Hospitalized

I was relieved to be admitted. I was beginning to doubt my ability to care for myself at home. The downward trajectory of my health had been very gradual. At aged 74 I thought it was “old age”. Morning naps, afternoon naps that evolved to most of the day in bed sleeping.

The chills and fever started after six to eight weeks into my decline. My fever would go up about 11:30 am and break about 4:00 am. Not high fevers, 100.2 rising to 101.4 by the end of the week.

I saw my nurse practitioner on Thursday. She called on Friday asking me to go in for a chest x-ray. Then she left another message asking me to get “Blood Cultures” at Urgent Care. I didn’t get the blood culture message until I returned home. I was too tired and it was too late to return to the Infirmary. I checked with my Doctor son and we thought I could wait until Monday.

By Sunday afternoon I was feeling sick enough to call my son and ask him to take me to the Emergency Room.

When we arrived it became apparent that we were in for a long wait. I told him to go home and I would let him know whether to pick me up or bring my suitcase back.

It was about 2:00 pm.
“ You won’t get to your bed until 11:00 pm.” He said.
“ That’s OK. I don’t have anything else to do.”

I was placed in a cubical and a Nurse started by doing my vital signs. An ER Doctor interviewed me. Blood was drawn and I was told I was being admitted. I was told my lungs were clear but that I had a low platelet count and that they were doing blood cultures.

I was placed in a room with two other women, both in their 90’s. I looked at them, one non-responsive and the other diagnosed with Lung Cancer.

“I don’t want to end up like this.”

I was having blood drawn 4-6 times a day and being wheeled on a gurney to the basement for Ultra-sounds, X-ray, a CAT scan, with contrast.

The hospital is a teaching hospital so I had a team of Doctors, an Intern, an “Attending” then the two specialists, from Hematology and Infectious Diseases.

The Hematologist mentioned drawing a “bone marrow” referring to my history of Breast Cancer, Chemo therapy and radiation. The ID guy wanted to know if I had been any place that had endemic Malaria.

By this time my son Caleb, a doctor at Beth Israel Hospital was consulting with my Doctors and telling me what was going on.

I had an enlarged spleen, very low platelets and the blood smears showed a parasite in my red blood cells. The Infectious Disease Doctor Tully started me on two antibiotics. I began to feel better the next day. My fever was gone. I could get a deep breath. One complaint I had had for more than a month was the feeling that I couldn’t get a “full” breath.
I thought I would be going home soon and asked to be transferred to the infirmary at MIT, my choice for any recovery.

My Intern, Dr. Cox, appeared and said they were transferring me to “Telemetry”. It seems my Atrial Fibrillation was not well controlled and Caleb told me I had some “inverted T waves” and they were afraid I was having a heart attack. They wanted to monitor me and do “six sets of Cardiac Enzymes”. My poor left arm looked like a war zone from all the times I had been “stuck”. My right arm was off limits because of some edema in my right hand, a result of surgery for breast CA.

I was packed up. Put in a wheelchair and taken down to the 4th floor. Dr. Cox said he had tried to get me on the 3d floor but there were no beds. I was wheeled into a room with one empty bed, the other two were occupied by Alzheimer’s patients. One was quiet and docile sitting in her chair. The other was being watched by a woman, hired for the purpose, who had the TV over my bed going full blast and talking to another “Watcher” from across the hall, whose patient was down stairs for tests.

It was as though I had landed in a mad house. The patient across from me kept saying loudly, “Why am I here? What’s wrong with me.” She had pulled her IV out at least twice and so had to be watched.” She didn’t get much attention from her caretaker until her son and husband arrived.

She turned her attention to them. “You just want to get rid of me. You have a girlfriend and just wanted me out of the house. What’s wrong with me? Why am I here?”

I wanted to shout, “You have Alzheimer’s!”

My Doctor son, Caleb came in and Dr. Cox came down to talk with him.

“ Get me out of here. This is a nightmare.” I said.
“ We’ll see what we can do. This is the time people go home.”

Within 10 minutes a nurse appeared and said, “We’re moving you. It is a private room with a view of the Charles River.”

I felt there had been an intercession by God. She had reached down and saved me.

It was decided that I had contracted Babesia a tick born parasite related to Malaria. My Cardiac enzymes were negative. My Cardiologist adjusted my medications and my heart rate slowed down. I had been in the hospital for a week and in the MIT Infirmary for three days.

This was my first experience with my own mortality, very frightening and humbling. I was stunned with how suddenly you can go from feeling competent and strong to thinking about Assisted Living.

I have made my peace with my primary job, taking care of myself. I’m feeling stronger every day. I am in touch with my Gratitude.