Beliefs - not a christian

I'm tired of labels. I'm tired of fighting. People tell me I'm un-christian, I'm a sinner, blah blah blah. So on and so forth.

Let me clear some things up. I havn't called myself a Christian in a long time. Why? Because I realized I don't follow the rules.

I have stopped telling people "ill pray for him" and turned it into "Sending loving thoughts" because I dont find myself ever really praying.

I believe people don't have a choice who they fall in love with. I believe sitting in church and being bored out of my mind would be and insult to God, so I don't go.

I swear, I get moody and I take prescription pills (which I've been told is wrong).

Sure I know some things are wrong, MURDER, THEFT, HURTING ANOTHER PERSON.. The big stuff.

Yes those are bad. But why is falling in love with someone of the same sex considered bad? How is saying a word consisdered bad?
I refuse to believe that someone is going to hell because they happened to fall in love with some one who has the same anatamoy as them..

Now Im not saying I don't believe in God. Because I do. I honestly know he's out there. I believe in him and love him.

Im just so tired of everyone else's judgment

I'm scared.

I'll be honest. I act brave and proud. I am a CHD warrior. But, I am scared. The nightmares are starting again. The pain is coming back. So how much longer until I'm in heart failure again?

Let me tell you a little bit about my life before my last open heart surgery. I doubt nightmares had anything to do with anything, but there was alot!

The pain was horrible.

I had trouble breathing. I could put my hand on my chest and feel my heart beat. So strong, so hard. I didn't know I wasn't suppose to feel it by just touching my chest. The heat made me so sick. I'd get so hot and so nauseated. If I moved to fast my heart would pound. And it got to the point where just walking room to room just hurt so bad. My heart would hurt when I moved. It pounded and the pain would be so bad. I got the worst headaches. It got to the point where I would just sit and cry trying to wait for it to pass. It always did pass eventually. But then I'd have to move again.

I know what you will say OMG! Why didn't you go to the doctor alot sooner. I know I know, I should have. But I was trying to ignore my heart defect. But I learned my lesson. When I finally did go to the doctor I learned some scary stuff.

* I was in atrial fibrillation and was at a high risk for clots and strokes.

* My heart was dilated and up against my breast bone.

* My fontan surgery wasn't lasting.

* I was in heart failure

* I could drop dead any second

* without surgery, they only gave me 5 years to live.

So I had my second open heart surgery (6th heart surgery all together). They did the maze procedure to fix the A-fib. They removed part of my heart. They did the fontan revision, and they implanted a pacemaker.

They told me a week after surgery that my heart was looking great and there was hope for no more surgeries. But If I did need another surgery It would be a transplant because I was all out of options.

Its been a little over a year now. My last cardio app in march went well. They told me my heart looked good. They even told me I could move my apps to every 6 months instead of every 3. But I'm still having issues.

I've been having alot of issues with tachycardia since surgery. I've gone to the ER at least 3 times. They always tell my I'm fine. And when they tell me I'm not fine and should see my pacemaker doctor, I do go, and he then looks at me and says.. well now your heart is acting normal again. We don't need to do anything.

Well the pain is coming back. This time is different pain. A more excruiating pain. It starts with a sore jaw. Then It moves into my chest. And then my chest, shoulders, and jaw just hurt. It hurts like a fucking bitch!!!!! This has happened twice. The last time this happened my aunt was talking to me. She stopped dead and just stared. She asked me if I was alright. Trying not to make her worry I was like yeah. She is like no Jess, You are whiter then white. Why are you so pale whats wrong.

And now, the old pain is starting again. The moving to much is making my heart pound again. I get so out of breath and tired.

Maybe I'm just a worry wort. But Im scared. What if the heart failure is back? What if my heart is dilated again. What if the surgery is failing??

Give me Strength

Well I guess this blog as turned into a diary of sorts. A way to talk to my father. Which I guess isn't bad. It helps, at least I think. So here I go again, I'm going to talk to my dad.

Last night, for the first time in a long time, I cried myself to sleep. I don't know why it happened. But you where just on my mind I guess. I'm thinking of October 16. The day I made the biggest mistake of my life. It's approuching quickly and this year there is more to it. This year, marks 10 years since I made that mistake. This year, it is also Dan's wedding. I don't know why he picked October 16th. The day before you died. I wish I could ask him why, but I can't. Mom keeps saying well at least there is now something happy to celebrate at that time. But I don't see it that way. I can't see it that way.

