unbreak my heart


It’s been an interesting 24 hours!

Last night around 9:30, I started to wheeze. I decided that the time was as good as it was ever going to get, so I asked Ed to take me to the ER in North Vancouver (closest one to our place). We got there around 10pm, and settled in for a long, long night of waiting.

Blood was drawn and x-rays were taken and the doctor determined that they couldn’t determine anything other than the fact that what I have is definitely not asthma. My blood was showing something, but more testing was needed to figure out what. They discharged us at 3am, and told me to be back at 7am for a CT scan. Okay then!

The ER visit itself wasn’t going all that well, because before we left the house I threw up .. which made all the rattling stop. As expected, when the doctor listened to my lungs, there was nothing amiss. Luckily (I guess) I had another barf attack at 2am, and violently and loudly threw up in the triage bathroom. This was enough to make the doctors say “wtf is that”, and soon after I was told I needed to come back in 4 hours. As shitty as that was, I was actually thrilled .. they were listening to me. They knew something was wrong. They weren’t going to send me home to keep an eye on things for myself. Praise Jeebus!

So, home. I managed to get onto the couch around 4am, and slept fitfully/sweatily for an hour before I had to get up and head back to the hospital. I took a cab so Ed could get more sleep, and checked myself in for some CT scans and bonus vein trauma. My veins have always been dicks when it comes to getting blood drawn or IVs inserted or my next fix, but today they were brutal. It took 7? needles, an IV technician, and finally the old standby – a baby needle in the back of the hand – to get anything in or out of me. I’m covered in bruises and sticky residue from my elbows to knuckles.

The CT scan was interesting, what with the injection that makes you feel like you’re peeing yourself, but when it was done they propped me up in a chair to await my fate. It was handed down soon afterward. The good news: there were no blood clots in my lungs. Hooray!

The bad news: heart failure.

The doctor was quick to assure me that “heart failure” is really a catch-all term for anything wrong with the heart that isn’t out-and-out cardiac arrest. Basically, all my symptoms were being caused by my heart not operating at 100%, which caused fluid to back up, which made my lungs work harder, which made it hard to catch my breath, and so on. I was going to be sent for an echolocation and an ultrasound, and we would see what was happening. Also, I’m pretty young and all, so do I want them to do everything possible to save me if it gets to that? Yes, that would be lovely, thank you. I understand it’s a routine question, but HOLY JESUS WHY.

I had the tests done, I ate my hospital lunch, and .. I don’t have any other news. I’m in the hospital overnight, as I have yet to talk to the heart doctor to find out what the bat test and ultrasound showed. I’m clammy and bored and don’t want to be here .. but at the same time, I DO want to be here. I’m almost giddy with relief that the doctors and nurses listened to me and realized something was wrong and ordered the tests that could solve this once and for all. The nurses here have been amazingly nice, I’m fully connected to the outside world thanks to Ed bringing my laptop and Renee working her wifi magic, and I’ve already had awesome visitors bearing flowers and sparkly pandas riding unicorns. Yes, I’m uncomfortable and filthy and they keep pumping my IV full of stuff that makes me pee the universe and wish I was at home, but I’m being taken care of and that’s all that really matters right now.

I haven’t spent the night in the hospital since I was 5 and had my tail removed. This is really weird.

More details when I get them, but for now, I’m #stillalive.

4 thoughts on “unbreak my heart

  1. Jesus, Kimli. I wish you a definitive diagnosis, the strength to deal with it, and better health to come from all this crap. Good luck with the crinkly beds, stiff sheets, and crunchy hospital pillows… the wilted, faded gowns, skinned sweet potato slippers, and your new best friends: stained ceiling tiles.

    Gosh, I hope you’re out already. Remain awesome,


  2. So glad you’re safe and will hopefully get some answers and treatment that gets you better, honey. Take care, and thanks for sharing what’s happening. I’ll be thinking of you.

  3. Pingback: looking back | delicious juice dot com: unapologetically inappropriate

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