A week I never want to go through again - Part 2

Where was I? Oh yeah - the goal to find the vein.
Remember: The following may be too graphic for some - reader discretion advised....

I had actually become so dehydrated that it was hard for the nurse to find my vein. Finally he was able to and he put in the needle that would provide me nutrients and the hydration that my body and the baby so badly needed. That needle hurt!!
So the needle was in and the course of pain killers started. I am allergic to morphine so they had to do the demeral (I am sure I spelt that wrong!) When you do the demeral you need to follow it immediately with the gravol. Thankfully they were quick with that! The shot didn't do anything. It wasn't strong enough so they gave me a double dose. Immediately my mind went to the baby. Was this ok for my little one? I tried to ask between the drowsiness and the absolute state of dumbness. To ease my mind and to verify that I was pregnant they got the Doppler out to listen to little Bean's heart beat. There it was. Doped up but strong at 120 bpm. I cried. There was our baby and daddy was right there to hear it. It was getting late and then I see Michelle. She came to check on us. It was nice to have people there. There is nothing scarier then being in a hospital by yourself.
They had decided to admit me so that the next morning they could run the tests that they needed to. Phil, knowing that I would be admitted and the pain was being managed and that his two people were being cared for went home. I was scared. He had to go to work the next day so he needed his rest.
Trying to sleep in the emergency ward is another story. My eyes were heavy and yet I could not sleep and when I did it felt like an hour only to find out that it was only ten minutes. I woke up closer to midnight and the pain was getting bad again. I was in tears and I wished that Phil was there. I heard the curtain open and saw Sue. She came to visit me as well. It was good timing.
So the next morning I went for an ultrasound to check out the galbladder and the kidneys. They did see fluid in the kidneys which suggested a kidney infection. While they were there they snuck a peak at LB (Little Bean). It was amazing! The little heart was going at 152 bpm. There it was. Moving around running from the technician. It even waved. I cried cause daddy couldn't be there for the first ultrasound. The technician felt bad so she snuck a picture of the little one off for me. It now sits in a little silver frame that says "baby". I was upset cause I had no one to share it with. Just after being brought back into the emergency room I had a visitor. Barely able to move and totally drugged I was like, "look, look...." While reaching under the pillow to grab the picture. It was my ray of light in such a dark situation. I had to stay in the emergency room until 8 o'clock that night when a bed upstairs was finally free.
My doctor had come in and confirmed the suspicion of the kidney infection. Started the antibiotics. He reassured me that they were perfectly safe for the baby. I was still getting sick and couldn't even handle the water.
The next day, Friday, my doctor came in and removed the IV. Thought that I would be able to go home the next day. After he had just finished saying that they want to do the drip antibiotics for at least 48 - 72 hours. It hadn't even been 24 yet! So the IV was removed. The pain was still intense. Still getting sick. Part of me thought that the nurses didn't believe me cause they never were around when I threw up.
God changed that the next morning. It had to of been Him. As usual I was feeling sick and this time I threw up the pills and the nurse was next door. She came in right away with a shot of gravol and wrote it in my chart. The doctor saw that and the fact that I wasn't eating and put me back on the IV and changed my anti-nausea medicine. Which I think made all the difference. That day, Saturday, was the worst day ever. Swaying back and forth not able to open my eyes and look at my visitors. I did have a visitor and Phil was there too. I was scared. The pain was incredible. The feeling of throwing up was in my mouth. I was crying. I was breathing weird. Shallow I guess. (so I was told). Wanting to beg Phil and my guest not to leave but not knowing how. So I just looked up and said, "don't leave yet". I was told that they weren't planning on it. They sat there and rubbed my back. Put a cloth on my forehead. Held the bucket when I almost lost it. I felt very small but very loved and safe. To me that was definitely a blessing from God. I could imagine God's touch through all the loving things that were being done to make sure I was comfortable. I did eventually sleep.
Sunday was a sad day too. I was missing church. I hated that. Phil brought my MP3 Player, as you may have read from the last post. I listened to God. I prayed to Him. I cried to Him. I pictured myself in His arms. I had faith that His hand of mercy would heal me. You know what, that night things started going a little better. Held down a little bit of chicken noodle soup. The next day was one that I would eat again.
There were moments of sheer frustration. I think it was Friday night when I was brought dinner of clear fluids. Which consists of Jell-o, juice and something they claim to be broth. I tend to disagree. There was two ladies across from me. They got fish for dinner and little desserts. I heard one complain that she doesn't like fish and the other complain that she doesn't like date squares. That was enough for me. I closed my curtain and cried. Here I am not even able to keep down Jell-o and they were complaining about their food. I would have given anything just to keep down something. I cried cause I was just so frustrated.
I had an attack due to the codeine in the T3's I was being given. Got super dizzy. Broke out in a cold sweat with a fever. That was Friday night. There went the dinner I worked so hard to keep down.
Anyway.... I did get to go home. Obviously. With some prescriptions. A time of torture to my body but also a time of rest for my soul. I am still taking this week off to get my strength back. That is what Phil wanted too. But it worries me. That is one whole paycheck I won't be getting. I am just trusting God though and I know that He will pull us through.
This may not of sounded like a big thing to some of you readers. I know people younger then me that are going through worse, that's a different entry. But in my crazy little world that was a big enough obstacle for me to go through. Now it is over. I am on the road to recovery and I can only hope that the next time I am in the hospital it will be to deliver my little one.
This whole experience has taught me to trust God more. To understand that it is ok and that He does know what He is doing. Maybe I needed to go through it to come back to Him. To being closer to Him.
I thank God that I am healing. I thank God for His healing touch and I know there is no way I couldn't have done it without all the prayers and the wishes that went my way. Without all those that took the time out of their busy lives to be with me day in and day out and sometimes even just for a little bit. It all meant a lot to me. I hope you all know who you are. Know that I love you. That I am thankful for all you have done. Thankful for all the prayers and the well wishes. I will never forget those people and these events that have happened in this past week for as long as I live. Thank you. Thank you God for opening my eyes.
I actually remember looking at Phil one day and telling Him, "we are loved." He smiled and said, "you bet we are".