight and a half hours after first arriving at the hospital, I am wheeled up to the ICU. I am grateful fatigue prevents me from reacting to my surroundings...otherwise I am sure I would have been sobbing and screaming, "No, no!!! Please let me go home!" But, instead, I silently sit on the gurney, holding on to my ventilator as two nurses zip me down hospital hallways.
When I arrive in my ICU cubicle, it is the same old, same old routine--a nursing assistant records my vitals, a respiratory therapist records my ventilator settings, the nurse asks a multitude of questions to register me, etc. I sit in a state of pain and bewilderment. I start asking myself "Why am I here? If this was a "typical" reaction to IVIG, why have I been admitted to the hospital?" I try to still my mind, but I am annoyed that it is once again Friday night (Shabbat), and once again I am in the hospital. I apologize to God for not being able to observe Shabbat. Shabbat is supposed to be a day of rest. How can one rest when stuck in a busy ICU? The internet is too slow to play streaming video, recorded video or even YouTube. How can I observe Shabbat without being able to at least virtually attend a Shabbat service? I am grief-stricken. But soon, a delayed reaction to the IVIG consumes me in pain.
I am gripped in a tight ball of agony. It feels as though I have slammed my head into a brick wall. I cannot move my neck, and my GI tract is exploding in pain. I beg and plead for pain medicines. Slowly over two hours, I am given small doses of narcotics. After several visits from the ICU clinician, he decides the best way to treat my pain is to sedate me into unconsciousness. Normally, I would protest this plan of action. However, it has been an extremely long ordeal, and my mind is overwrought with the events from the day. I welcome anything which will push me into dreamland. A large dose of Ativan is given and IV Precedex is administered. Soon, I am swept off to slumberland.
The next day, a neurologist visits me. He says how concerned he was about my IVIG reaction. He called my symptoms "a severe reaction" and "an anaphylactic reaction". He said I should NEVER have another IVIG infusion done again at an infusion center. But perhaps if there was a strong indication that IVIG would be beneficial, I might be able to try IVIG again with the use of lots of immunosuppressants and being done under very close supervision by a physician. However, even with using all those precautions, he was not sure I should ever have IVIG done as I might have an even worse reaction the second time. (I was amused that this physician's advice was the opposite of the ED doctor's counsel. The ED doctor seemed apathetic toward my reaction and subsequent symptoms. This clinician made it sound as though I was on the brink of death and am lucky to be alive.)
The neurologist went on to say the reason I was admitted to the hospital was to ensure I did not have any additional flare-ups from a delayed reaction to the IVIG. The IVIG will stay in your body for up to several days until your body is able to clear it. It is necessary to keep me in the hospital until he felt I was safe to go home. Upon hearing the doctor's words, I was suddenly very grateful to be in the hospital. After the delayed pain attack the night before, it was calming to know God was keeping me safe by having me admitted to the hospital.
(Link to Part Five click here)
No comments:
Post a Comment