Who knew?

 

For several months, I have been struggling with health issues. It all seemed to begin last August, when out of the blue I came down with a case of sciatica. It was the worst case I have ever had. There was fire in my leg and no amount of stretching or exercise would help. After a few days and a few visits to urgent care, I noticed that my right foot (same side as the sciatica) was swollen. 

This time I went to the ER, where I was diagnosed with Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT), which essentially means I had a blood clot in my right lower leg. I was given a prescription for anticoagulants to prevent further clots, and sent on my way. 

Eventually, I was able to get relief from the pain in my leg by visiting, perhaps, the world's best chiropractor. He diagnosed the cause of the sciatica as a spasm in a little tiny muscle in my hip called the pyriformis muscle. Two quick treatments with TENS and ultrasound, and the pain began to resolve. 

Fast forward a few months: I began to notice that my stamina wasn't what it had been, and I often felt light headed when I would get up out of a chair. This progressed to the point where I felt short of breath and fatigued after the least little exertion. Along the way, I had lost my favorite primary care physician (PCP), who selfishly moved away to pursue his own little life with never a thought that I needed him. 

I began working with a new doctor, who was far less invested in my problems. When I complained of my light-headedness and fatigue, she prescribed statin drugs, which are typically prescribed for high cholesterol, in spite of the fact that my cholesterol levels typically run low. 

After I made enough noise, she ordered a cardiac monitor, which I wore for a month 24/7.  I had also complained of some visual aberrations and was referred to ophthalmology. Dr. O, the ophthalmologist, who is very thorough, ordered an MRI of my brain, to rule out cerebral aneurysm. That came out normal. When the results of my cardiac monitoring came back, the cardiologist said everything looked normal. 

I kept trying to think of other things that could be tested. By now, I think the new doctor thought I was a kook. She stopped replying to my emails and instead had other doctors or nurses reply. I got so frustrated that I became rather passive-aggressive and decided to just "live with it." 

Finally, the symptoms worsened to the point where I needed someone who could figure out what was going on. I found a new PCP who took a real interest in my symptoms. He got me right in for an exam that included extensive blood work. The results came in late the same day. That was last Friday: I am anemic, my white blood cell count is elevated, and my blood platelet count is alarmingly low. I was advised to go directly to the ER.

If you've ever been to an Emergency Room/Department, you know it is an agonizing process to wait your turn as all the other people, who seem to believe their problem is worse than yours, get called in one by one for their turns. We arrived at the ER about 4:45PM. At around 9:00pm, after x-rays and blood draws and a urine sample, I was finally placed in an examining room. The ER physician came in promptly and took my history. She returned a short while later and said that the pathologist had looked at my blood samples and found abnormal white cells. She said, "It looks like it could be leukemia." 

After Jill and I had taken a moment to gasp and try to take in this impossible information, the doctor said she was going to admit me, but there was a wait for a room to be ready. It was after midnight when we were finally settled into the room. Then began a night of taking my vital signs (CNA), doing assessments (RN) and taking more blood samples (phlebotomist).  I had no idea that so many blood samples could be taken and the well not run dry!

The staff was wonderful. I felt as if I were visiting royalty. Jessica, the RN who came on duty at 7AM was so efficient, professional, and at the same time sweet and engaging, that she quickly won our hearts. She treated Jill with as much care as she did me. As I reflect on that 8 or 9 hours that we were there, I can't believe it was such a short period. I received a transfusion of red blood cells, which made a huge difference in my light-headedness and shortness of breath. I even made a couple of laps around the hospital floor. 

Because we live in Dallas, Oregon, and Kaiser Permanente, our health coverage provider, does not have a hospital nearby, the above scenarios took place at Salem Hospital, with which Kaiser has an arrangement for just such situations. In the end, though, Kaiser would have me transferred to their Sunnyside hospital, which is a bit more than an hour from home. 

When the time came for me to make the transition, an EMT came into my room. I was sitting fully clothed in the recliner in my room. I got up to greet him, and he said, "Are you Tom?" Now this was said as if he was surprised, nay dumbfounded, to see a well-looking man greet him. He excused himself and went out to the nurses' station. When he came back, he said, "I thought there was a mistake. I was expecting someone barely alive. You look great." 

"Thanks," I replied. He thanked me and said this was going to be the easiest run of the day, for which he was grateful. The time came for us to leave, and Jill and I bid a literally teary farewell to Jessica. 

I sent Jill home so she could get a good rest and help Tara, our eldest, celebrate her 43rd birthday. Meanwhile, I had a nice ride in an ambulance from Salem to Sunnyside. Since my condition was stable, there was nothing for the EMTs to do, so I had a lovely chat with the fellow who rode in the back with me. He did take some vital signs (by now, I think I must be the most vital person in America), but mostly we chatted about his career and mine and hobbies and the heat. (It was 106 degrees when we got to Sunnyside). 

I was trundled to my room, 455, where I was greeted by Morgan the RN charged with my care. She got me settled in, did my assessment and then had a nice long chat with me. She and Jessica are cut from the same cloth. Morgan is efficient and professional, but warm and engaging. I felt as if I were with family, being treated like royalty...again. God bless the nursing profession. 

About 9 PM, the admitting physician came in to get me oriented and let me know what the game plan includes. Today, the hematologist, Dr. Mansoor, came in for a consultation. He had reviewed my chart and remarked how healthy I am, other than the blood dyscrasias. "Yes," I said, "I'm disgustingly healthy for someone who is so sick." He said I can expect to get a bone marrow biopsy tomorrow, which will provide a definitive diagnosis. Then I will have a consultation with the oncologist who, I hope, will be able to answer my remaining questions. After that, I expect to be started on chemotherapy.

So, I have been at Sunnyside for about 16 hours now. I got a really good sleep last night. I've had at least four or five blood draws and a similar number of "assessments," which amount to listening to heart and lungs and doing a visual scan for signs of change in my condition. The staff are all wonderful; even Jason, the RN who awakened me at 5 AM from a sleep so deep that I was disoriented and incoherent. When Morgan returned for the day shift, Jason brought me a cup of coffee. I have therefore forgiven him for the rude awakening!!

Jill will be here soon. I was able to have a shower and a lovely breakfast. So, I am ready for a visit from my true love. Stay tuned for further details.