Another day
So today is another day, lol. Forgive me please if you don't like "text speak" I know it can be irritating, but I tend to lol quite a bit. Ok, so where did I leave off? Oh right...the birth and babyhood of son #2. So like I was saying, he was a super easy baby, my reward for my losses I suppose. We dabbled with the idea of just one more after I had chickened out on the tubal but kept saying that this baby had ruined it for any future babies because he was such an easy kid. Nursed well, slept well, was always happy.
Along about the time he was 18 months old or so I started to get super tired, super easy. Like washing the dishes wore me out. My dr assumed it was the fibro and put me on a med that not only made me completely loopy, but made me gain about 35 pounds in just over a month. It was awful. I stopped taking it, but I still felt just awful. My husband had to go to Oregon to work for a month and I was left at home alone with 3 kids by myself. My family was of very little help, remember my mom was not thrilled with my having another kid and her husband was quite the dick about it.
I managed the kids ok, falling into bed every night and sleeping as much as I could with an almost 2 year old in my bed. When he got home, I still felt like complete shit. Had a stomach ache I couldn't get rid of. I figured I had ulcers again, something that happens to me a lot. I was wrong. My computer at the time was in my bedroom, at the opposite end of our house from the living room where my (finally home from Oregon) hubby and 3 kids were watching the tube. As I sat there, I felt just off. My chest hurt, I couldn't breathe, my stomach was bloated and felt like it was on fire and I was beyond dizzy. I couldn't muster the strength at the moment to call out to my hubby, so my internet addicted ass went on web md symptom checker and typed everything in. It came up with a CALL 911 warning. I stumbled out to the living room and told my hubby I felt really wrong and to please call 911. It was an awful moment. I was still nursing my little guy and had literally never left him for longer than a shower.
When the medics got to my house they immediately asked my husband about my drug use. Now, I am not a crack head but since I live in a high meth head area, they assumed I was spun out on meth. Don't get me wrong, I love my pot, but I stopped snorting things before I was a mom. So my hubby had to stand there, being accused of being a drug addict while I felt like I was dying. My brother died of sudden cardiac arrest when he was 32 so because of a family history, my dr SHOULD have looked for cardiac issues and NEVER did.
They did and EKG and the medic asks me if I've ever been told I have an irregular EKG. Nope, I've never even had an EKG before I tell him. And that was that, I was rushed off lights and sirens to the ER. They asked me history and rushed me into an angiogram where they discovered that I had an extremely enlarged heart and diagnosed me with dilated cardiomyopathy and congestive heart failure. They put me on a shit ton of meds and sent me home after I was stable 5 days later. I had to stop nursing my little one and I was absolutely crushed. I spiraled into a depression like I had never known. Nothing compared to what I felt. So alone, so scared, so weak.
About a month later, I was home alone with the little one, the big ones off at school. I suddenly felt like I had run a marathon. Out of breath, heart racing and very very dizzy. The next thing I remember is my almost 2 year old leaning over me saying "mama? mama?". Thankfully, my hubby had an early day and pulled up within a few minutes of that. He again called 911, and off again I went lights and sirens. I ended up being sent to a hospital in LA to have an electrophysiology study done and come to find out, I had not one cardiac issue, but two. I also have Brugada syndrome. An extremely rare electrical problem that's genetic. Probably what killed my brother. I went home with an ICD (internal defibrillator). Then another new chapter in my life began. I think I'll take a break here, and perhaps post again later today if I have time. Until next time!
J
Along about the time he was 18 months old or so I started to get super tired, super easy. Like washing the dishes wore me out. My dr assumed it was the fibro and put me on a med that not only made me completely loopy, but made me gain about 35 pounds in just over a month. It was awful. I stopped taking it, but I still felt just awful. My husband had to go to Oregon to work for a month and I was left at home alone with 3 kids by myself. My family was of very little help, remember my mom was not thrilled with my having another kid and her husband was quite the dick about it.
I managed the kids ok, falling into bed every night and sleeping as much as I could with an almost 2 year old in my bed. When he got home, I still felt like complete shit. Had a stomach ache I couldn't get rid of. I figured I had ulcers again, something that happens to me a lot. I was wrong. My computer at the time was in my bedroom, at the opposite end of our house from the living room where my (finally home from Oregon) hubby and 3 kids were watching the tube. As I sat there, I felt just off. My chest hurt, I couldn't breathe, my stomach was bloated and felt like it was on fire and I was beyond dizzy. I couldn't muster the strength at the moment to call out to my hubby, so my internet addicted ass went on web md symptom checker and typed everything in. It came up with a CALL 911 warning. I stumbled out to the living room and told my hubby I felt really wrong and to please call 911. It was an awful moment. I was still nursing my little guy and had literally never left him for longer than a shower.
When the medics got to my house they immediately asked my husband about my drug use. Now, I am not a crack head but since I live in a high meth head area, they assumed I was spun out on meth. Don't get me wrong, I love my pot, but I stopped snorting things before I was a mom. So my hubby had to stand there, being accused of being a drug addict while I felt like I was dying. My brother died of sudden cardiac arrest when he was 32 so because of a family history, my dr SHOULD have looked for cardiac issues and NEVER did.
They did and EKG and the medic asks me if I've ever been told I have an irregular EKG. Nope, I've never even had an EKG before I tell him. And that was that, I was rushed off lights and sirens to the ER. They asked me history and rushed me into an angiogram where they discovered that I had an extremely enlarged heart and diagnosed me with dilated cardiomyopathy and congestive heart failure. They put me on a shit ton of meds and sent me home after I was stable 5 days later. I had to stop nursing my little one and I was absolutely crushed. I spiraled into a depression like I had never known. Nothing compared to what I felt. So alone, so scared, so weak.
About a month later, I was home alone with the little one, the big ones off at school. I suddenly felt like I had run a marathon. Out of breath, heart racing and very very dizzy. The next thing I remember is my almost 2 year old leaning over me saying "mama? mama?". Thankfully, my hubby had an early day and pulled up within a few minutes of that. He again called 911, and off again I went lights and sirens. I ended up being sent to a hospital in LA to have an electrophysiology study done and come to find out, I had not one cardiac issue, but two. I also have Brugada syndrome. An extremely rare electrical problem that's genetic. Probably what killed my brother. I went home with an ICD (internal defibrillator). Then another new chapter in my life began. I think I'll take a break here, and perhaps post again later today if I have time. Until next time!
J
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