Optimism

For those few who know me well, you know I’m not the most optimistic person.  In fact I found a hundred reasons why Christopher shouldn’t marry me; good thing he didn’t listen!

Anyway, this post has nothing to do with me whatsoever, I just wanted you to realize that I am in fact {trying} to be optimistic in the midst of trial.

Where to begin?

I guess it would be shortly after Chris and I moved into our house.  He started having headaches.  I figured it wasn’t anything, and he wasn’t complaining about them very often.  But there were days/nights where he would just veg out on the couch.  Of course just moving into a house that needs a lot of work I wasn’t very happy or patient with Christopher about this.  I complained a lot about the amount of work needing to get done and things to be put away.  I didn’t realize how severely his head was hurting.

A couple of times, (probably when I was complaining) Chris would be doing something and be walking toward me completely ashen and he almost collapses as he goes to sit down, and it takes him a minute to catch his breath.  These “episodes” just seemed to be getting worse, so around the 4th one, (especially with his constant complaints about his head hurting) I told him he needed to go to the doctor.  I BEGGED him to go to the doctor, because these bouts were concerning.

Well Chris didn’t go to the doctor, and last Thursday I was getting ready for work, and Chris was in the shower.  I hear “Tiffany! TIF—“ and a soft thud.  I ran into the bathroom, and Chris was curled up in the bathtub.  He took a minute to respond to me, and I looked my husband in a totally new light.  He was completely vulnerable and scared and pain stricken.  As tears filled my eyes, I asked him if he wanted me to stay with him, to call in to work and get a sub.  He reminded me so of such a helpless child as he told me yes.  I agreed on the condition that we went to the doctor, today.  When he agreed, I knew something was wrong.  I got him a towel and watched as he stood up on shaky legs and get out of the tub.

Honestly, I haven't ever felt that scared in my life.  I have never felt so helpless and guilty.  I really thought Chris was just being kind of a baby.  That’s mean, I KNOW!, but it’s like when I have a headache or cramps, it hurts and I don’t want to do anything.  I realized that his “headaches” weren’t like that at all.

As we got ready to leave, Chris said his arms were numb.  I looked at him, and asked what he meant.  He just grabbed his arms and said they were numb, he couldn’t feel them.  This “episode” was so much more intense and worse than any other he had ever had that it made me nervous. 

When we were on the way to the doctor, Chris grabbed the back of his head and said he felt a lot of pressure.  I really tried not to say anything, I tried to be supportive and not place blame, like nag him on why he didn’t go to the doctor before today dangit!  But I could only think of the worse.  I knew we weren’t going to get any answers right away, I knew they were probably going to have to do a catscan or an MRI but I didn’t say anything.  I wanted it to be simple, but considering my family’s history I knew better.

We got to the doctor, and Chris made me go in the room with him.  I really didn’t want to, but I think Chris was actually scared.  I think he finally stopped lying to himself that this was something simple.  He told the doctor “I think it’s probably just allergies or something” and immediately she told him no.  He was hoping it was something simple she could diagnose then.

After doing the preliminary checks she ordered Chris some blood work, an MRI and got him an appointment at a Neurologist.  She told us it was possibly chronic migraines, and gave him a temporary prescription until we got to the neurologist.

I was exhausted and I knew our journey had just begun.  I went to work Friday and left right at the bell ending our day to drive Chris to Denver for his MRI.  I told him they wouldn’t tell him anything, because the technician is not legally allowed to say anything, and not to expect to be told anything.  So what does Chris do as soon as we get in the car to drive home?  “She didn't even tell me anything!”  I think the stress and the fatigue got to me cause I kind of lost it on him, because I told him I don’t know how many times that she wouldn’t!

The weekend was long and exhausting.  I tried to stay positive this weekend, and it was hard.  Especially because Monday felt like an eternity away, and Chris kept saying he “felt worse” and had a few more small “spells.”

Well Monday rolls around, and we head to Greeley to see the neurologist.  We anticipate a 30 minute appointment telling us Chris has chronic migraines and to send us off on our merry way.  Long story short, that is not what happened, and my dear Christopher was admitted into the hospital.  Chris went so willingly too.  I didn’t agree to have him admitted, because the neurologist wanted to do it to monitor his heart and prior to even looking at his MRI or the MRI radiology report.  I told the neurologist that until we looked to see what the MRI results showed, I didn’t want him admitted and looking at something completely different.

The MRI showed a spot on his right frontal lobe, but it was “inconclusive.”  At that point the doctor was really concerned and Chris was admitted.  They ran test after test, did an MRV of his head, ultrasound of his heart, x-ray of his chest, blood work, more blood work, and NOTHING!  They could not find anything wrong with him, at all.

Well, last night while Chris was sleeping, his heart rate dropped to 35-45 beats per minute.  Which is concerning.  At this point they thought it might be blood pressure, so they ordered a “tilt-table” test, which basically consists of restricting Chris of all liquids and foods for at least 12 hours and then lifting him up to see what his blood pressure does during this time.  After making him wait for 16+ hours they finally do the test and monitor him until he passed out. 

After doing that test, which by the way was AWFUL to watch, they declared that a receptor in Chris’s brain wasn’t working effectively causing him to have low blood pressure, so blood wasn’t getting to his brain the way it needed to.  Finally, I thought.  And it was something fairly easy to regulate and take care of.   Increase salt intake, drink gatorade during the day, medication.  We could handle that.

So a couple hours after his test, Chris is finally allowed to get off bed rest and takes a shower.  While he was in the shower, his heart beat kept spiking.  They thought it might be the way he was moving around, and ignored it.  (The nurse had me go in and check on him to make sure he wasn’t dizzy or passing out or whatever).  He gets dressed and the nurse tells him that before the discharge doctor comes up, they wanted him to take a walk around the floor one or two times.  So, hand-in-hand we walk.  It was a slow-paced easy walk, nothing strenuous or fast paced.  We get back and the nurses explain again that his heart beat kept spiking and for a 25 year old healthy male it was too high for his activity level.  Chris kind of shrugs and says he feels fine, which he looked fine. 

The discharge doctor comes and while we are talking to him Chris gets one of his dizzy spells and almost passes out, again.

So long story short, now they have no idea what is wrong with him and is still in the hospital.  He almost started crying when they told him he had to stay another night.

I feel bad.  I wish I could do something to make it all better, but I can’t.  I don’t have a magic wand that I can wave to heal him.  All I have is prayers and faith.  Prayers that the doctors find out what is wrong soon, and faith that God has a plan and His hand in all this.