I made the worst mistake of my life on October 16th 2000. And now, exactly 10 years later, I have to celebrate a wedding. He is my brother and I am SOOO happy for him! But it will be very hard on me. I need you to watch over me and make sure I don't break down during his wedding. Because I wan't to break down just thinking about it now. I'll be drinking and dancing, and you should be there with us. And you wont. And that just makes me mad.

But I will put on a happy face. I will be a part of that wedding. I will laugh, and dance, and drink. I will have fun, even though I am sad. I just need you to be there with me.

I love you dad.

Pity.

Hi all, It's me again! As you already knew. Anyways. So I thought I should clear something up here. This is about my facebook statuses.

When I complain on my facebook status, I am not looking for pity. Or help for that matter. I post my feelings becaue it's one of my only ways of getting them out. And I know if I don't get them out thats just gona hurt me more.

So when I post something like "ugh I was I had a better phone"
I am not asking for people to offer to buy me a phone. I am not asking for them to send me their old ones. All I'm saying is just that. I wish I could have a better phone. But I know at this moment in my life I wont.

I am not happy with my life at this moment. This wasn't how it was suppose to go. But it has, and I use my facebook to vent my frustration over it.

And I appreaciate everything you all do for me. All the offers to help. But thats not what I'm asking for. I just post it to get it out. To vent because I know some of you out there understand. And all I really want is prayers for a better life.

My Other Story

I know its hard to see, but yes, that's what you think it is. And no, I am not suicidal.

I never shared this story before. Never publicly. Never with anyone besides close friends. But I feel it's time. Time to get it out of my mind. Time to open myself up so I don't have to hide the struggle I'm going through anymore.

I'm not gona be one of those people who said, I saw this coming. We all saw this coming. Because I didn't. I mean, when I look back on it now I guess I can say "hey yeah thats not right, maybe this is a sign of things to come". But I didn't pay attention I was a kid. And my mom never paid attention because I was a heart kid, and heart kids are more emotional then 'normal' kids.

I remember one moment as a child, thinking OMG I am ugly. And I remember wondering if my dad loved me. But I didn't think anything of it. Until now. Here is my story. The UNTOLD story. Not my CHD story no, my Bipolar story.

I think I was 14. I remember being in 7 and 8th grade. I remember thats when I began getting depressed. When I began to really feel ugly. But then 9th grade started. I finally made a really good friend. We met in spanish class and we clicked instantly. The first time we hung out, we snorted some white stuff and then went and TPed a church. Thats when it began.

Drinking, smoking and huffing. Thats all it was for a short time. A very short time. Getting high and music, it was a relaxing life for a bit. But then that nagging feeling came back. That you arn't pretty. You arn't loved little voice in the back of my head. I needed an escape. I needed out. Thats when I began to stop eating. For a while, that was enough. All I did all day was plan my food intake, weigh, count calories and make weight goals. I was happy when I lost my first 5 pounds. But then it got harder to lose weight.

What I didn't realize was I was battling an eating disorder. I thought I was fat, I thought it was normal for me to want to lose weight. When people told me I was to skinny and they wanted to buy me a cheeseburger I got pissed. I thought they where laughing at the fatty. So I began working harder. Not only did I limit my eating I began making myself throw up what I actually did eat.

I slowly lost weight but it wasn't fast enough. My mom was starting to wonder a bit. Asking me if everything was okay. Everyone at school asked me how much weight I lost. Only 10 pounds, geeze not a big deal. I was so tired, I told my gym teacher I didn't feel good and needed to sit out. She looked at me and ask if I had been eating. I told her yes. She looked me in the eye and said "YOUR LYING".

It got even harder. My mom was making me eat in front of her, my teachers kept talking to me about me eating and all the other kids where staring. I felt fat, ugly, and pissed. Thats when It got to its worst. Thats when I pulled out the razor blade. I remember exactly how I tried cutting. It was after watching an episode of degrassi: the next generation. I remember watching that episode. I remember seeing Ellie, I could tell she felt like I was feeling. But I didn't understand how cutting helped her. I thought she was a crazy lunatic. I just couldn't see it. So I tried it.

Well my eyes where opened. The pain, the relief that came with the pain and blood. I understood. I got it. And thats when it go bad. I cut so much I went through so many band aids. About a box a day. I cut and let it bleed for a bit, but then put a band aid over it. I hated covering it up but I was on blood thinners. And If I didn't cover it up the blood would seep through my sure and my mom would be able to see. I began wearing long sleaves all the time. I went through all the band aids in the house so I had to use toilet paper and tape. I stole my moms box cutter. I spent an hour in the bath cracking open a despoisable razor to cut with. I intentionally bought eye liner sharpeners. Unscrew those and the blade came right off. It worked perfectly. And the razor was small enough I could carry it around we with at all times.

