Hyperemesis Gravidarum catch-up: Hospitals, PICC lines, IVs, and other fun

Doctor

A lot has happened in my world of hyperemesis gravidarum.  I’ll try to break it down into a timeline.

Friday Feb 18th – I had a really, really bad day.  This was after they had set me up with the zofran pump and home IV hydration the night before.  By the afternoon I was in terrible shape and my Alere home health nurse instructed me to go in to the hospital immediately.  I did and initially they sent my up to labor and delivery.  The nurses there tried to get an IV in me because my one from before had blown but they couldn’t do it.  They kept sticking me again and again.  I started halucinating I think.  I kept thinking I could hear the Grasshopper crying but I couldn’t get up to help her.  There were a lot of nurses in there.  A couple of them were holding me down I think and trying to talk to me because I kept panicking.  The regular nurses tried to get the IV in.  The NICU nurse tried.  Finally they got an anesthesiologist in and he got a line in and they started running fluids.  Then they sent me back to the ER.  I was there until midnight I think. They gave me a bunch of stuff. Lots of shots. Then they moved me to the sick ward.

My night nurse was so mean. She would come take my vitals and put the blood pressure cuff so tight that it made me cry. She kept saying my bp was low and doing it again and again. It was so tight that the old iv sticks started bleeding. She also tried to check my BP on my left arm where the IV was which is a huge no-no.  My doctor helped me figure out who she was and gave me her name.  I will be writing a letter.

I was there through the weekend.  Saturday they gave me potassium in my IV which really burned.  Then more fluids.

Sunday Feb 20th –  I was doing better and eating crackers, so they sent me home.  They were kind enough to get a new line in so I could go home and hook up to my IVs at home.  Unfortunately, that line clotted off before I could get the fluids going.  My mom arrived right around that time, so she dropped her suitcases off at the front door, hopped in the car, and drove me back to the ER while my husband went to go pick up the Grasshopper from daycare.

I was really scared when they came to put the new line in.  I had been stuck so many times on Friday that it just terrified me.  I just looked at a rivet on my mom’s shoe and tried to breathe.  I was so scared I was shaking.  But the nurse who came to do it was phenomenal.  Trauma Nurse Andy.  Bless him.  Boom.  One stick and he nailed it.  No digging, no hunting, no nothing.  Just one stick.  Bless you Trauma Nurse Andy.  You are my hero.

The line lasted until Tuesday before it blew out.  Again.

Tuesday Feb 22nd – I was finally able to talk to my doctor and tell her what was going on.  She had been out of town.  She told me to go in straight away for a PICC line.  We went to a different hospital on her recommendation, and I’m glad we did.  The staff there was excellent.  She set me up to have the radiologist place the PICC.  They were all very nice, but the radiologist got a little nervous about doing too many x-rays on me.  He was concerned about the radiation and the baby.  So I wound up with a midline instead.  It was lovely.  It was purple.  It was a double-lumen, meaning there were two sites to which I could connect both my zofran pump and my fluids.  For a brief and shining moment it meant no more pokes.

Thursday Feb 24th – After taking a shower (and keeping the PICC dressing totally dry!  I swear!), I noticed that the dressing was starting to look… not right.  It looked brownish and really saturated, not to mention the deep ache I was feeling in my wrist, finger, and elbow joints.  I called Alere to see what to do and they said they’d have to call me back.  I waited.  And waited.  An hour or so later I realized that my shirt was soaked with fluid running out from under my PICC dressing.   I called again.  They told me to get to the ER immediately.  When Mom and I got there, I told them I thought my PICC was infected.  That got me back quickly and a PICC nurse came to see me.  When she tried to flush the line, the pain was unbelievable and I started crying again.  She said that the PICC, which was really a midline, had blown out of the vein.  No infection, but no functioning line.  She said the fluid running out was the fluid from my IV bags.  She pointed out how swollen my arm was compared to the other one, something we hadn’t noticed before.  She said she could try to put another one in for me at bedside.  “Okay,” I said, “Do what you gotta do.”

It was harrowing.  She tried and tried to get it in, but she just couldn’t make the turn at my shoulder.  When she flushed it, the joint ached indicating that it was not in a vein.  She pulled it, and for the first time in a while I wasn’t attached to anything.  I went home and got the zofran pump going on a subcutaneous site in my leg again.

