I could have told you all yesterday what was wrong with me, but really what is the fun in that? Yesterday’s post was a lot more fun than this one, trust me!
Wait a minute. Before I go any further, I have to tell you one thing. I didn’t poop my pants!!
First, here’s what happened at work… I went to work and felt relatively ok. I got a patient ready for surgery, and then I was recovering another patient when I started feeling strange. The entire left side of my face was numb, I was dizzy, and I had a bad headache. When I started going over the patient’s discharge instructions, I couldn’t do it. I know these instructions by heart because they’re the same for every patient, and I’ve been doing it for 6 years. But, like I said, I couldn’t do it. I could read the paper, and I wasn’t confused, but I couldn’t say the words.
I went and found my boss, and that’s when nurse are-you-losing-a-lot-of-fluids also assessed me. After her assessment, said nurse diagnosed me with Bell’s Palsy. To which my boss said, “I know Bell’s Palsy, and she doesn’t have Bell’s Palsy!”
So, I sat down in a chair for awhile, drank some water, ate some crackers…and felt worse. I finally agreed to have someone call Shawn to pick me up, but I protested going to the ER the whole time. At some point one of the anesthesiologists came out and talked to me and then called the ER to tell them I was coming. (Did I miss something? I thought I said I wasn’t going?)
Longish story short, Shawn finally showed up, he took me to the hospital where there was a flurry of activity because they wanted to make sure I wasn’t having a stroke. I had a CT scan, talked to an annoying neurologist, took a Xanax, and was then transferred to another hospital.
The second hospital looked something like this: admitted to super awesome private room with a flat screen TV and a huge bathroom, went for an echocardiogram, ate crappy dinner quickly because nurse OMG-I-Can’t-Believe-You’re-A-Nurse was pushing Ativan as fast as she could in my IV so I could go for the MRI/MRA, came back from MRI to find someone had left me delicious cookies, my fabulous husband and kids brought me Qdoba to eat, I attempted to sleep but was awakened all night for God knows what, woke up and took a shower, argued with a new neurologist about what my Lyrica dosage was, and then went home.
Phew! Does that answer all your questions? Good.
Oh wait. What was wrong with me?
Again, long story short, the headache and speech thing-a-ma-jig were diagnosed as a Complex Migraine. The numbness on the side of my face (which is STILL there!) is thought to be from my Postherpetic Neuralgia (PHN) from having shingles. In addition to the numbness I’m also having the stabbing pain normally associated with PHN, so that’s why they think it’s all related. The sad thing is, there is no cure for PHN, and it will probably come and go my whole life. Luckily the symptoms can be treated with medications, which I’m taking…for now.
And just to prove this whole story is true:
(Me looking stoned, but totally poop free!)