Because it came to the point where I needed to make sure it was with me. I needed to make sure I could cut whenever I needed to cut.

I remember showing my mom, the first time I cut. I remember we where sitting on my bed crying, talking about the eating and I showed her the cut. She asked me if I was trying to kill myself. Honestly, no I wasn't. I've never serisouly thought of killing myself.

After that talk my mom watched me closely but I got smarter. I found ways to hide the cuts and to get out of eating or getting rid of food.

I remember one time me and my mom watched the degrassi cutting episode together once and she looked at me and asked, should I check your arms? I told her no. Thats when she knew. So thats when I began cutting my legs. The whole time, losing weight along the way.

Eventually the school got involved and kids found out about the cutting. I begged and begged them to not tell her. But they did. I remember my brother coming into my room and going "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" I think he was scared. He bagan to cry. And then I cried. I showed him my legs and we just cried.

Thats when my mom got pissed and began searching my shit and took all my razor blades. The ones she could find anyways. She began to weigh me every morning. Told me as long as I was 100 lbs or m0re then she wouldn't push it to much. Well I knew I wouldn't weigh that one morning so I put extra clothes on. I still only weighed 95. Thats when she got mad. Thats when the watching bacame 24/7. Thats when I finally told her "fine Ill go to BHC" Just to get her to leave me alone. BHC is behavorial health center.

What she didn't know was how bad I had gotten. She didn't know about the extra clothes. She didn't know that I had began cutting my feet, hoping to cut the veins. I wanted the blood.

I went to BHC and was watched closely. I wasn't allowed to go to the bathroom after I ate. I had conselling. After a week, a horrible horrible week my mom took me home. But that didn't stop me. I still cut and hid it, I still worked very hard to lose weight. And cried when my weight went up by a .5 I went to counslers weekly. Thats when I was diagnosed with bipolar. I had 2 different conselers. One kicked me out after he saw I was still cutting and wouldn't talk about it. The other one, IDK why I stopped seeing him but I did.

But I was still cutting and still not eating. I'm not really sure how I stopped myself. But its been about 2 years since I've last cut myself, or at least cut myself to make myself bleed. I still scratch myself. And if I had a razor blade, which I try to not let myself near, I know Ill do some damage. Draw blood and make another pretty little scar. I look at myself daily and go "5 lbs and you'll be good"