Friday Feb 25th – I went in to see my doctor at 1:00.  She took one look at my arms and said, “No more IVs.  No more PICC.”  We are at the point where the risks of me being stuck again outweigh other risks.  The good news is, after a lot of really hard work on my mom’s part, I had been able to take in fluids in the form of ice chips and frozen cranberry juice.  I had also been able to eat in a minimal way.  We had reached the wait and see point.  She wanted to see how I did with the Mom treatment through the weekend.  She said that if I got dehydrated again to go straight in.  Don’t let anyone but an anesthesiologist try to put in an IV.  And the IV would be only temporary until they could get a central line placed.  Scary stuff.  A relief though because I’m at the point where I see the little pink IV needle and I start to panic.  But the good news was, I felt well enough for my husband to take the Grasshopper, Mom, and me out to dinner for my birthday.  I ate part of a baked potato and salad.  I call that a huge win.

This weekend we worked hard.  Mom worked hard.  We just tried our best to get as much fluids in as possible.  Food was a bonus.  Same on Monday.  Yesterday was not a very good day, but Mom and I think it was because we didn’t get me eating immediately.  Today was a much better day.  I had another appointment with my doctor who was thrilled at my progress.  She said to just keep doing what we are doing.

At this point, the only thing that will fix this is time.

And on a final note:  Thank God for my mother.  If she was not here, I would be in the hospital right now with that central line.

Hyperemesis Gravidarum, Home Health, and the Hospital Yo-yo

medicine-thermometer-tablets-pills

That is the best title I can come up with.  Went to the hospital again Wednesday and came home that night.  In and out, back and forth. Like a yo-yo.

Thursday afternoon Alere came out to start ivs and a zofran pump.  Had that going since Thursday afternoon around 4.  They gave me lactated ringers.

Yesterday my Ketones were 4+.  Today they are 3+.  Still bad.  Yesterday I threw up so hard I couldn’t breathe.  It was a really bad day.

Baby looks good.  I wish this would just end but I make healthy babies.  I think wishing I could have a miscarriage makes me a pretty awful person but I am too sick to care.

I had a little meltdown this morning and cried and cried and cried.  I am trying hard not to look down the time tunnel, but that’s hard to do.

Hyperemesis Gravidarum Sent Me to the Hospital

medical doctorThe hyperemesis gravidarum landed me in the hospital for the first time this week. I’ve been feeling pretty bad for the last couple of days.  This morning I called my doctor’s office.  She’s out so I had to talk to a different doctor.  He had me go into the hospital’s Labor and Delivery ward for fluids.

I felt pretty good while I was there getting fluids.  It helped that it was during the time of day that I usually feel good.

I had to explain to a very handsome young doctor about the zofran and the pooping and the enemas.  Talk about humiliating.

They send it a paramedic in training to start my IV.  Big mistake.  I warned him that I’m a tough stick on a good day and this was not a good day.  He smiled and said, “Don’t worry, it’s my first time.”  I was pretty sure he was joking so I smiled back and said, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”  Okay, now what I meant to say was, “I bet you say that to all your patients.”  It came out so wrong.  I was so embarrassed that I hid under the blanket.  What a day.

They took blood (all came back normal).

They ran 2 bags of fluids and 8 mg IV zofran.

I managed to eat some green Jello and some baked potato which made me feel worse.

I managed to pee.

Dr. Hottie came back in, told me I was fine and sent me on my way.

“Just keep taking the Zofran.  If you feel persistent nausea or dizziness, come back in.”

I said, “That’s hillarious.”  I wasn’t smiling.

My doctor’s office was supposed to have home health set up for me.  I wanted to be going home to either continuous fluids at home or a zofran pump or both.

What did I go home with?  “Just keep taking the Zofran.  If you feel persistent nausea or dizziness, come back in.”  Freakin’ hillarious.  Also, I should take colace for the constipation.  *facepalm*

We came back, picked up the Grasshopper from daycare on the way home, made it home, and I threw up whatever was left in my stomach.  I felt much better afterward.

I feel like crap.

I have an appointment with my own doctor on Wednesday morning.  It cannot come soon enough.

Also, I totally forgot it was Valentine’s Day, so the Grasshopper didn’t have any cards or candy to give out to her friends.  So to top everything off, I feel like the worst mom in the world.