I was a healthy woman who had just turned thirty, spending my time between caring for my toddler and working in my art studio. This all changed in a single weekend. My daughter was acting sick and I had a sore throat. She recovered in two days, but I did not. Instead, I suddenly began to feel very exhausted and nauseated. I thought I might have the flu or strep throat, and thought I would be placed on some medication and rest for an easy recovery.
On May 18, 2008, I decided to go to the ER in the middle of the night because I couldn’t stop vomiting and had a fever of 104. As soon as I arrived at the hospital it became apparent that I was much more ill than I ever imagined. After a few hours of tests they admitted me to the intensive care unit for sepsis and pneumonia. For two days I fought the illness with oxygen masks and medication as the pneumonia quickly spread throughout my lungs. It became apparent that I needed to be placed on tracheal intubation.
I was heavily sedated and highly medicated; the ventilator was placed at 100% in order to keep the oxygen in my blood at a safe level. I was in critical condition and underwent a blood transfusion. After a few days they were able to decrease my oxygen to 40% and I became relatively responsive and would squeeze a finger or blink my eyes for communication. There were many ups and downs and no one knew how long I would have to be intubated, but my family was told it would be weeks rather than days. My family decided to involve me in an ARDS research study where they gave me an experimental drug that might lessen the time spent on the intubator.
After 11 days on the intubator, my lungs had improved enough that they decided to extubate me. I breathed well for thirty minutes, but soon it became more difficult to breathe because of the swelling of my larynx. The doctors quickly placed me back on the ventilator and started me on steroids to decrease the swelling. If the swelling did not go down within a few days I would need to get a tracheotomy. While in this holding pattern I became less sedated and a bit more aware of what was going on around me, but still very confused about where I was. After a few more days on the tube, my breathing improved and the steroids seemed to have taken down the swelling in my throat.
On April 3, 2008 they removed the tube and I was able to breathe on my own. This was a very exciting and traumatic time for me and for my family. I was extremely delirious and was laughing one minute and crying the next. I was very confused about where I was and very afraid. Not only was I disoriented, but I began going through withdrawal symptoms from the heavy medications I had been on while intubated. These withdrawal episodes where horrific and unlike anything I had ever felt before. I was hallucinating and having terrible nightmares for days. Unable to distinguish reality from the surrealism that surrounded me, I was terrified and slept little more than a few hours a day. However, despite all of the mental issues I was going through, my body was recovering and I was moved from the ICU to regular care.
Because I had been lying in bed for two and a half weeks, my muscles were very weak. I was unable to take even one step at first. But with time I was able to take a few steps and within days I was walking the halls of the hospital. I was determined to rehabilitate my muscles and get out of the hospital as soon as possible. However, another concern that had to be addressed before I was to be released was my swallowing reflex. Swallow studies were performed to determine what I was ready to eat. At first it was only small ice cubes. I was then put on a soft liquid diet for a few days, and finally, I could eat regular food.
My body was on the road to recovery but my thoughts were out of control. I was still having irrational fears and was unable to relax until I was sent home, and able to meet with my psychiatrist who prescribed some helpful anti-psychosis drugs. Though the irrational fears continued for weeks, at last I was able to sleep. And after only a few days the hallucinations stopped along with the withdrawal symptoms.
After 21 days in the hospital, I was now faced with the long-term recovery from ARDS. I have been dealing with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and rebuilding my muscle strength. The Doctors at the University of Michigan saved my life and my mental health professionals are making my life better every day. My community gathered around me and my family during this time; all of their thoughts, prayers, and love for which I’m enormously grateful, gave me the strength to fight this terrible illness.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
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