OPEN HEART SURGERY

Open Heart Surgery - the unexpected.
It was a nice day, October or November of 2008. I had my buddy Hunter. The two year old I watched twice a week since he was 3 months. The cutest little boy, I love him like he’s my own. We had music on and where dancing when the phone rang. I looked at the number and immediately knew it was a doctor.
“Hello” I say expecting Julie from Dr. Fry’s (my cardiologist) office to answer me. But what I heard was “hi this is Kendal from Dr. Emge’s office, I’m calling to set up your CT scan.”
My first response was “what the hell Kendal from whose office, and what CT scan.”
She told me a story about how Dr. Fry referred me to Dr. Emge, because most children who have the fontan done need the fontan revision. And Dr. Emge knew more about it because he‘s a pediatric cardiologist”
“what? I never heard about this.”
“Oh,”
“can I call you back?”
So I call Julie and ask her what’s going on. She apologizes profusely. She was on vacation and the other secretary was suppose to call and let me know. Long story short, I made an appointment for a CT scan. Then immediately took Hunter over to my moms. I walked in and immediately hugged her and explained what happened.”
That’s when she apologized. She told me that they told her this might happen. But I was doing so good that she never mentioned, plus she thought she mentioned when I was younger. If she did, I don’t remember. So that’s when my open heart journey begins. I met Dr. Emge, and immediately liked him. I had my CT scans and a bunch of other tests. All the while my mom was by my side. I wouldn’t have made it without her. The first visit Dr. Emge told me I was in atrial Fibrillation (the top part of my heart was beating right) and said he wanted me to have a cardiac catheterization. So within a couple weeks I was on my way to Boise. Me and my mom stayed at the Ronald McDonald house, they where so amazing there. And the night I got in I got to meet Dr. Womack. He was the nicest person ever! He talked to me and explained everything. He even explained everything for a tenth time when I started to cry and said I still didn’t understand. He helped me and my mom understand, everything. Understand what he would be doing and why I might need the surgery. So the next day I check in, 7:30 am I think? And I met my nurse, and Julie (the lady I always talked on the phone with). She came right in and gave me the biggest hug and the first words out of her mouth where “I feel like I already know you.” Then she hugged my mom. Then Womack came in, and then I got the good drugs. They decided it was the time to ask questions, “boyfriends name?” and got disappointed when mom already knew about him. They even tried to make me princess wave as they where wheeling me down the hall. My mom told me it was hilarious to see the big anesthesiologist princess waving. And I didn’t wave. I remember coming to in recovery. I was coughing and it felt like a lung was about to fly up. The first words out of me where “did you put a tube down my throat?” They told me it was a possibility but most like it wouldn’t happen. Julie answered “yes you where coughing to hard and where waking yourself up.”
Next question
“did you cork anything?” or at least I think that’s what it was called. It would have been to help the atrial fibrillation. They would have put a spring type thing in to block some of the veins that help beat. Or, something like that. They told me “No”
Next question
“where’s my mom?” they told me “waiting room”
Next question
“what time is it” I don’t remember what they told me. Maybe that’s why I asked it like ten times.
I had to be on oxygen and I hated the nose things so I asked for the mask. Either way it was annoying but the mask was the less annoying of the two. There was a point when my nurse was gone and I was all alone. Only for like a minute. But it was that minute that I had to get extremely hot. So I sit up and took my socks off. My nurse came back and looked at me like I was crazy. I wasn’t suppose to bend my leg, and apparently your not aloud to sit up in recovery. I noticed that, I saw a bunch of people around me just laying there. They in a way looked dead, though I knew they weren’t its recovery after all. Within a short time. I was anxious and wanted out. So sooner then anyone really thought I was being moved up to 3 telemetry. And I got to see my mom! I remember her saying some joke. And I was like “woman I’ll kick you.” Dr. Emge and all the nurses where looking around like uh-oh what should we do and all of a sudden Julie spoke up. “use your left leg!” They went in through my right, so I wasn’t suppose to move it for a while. After that, someone mentioned waiting for a back board so they could move me from the gurney to the bed. But they decided that all of them, including Dr. Emge could do it themselves. So they moved me. The rest of the day was filled with visits. Dr. Emge. Dr. Cadmen, the electro physiologist (pacemaker dude as my mom likes to call him). And a nurses assistant named Drew. She was nice, the nurse was okay, but I really liked Drew. It took them forever to get me aspirin for my headache. And I started to get a little anxious. I was getting annoyed and the headache wasn’t going away and I couldn’t move my leg. But finally after a few hours, I got food, my Prozac, and finally my aspirin. This is about the time Dr. Womack came in. He showed me pictures and videos about from my cath. And then he asked me “you’ve been a lot of trouble, are you worth it?“ my answer “Oh hell yeah I am, I am awesome.“ And then I was finally able to leave. For another night at the RMH. Again, they are amazing and I totally support them 100%. After that it was various visits to Dr. Emge’s office. Waiting for a date for my surgery and getting echo’s EKG’s and blood work. Dr. Emge was amazing. He totally understood how stressed I was. And there was a day when I felt he wasted my time and we where talking, joking, but he said something that hit a nerve, and I just had to walk away before I got angry. I left. He never held it against me. Just have to say I love my cardiologist. I finally got a date, July in Salt Lake City, Utah. The day before the surgery they called me and said they moved it. This of course made me mad. I went in to get my pre-op tests and talk to them about it. I met a doctor and I wont name any names. But he was a J@ck@ss and I let him know. He then proceeded to have another doctor tell me that I am in heart failure, I could drop dead any minute, and if I don’t have the surgery the give me five years to live. Then they told me they wouldn’t do the surgery. Which made me angry. It made my brother angry, he wanted to kick some @ss. Thanks Dan. I love my big brother, just have to mention. But it turned out for the very best. Dr. Emge made some calls, and found a surgeon in Spokane, Washington. Within a couple weeks, I was in Spokane. This time just with my mom and grandma, Dan couldn’t come. Wish he could have. A couple days before the surgery I met Dr. Worrall, the surgeon and Dr. Anderson the electro physiologist (again, my mom called him the pacemaker dude). My grandma managed to embarrass him with a sex question. Thanks grandma, we all needed that laugh. I felt 110% better. I liked theses guys and I felt so much more confident. So I got my Pre-op tests. Then had a couple days, to wait. The day of the surgery came fast. July 24, we where up at 5 am, and at the hospital checking in at 530 am. I don’t remember much of that morning just waiting and getting called back. My mom was the only one aloud to come with me. But eventually my mom got to bring grandma in. That’s the last I remember. Apparently when they where about to take me I grabbed my moms had and told her “I’ll be back” I made her bawl. I’m sorry mom, and I love you, your are the best!

