The Train Wreck

Armed with my blood pressure medicine, I was ready to start trying to help my kidneys. I was still holding out some hope that I could avoid dialysis. I didn't know if that was possible, but that was my plan.

I woke up on September 18 feeling kind of queasy. For whatever reason, the maintenance treatments were really upsetting my stomach. Eating didn't help much, and water just tasted awful, but the compazine seemed to help, so I took one.

After I ate my breakfast, I took my blood pressure pill and got ready for work. I exercised at noon, which was normal, and then I had lunch. My stomach felt upset again, so I took another compazine. Timing-wise I was fine, so I didn't think twice about it.

Around 2:30pm I noticed that I was having problem catching my breath. There are times when I sit at my desk and work without any interaction with co-workers (this doesn't happen often enough sometimes!), so I hadn't tried talking much that afternoon.

I called Jeannie after about 10 minutes of this. I'm sure I didn't sound great, but I had never had a reaction to medicine before, so I didn't really know what was happening to me. I called Dr. Frock's office and explained to the nurse that I thought I might be having a reaction to the blood pressure medicine I was taking. That seemed  right to me, because I had taken compazine before with no problem.

When Dr. Frock called back, I was sounding a bit like Snagglepuss, slobbering my words. I was able to get across to him that something was going on, and I needed some guidance. He said it sounded like an allergic reaction that would pass. He asked me if my tongue felt like it was swelling up, because that would be a problem. Well, I locked onto that and started feeling my tongue. I couldn't tell if it was swollen. How can you tell?

Dr. Frock's advice to me was to go to the ER if I thought my tongue was swollen, or if I was afraid. Whatever knowledge I lacked about the swelling of my tongue, I more than made up with just being generally afraid! I hung up with him and went into see a group of co-workers to see if they thought I looked different.

Sue and Tara thought my face looked swollen, and of course I was still slobbering my speech. I was pretty sure I wanted to go to the ER. The only decision left to make was whether or not I would drive myself. I didn't think I would have a problem driving, but I was afraid that this thing going on inside of me would get worse. I asked Sue if she would drive me to Bergan. It wasn't the closest hospital, but it was a place I was familiar with. My first ER visit was about to happen.

I don't know if Sue was worried, but if she was, she didn't let on. I gathered up my things and walked out of the office. I told one more co-worker that I was leaving and that was that. I got into Sue's truck and went to call Jeannie to let her know what was happening. This was pretty comical.

Sue is a fine driver, but her truck rides rougher than my car, so as I'm trying to not freak out about what's happening to me, I'm trying to dial Jeannie's work number from my cell phone. Jeannie's office number gets answered first by an auto-attendant that prompts you to press 1, and then enter a 4-digit number. It took me almost five minutes to get her main number dialed correctly with all the bouncing around we were doing. Every time I got the number dialed right, though, I would mess up the 4-digit number. Bogus!

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 10 minutes, I dialed all the numbers correctly. Jackpot! Fortunately, she was at her desk! I calmly slobbered out that we were going to Bergan. I told her what I was experiencing and that other than breathing and talking funny I was feeling okay. She said she would leave work and meet us at Bergan. For the rest of the drive, my breathing and slobbering speech would get better and then get worse.

Once we were at Bergan, I got checked in right away. There was no one else waiting, so I thought this was going to be okay. A nurse came to get me before Jeannie got there, so Sue waited for her. Sue was great for me during this little adventure.

The time in the ER was slow and scary. I had plenty of attention, but the focus was on determining if I was having a stroke. My face had the look, with my right side positioned up higher than my left. When Jeannie arrived, I was laying back, trying hard to breath normally. Instead of normal quiet-we-take-it-for-granted-breathing, I made this low moaning sound with every breath. My voice evolved from Snagglepuss to Bullwinkle while we waited for this to get resolved.

My primary, Dr. Pajnigar, came in about an hour into my time in the ER. By this time the crazy breathing and cartoon voice was coming and going as if I was a pregnant woman having contractions. Jeannie and I laughed about that as the pattern revealed itself. Just before Dr. Pajnigar walked in, I had one of my normal moments, but as soon as he asked how I was feeling, Bullwinkle came alive again, with the added bonus of my teeth grinding. This was something new.

They had done a CT scan earlier, and I thought I heard it turned out fine. Dr. Pajnigar said that wasn't the case. There was a shadow or something on my head. So, even though I was convinced this was an allergic reaction, no one was ready to call it that, so I got a visit from the neurologist. I don't remember her name, but she was quite the cut-up. It was exactly what I needed at that moment.

She did all the typical things, shining her light in my eyes, having me pull her hands with both of my hands. She didn't think the spot on my head was fresh, so as she eye-balled my scary looking face, my bulging neck muscles and generally stiff as a board appearance (I don't know if she thought my Bullwinkle voice was cool), she determined that I was having a reaction to medicine, but it was the compazine, not the blood pressure medicine.

Next thing you know, the nurse was pushing benadryl into me. Within 30 seconds Snagglepuss, Bullwinkle, and any other cartoon characters I resembled that afternoon were gone. I was back to normal. I would need to be admitted, but I was going to be fine.

The other shoe in this deal was that my lack of kidney function was probably the source of all this drama. Dr. Pajnigar was pretty stern with me about needing dialysis when he had stopped by earlier in all of this. They had me now. By the time Dr. Frock came to see me and make it official that evening, I knew that the next chapter in this adventure was going to be dialysis.

My Wednesday adventure was the opening door to more fun on Thursday. I was going to get a catheter after I got an EEG and an MRI. And, I was going to have my first dialysis treatment. So much for my plan!