Oct. 1, 2012
It was a cold and gloomy morning on our way to the hospital. My hair was as black as the night and damp from running through the Autumn rain. As we waited in the waiting room I’m feeling alone and lost. It was then that I began asking God why. Why do I have to go through this again? Why can't you allow me to die this time?
An older lady with a long grey sweater calls out my name. She's standing at the end of the room in front of the last registration office of the hallway. I stand up and look back at Andy, who is oblivious that my name was even called. I turn back towards the room and walk to the lady. She smiles and tells me that she's the one who'll be checking me in and gathering my insurance info.
It seems like forever while she's gathering my information. She tells me the room number that I'll be staying in and makes me repeat my personal information to her to make sure she's got the right person. She then goes on to ask me what seems like a million questions about why I am there, and what Lyme Disease is.. what it does... what the symptoms are. I calmly and respectfully answer every question to the best of my ability, even though the last thing I want to think about is why I am there.
When the questions are all through, she picks up the phone and calls for another woman to come and talk to me. As quick as she hung up the phone a blonde middle aged woman in a white lab coat steps into the tiny cubicle registration office. I notice a ring on her finger the size of her wrinkling hand and a concerned smile on her face as she approaches me. She sits next to me in the chair where Andy was supposed to be sitting, and explains to me that she is anesthesiologist who will be mixing my particular dosage and keep me stabilized during the procedure. She then goes on to ask me a million and one questions as the lady before her did about Lyme Disease and what my symptoms are.. Her questions, unlike the lady in grey, were much more in depth and serious. All the same though I didn't really feel like talking about the reason why I was there, or the reason why I was going through anything. Aggravated, I answer her questions short and sweet. After the last question was asked her face grew more serious. Less cheery. More concerned. She looks at me and says quietly, "I'm actually asking you these questions about Lyme for a more personal reason..." She pauses and then continues.. "My husband was diagnosed with Lyme. He was sent to Vanderbilt hospital but the infectious disease told him that he cannot contract Lyme if he hasn't recently been out of the country. I'm not sure what to do because he's really sick and.. and nobody will treat him." I then laughed lightly because Vanderbilt turned me away as well. For all of the 20 years of having this Vanderbilt has stuck by the CDC and lied. Lied about all of it to save their own asses. Lied and sent people, like myself, out to die.
I turn to the lady in white with a more serious look... I tell her not to worry, but that she needs to take my advice. I give her the name and numbers to my 2 lyme doctors that I have. I tell her a little bit more about lyme and the controversy, which is why her husband is having a hard time finding treatments. I tell her that her husband needs proper treatments, or that he won't get better... but then I give her hope and say that as long as she takes my advice, as long as she takes him to one of these doctors who WILL treat him properly, he will be fine. And I ended it saying that I can't stand the thought of allowing another soul to go through the hell I have been through... am going through..
I see the relief on her face. I see the hope. I see the excitement that she is going to be able to find help for her husband. For that brief moment that she thanks me right before walking out, she looks into my eyes. Our eyes meet and I see so much deeper into her. I see that I really have truly just helped someone else who has this. And right then and there, I think, if I had never stepped into that hospital that morning.. if I had never gone to have surgery.. if I wasn't sick still, I would have never been able to help this man. And I feel so deep inside of myself once more that, this is what I am here to do. I am here on this Earth to suffer. I am here to go through this. But its not going to go to waste. All of the pain that I go through will be used to help others. I will be able to help others with this. And at that point, as another nurse takes my arm and walks me up to the 6th floor to my room... I am okay.
I am okay with this.
I know that this is where I am supposed to be right then and there.
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I’m abruptly awoken to the sound of nurses scrambling around my bed. What’s going on? Is what I wanted to say, but the lingering anesthesia in my system kept me quiet.
The more I came to, the more I began to realize what was going on around me. My body was shaking uncontrollably in the bed and I had a nurse holding me as still as she could onto my left side. I made an attempt to make eye contact with one of the nurses so that she would notice that I was conscious. As soon as she noticed me she began questioning me. I saw her lips move in the same movement over and over but no sound yet came out. I kept watching as best as I could around the convulsions of my body and finally started to hear what she was repeating to me.
“Are you having a seizure?? Is this one of your Lyme seizures??”
It was then that I completely came to as if I had never been asleep at all. I glanced down at my hands which were crippled near my chin. On the right of me was an older nurse pushing down on my arm and waste trying to hold me still.
I looked back at the nurse who asked me the question and remembered the questions they had asked me before putting me under anesthesia.
You see, when you’re being put under by anesthesia the anesthesiologist is obligated to ask you if you are at more of a risk for certain complications. Having seizures is one of them…. Well, I’d never been one to have seizures until recently so I played it off pretty cool. I told them that I had them rarely, but that they were due to the Lyme.
I guess I may have fibbed a little when I said that they were rare…. Ha.
“Yes” I squeaked out while I attempted to nod my head but failing miserably as it shook all over. Yes, I was having a seizure. How embarrassing… Right when I was hoping that everything would go smoothly.
I almost feel like I shouldn’t have told her. I mean, I think it was pretty obvious at that point what was happening with me but when I confirmed it I swear 5 more nurses came over to my bedside to help. Awesome….. Not.
Each one of them was pestering me with questions.
*Just an FYI for nurses.. Please don’t pester someone while they’re having a seizure. It’s hard enough to talk. Try to make eye contact or contact through body language.*
“What does it feel like?” the nurse asked. The same nurse who asked me if I was having a seizure…. Was she new at this?
“Like my brain is melting out of my ears” I responded.
“ICE! Get this girl some ice!!!!” she yelled.
FINALLY. Someone is taking some action. Don’t just stand around and play the questions game with me all day…
It wasn’t long after a cold ice pack was placed onto the back of my neck that the convulsions stopped completely. At that point I was too tired to speak anymore of it. I was too tired to answer questions. I was too tired to explain why. And I just closed my eyes and waited to be wheeled back to my room. Up the elevators and around the corner to room 610.