Now there where many things I expected after open heart surgery. The thing I expected most was pain. But what I got was totally different.
The next thing I remember is waking up coughing. I was in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU). My eyes where so blurry I couldn’t see anything. And I heard someone say “hold your pillow” I didn’t know who it was or where they where but of course being me, I argued. But eventually did it, and it helped a lot. I remember coughing, my throat was so dry I thought it might crack. I remember asking “what time is it?” 2am. Then every 5 seconds. Water. But I couldn’t have water. So I got ice chips. And I just kept asking for them. And the nurse was like “you know what, its best not to throw up after open heart surgery” But I kept asking for them anyways. In between asking for ice chips I asked for two other things, the time, and most importantly my mother. She held me off till 5am but finally called my mom. I really wanted to see her. Next thing I remember is my mom coming in “Buda!” and gave me a huge hug. I remember her giving me a monkey pillow, from my grandma and a teddy bear from her. (I collect pillows and stuffed animals) I heard her asking can I bring her one of her blankets? I think maybe I said I was cold, I am always cold. And then she asked me “daddy or cherry?” and of course, I said daddy. it’s the closes thing I had to him being there with me. Next thing I know she’s back and putting the blanket over me. I swear it was 2 seconds. But I know she couldn’t get to the hotel and back that fast. Then one time she comes in with a little stuff dog from Dan. And then my patient advocate sent me flowers. They where trying to show them to me. But they weren’t aloud in the room so they where trying to show them through the door, still my eyes where to blurry I couldn’t make them out very well. And I was so drugged that when I actually got out of the hospital later and went back to the hotel I saw them and ask my mom “who sent you flowers?” She reminded me. There was three days of stupid drugged state. I only remember parts of these days. I remember my voice being really low, and thinking it was just a part of coming too. I remember my mom, she was aloud to give me a popsicle one time. She gave me my favorite. A red one. And then she put it down, and next thing I know she took a bite of it. And me, being a smart @ss said “ah you ate my popsicle.” I think this really helped my mom, to hear me joking. I don’t know for sure if it helped her, but it did help me. I remember drinking/eating the rest of the popsicle later. And getting a phone call. I’m not 100% sure when the phone call came, but I do know it came. Judi L. Called me. A lady I met on face book. She called to see how I was. It was the first person I talked to beside my mom, grandma, and nurses. I thought it was amazingly sweet. I never met her in person, and she still cared. So I got to talk to her for a minute. She asked how I was. She then told me that her and her son called the gift shop and eventually something would come to me. It came later that day. I was shocked how fast it came and didn‘t think it was from her. I opened it. And read the card. Sure enough it was from her and her amazing son. It was a beautiful heart necklace. Thank you Judi, I love it. You don’t know how much that phone call meant to me.

