Chapter 35: So I was in the hospital…

Yellow is not my color

Lymphedemic cellulitis struck again. I spent the first five days of June in the hospital. It was desperately needed in more ways than one.

I knew I was going to at least go to the ER when I noticed my leg turning red and blotchy all the way up to my middle thigh. It was getting painful to walk and the skin was very hot to touch, so I knew I had to go. So, after my therapy session on Monday the first, I headed to the ER. I was prepared to spend 4–5 hours in there, get handed some antibiotics, and be sent on my way.

I knew it was going to be a long stay when two things happened: one, they wanted an ultrasound of my leg to check for clots. Since the redness and swelling was so far up my leg, they wanted to rule it out. Second, they took blood. When I have blood drawn, I know they’re looking for more than just an infection. It also didn’t help that my blood pressure was through the roof.

And they took A LOT of blood over five days.

After spending a couple hours in a treatment room, a doctor came in and told me my blood test results. No sepsis, thank goodness. But my potassium was so low it was almost undetectable. So they put me on a potassium drip. If you’ve ever had IV potassium, you know that it is literally fire through your veins. So they dilute it with saline to make it less painful.

I took six bags of potassium, and two more over the next three days.

I was tethered to this IV pole for four days. We got to know each other well.

So they next 24 hours I was hydrated, potassiumed, and given a transition room until they could find a suitable room for me. In the meantime, they took me for another ultrasound. This time it was on my abdomen. Apparently, something in my blood work suggested something might be wrong with my kidneys. After the ultrasound, it was discovered that there was a “cystic focus of unknown significance inferior to the spleen, measuring approximately 2.5 cm.” My doctor also informed me that there was evidence of cirrhosis caused by fatty liver disease. There wasn’t much, but it was something to keep an eye on.

I was well taken care of and was grateful for five days of decent food and a bed to sleep in. But this visit was a wake up call for me. Prior to going to the ER, I had a therapy session where my therapist was talking about advocating for myself and realizing that I am worthy of help when I needed it. This was one of those times where I could actually put that into practice.

I have rarely gone to the hospital unless something was too painful to ignore or I was near death. I blamed my lack of money and insurance for not going. However, I was offered financial assistance each time I’ve been in the hospital. I was just too overwhelmed and frustrated by having to sift through paperwork, finding proof of my condition and income, etc. While I was in the hospital, I requested to talk to a case worker who not only helped me find financial assistance, but walked me through the process for signing up for Medicaid. All I had to do was send them proof of my income and they would do the rest.

It took a huge worry and burden off me by them doing that. I also asked to be referred to a primary care physician because I could never choose one. I had no idea what to look for in a PCP before. They also pointed to places I could continue to get the blood pressure medication I was now on cheaply so I could continue controlling it.

With all the help the hospital gave me and the encouraging and challenging words from my therapist, I now have a renewed sense of self esteem. I am learning how to put my health and well being first. I just couldn’t do it on my own. I needed help, and I spoke up and got that help. Hopefully, I can continue this momentum so I can start focusing on my long term goals.