After meeting with the oncologist and having a plan, it was time to get a port placed so that I could receive chemotherapy. This was a bit nerve wracking for me, and it was making things all the more real. But…I was positive as this was a step closer to kicking butt. The day I went in for the port placement, my husband was by my side the entire way. I was nervous as I was to undergo deep sedation for the procedure and being in the medical field, all I could think about was getting snowed and winding up intubated. I have hardly ever had any pain medication or sedation in my life (the only time being when I had two minor procedures performed years ago). What if I had an airway problem? What if my blood pressure bottomed out? The staff at the treatment center were amazing and I was put at ease with these minor worries. They had me put a gown on- and of course, I put it on backwards by mistake. I had the most amazing nurses who were kind and caring and all of my providers took the time to talk with me and to explain everything that was going to happen.
I went into the procedure room feeling calm, praying that God would guide everyone’s hands and that there would be no issues. I came out of the procedure room one port richer. I felt great. I had been educated prior to the procedure on my port and was told no lifting for three days. BUT, after the procedure, the provider told me that there was going to be no lifting for 4 weeks to ensure that it healed properly. I was not a happy camper as I wanted to resume my normal life and continue working and flying, taking care of people. I felt that this was a set back and was one more thing that was being taken from me. Thankfully, I have an amazing job that worked with me through this process. After a few days, I was okay with the process. Maybe God was teaching me to slow down and to take things one step at a time. I am a very energetic person, and sitting around with restrictions is not something that comes easily. I learned (and I am still learning) that it is okay to slow down and take things slowly.
Two days later, I was back in the treatment center for my sternal biopsy. This time, I felt much more relaxed. Again, my nurses and provider performing the procedure were great! My anesthesiologist was absolutely amazing and I actually enjoyed talking about what he was going to be doing (perhaps I am a weirdo, but I love anything related to the airway even if it means discussing my own). I prayed as I went into the procedural room that God would guide the team and that it would go well.
When I woke up in PACU I was pretty groggy but was joking around with my husband and nurse until all my doctors came walking in with an ICU doctor. From my experience as a nurse, I knew that this was not good. They explained that under my lesion the area was “mush” and that the needle went right through my sternal bone and had been right up against my heart. WAIT….WHAT?!!!!! I was assured that my vitals had remained stable and I had felt fine. I was told that to make sure my pericardial sac (sac around my heart) was not nicked, they needed me to be transferred to a hospital that had a cardiothoracic surgeon so that they could do an ECHO of my heart (an ultrasound to essentially ensure that nothing was punctured). I was still in shock. Being in the medical field, I knew all too well the significance of this and that if my pericardial sac had been nicked, I could have BIG problems. As we went through the process to obtain a bed at an appropriate hospital I wanted to go to, I was still groggy and trying to wrap my mind around this. My providers and nurses stayed very close to me during this time and watched me like a hawk. I felt fine and all my vital signs remained normal. Long story short, thanks to some amazing support from people at both of my jobs- I was able to go to a hospital that had the capabilities I required. I was treated to my first every ride in an ambulance as a patient- which, let me tell you, felt so weird being on that side of things after spending years being the paramedic. Once I was at the hospital, I again had amazing providers and nurses who took such good care of me. I know that God was in that room when that procedure was being performed- there was nothing wrong with my heart and nothing had been nicked. It is my the Grace of God that the needle came that close to my heart and there was nothing negative that came out of it.
Through my stay at the hospital, which was very brief, I was surrounded my such amazing and caring nurses and doctors. I am thankful to God that the situation was not the disaster it could have been. While the ordeal was scary, I felt that it made me trust God all the more and I was so thankful for the care I had received. I had an amazing team at the treatment center, and I know that what happened was crazy. My doctor at the treatment center talked to me and told me he was praying for me and to have faith. He and I had previously had a conversation where I had told him of the faith I have in God over the situation and procedure. When he told me that, it meant so much to me. Even at the hospital the next day before I was discharged, the cardiologist told me to “keep the faith. I was blown away by how many times I was reminded to keep the faith and to trust God. What was a difficult and scary situation just made me all the more positive and hopeful. I serve a big God. A great God. My faith, hope, and trust are in Him and Him alone. I wrap this post up with this: my trying ordeals have brought my great hope and joy that can only be found in Jesus Christ.
Forged In The Flames 