It was Sunday the 26 when I actually began remembering full days. That was the day my mom, the nurses and I realized that the voice just wasn’t me coming to. That’s the day I realized I had IV’s in both wrists. And that both my wrists where as purple as a plum. That’s the day I realized there was a tube sticking out of my neck and there where 4 sticking out of my stomach. And that I had a catheter. I figured I would, but I didn’t know it was there until that day. I wasn’t expecting the other tubes. I learned the neck tube was a central line and the other four where chest tubes. The rest of the day I remember talking to my mom and grandma, and joking with the nurses. I finally got to eat, and all I wanted was the fruit. Of course I had to eat slowly because my stomach wasn’t fully awake, but it was nice to eat. I remember them flushing the lines every four hours and the nasty taste of the saline. That was they day I realized I didn’t have much pain. Yes there was some but nothing like I expected. I was expecting excruciating pain. But what I got was soreness all over, nothing to horrible. And a headache, the worst headache of my life. The morphine wasn’t working so I asked if I could have something else. They looked at me like I was crazy. Apparently morphine is what the always give. But they gave me vicodin instead. It helped but put me to sleep. Every time I slept I held a pillow. Actually I held a pillow all the time. Who knew when I would begin coughing. Later that day I got out 3 chest tubes and the central line. I was afraid it would hurt when they pulled them out. But it wasn’t that bad. They told me to breath. It felt a little weird more then painful. The next day I got the last chest tube and catheter out. That was the day I was finally mobile. Its also the day I found the my right leg hurt any time I moved it. I sat up and put my legs on the floor and it would shake. I would sit for a minute and try and get it to stop. It never did so I would stand, it hurt horribly. But I managed to stand on my own. I got to actually use the bathroom, and then got to sit in the chair. It was nice to get out of the bed. Finally eat sitting up, in the bed I was sitting, but the chair is always better. I remember the nurse coming in to give me a sponge bath. At first it was a little embarrassing. But then after a second I though, what the hell, who cares. I’m so freaking dirty I was glad I was getting washed. I watched her wash me. And noticed that I had tape of my scar. My pacemaker scar was showing but there was tape over the other one. Darn I wanted to see it. Then I noticed that a lot of hair was stuck to the sticky’s on me. The nurse noticed too, she told me it was from the anesthesia. The rest of that day wasn’t to bad. I was up and to the bathroom a lot, it was kind of annoying but funny, I kept having to unplug myself to get up. And I watched television. When it got later my mom left. I always hated this part, I don’t like hospitals. But I was brave and I would kiss her goodbye and watch a little television or listen to my ipod and fall asleep. The next day the told me I needed to shower to be able to go up to the adult cardiac ward. I was so excited, not about moving, I liked the PICU nurses. But about the shower. My mom went and got me my clothes and my soaps, Of course, she had to come with to help me. But that wasn’t so bad. I got in the hot shower and just sat there for a couple minutes. It was amazing. And then I made myself wash and then let my mom wash my hair and sat in there a couple minutes longer. She had to help me get dressed. And brush my hair. But it wasn’t so bad. I felt amazing. I walked back to my room, limping the whole time. And the nurse where staring at me. But I was happy. Later they told me that reason they where staring at me was because the couldn’t figure out who I was. Then they realized I was one of their patients. They where shocked at how good I looked. Later that day I was moved up to the adult ward. It was a little said, I loved the PICU nurses. But I had to go. I got up there and wasn’t a huge fan of them. But I only had to stay there two nights.
My nights in the hospital, on both floors where a little annoying. They would come in every four hours to flush the lines. And to give me pain pills. They where shocked when I said no, I didn’t hurt. Well I did but it wasn’t to bad and I didn’t want the pills. They told me I have a VERY HIGH pain tolerance. Every night and every day I had breathing treatments. And every morning after the chest tubes where out around 4 am I got chest x-rays. My doctors came to see me every now and then. Dr. Jensen the other electro physiologist came to see me when Dr. Anderson was out. I also had a couple Cardiologists come and see my. Finally the last day in the PICU Dr. Anderson was back. He check my pacemaker. He couldn’t get the machine to work so I told him it didn’t like him. He then threw something in the waste basket and was like “3 points!” so me I was like Bullshit, that’s 1. We joked the rest of the visit. When I was moved to the adult floor I got an echo and Dr. Jensen came back. There was a student with the echo tech. She kept asking “where’s this, where’s that?” he would tell her “she doesn’t have one.” She found the fascinating. I didn’t mind, I hope she learned a lot. I finally convinced Dr. Jensen to let me go down to the cafeteria with my mom and grandma. He didn’t want to at first but then said okay. YAY! I was tired of walking the halls. So I finally got to see other parts of the hospital.
The day the discharged me was annoying but wonderful at the same time. I had to wait for a chest x-ray. There was still a little fluid buildup in my lungs. But they upped my diuretic dose (diuretics pull fluids from your body, and make you pee, a lot.) And I was aloud to leave. They told me to expect a week, if not more in the hospital. But I left on my 6th day. Of course I was excited. I didn’t have to stay the whole week. Sure it was only one day less, but I was happy. I wasn’t aloud to go back home for a few days. I had to go back for another chest x-ray a few days later. That’s when I was told the fluid was gone. And that I could go home. I was so excited. Dr. Jensen shook my hand and told me it was a pleasure. After we packed our stuff from the hotel we got in the truck, stopped at the drug store and started our 8 hour trip home to Idaho.
Being home was the greatest thing ever. I got to see my brother Dan, and Nate who is like a brother to me. I got hugs. And the helped get my stuff into my room. And moved my bed for me. They where awesome. The first week home was the hardest. I was tired and bored. I wanted to do things but I would get out of bed and be to tired to do anything so I laid back down. It sucked. But eventually I got better. The days slowly passed but every day I did a little bit more. I saw my cardiologist a week after we got home. Then again a couple weeks later. That day I got to see Dr. Cadmen again. He did a pacemaker check and told me I was in Atrial tachycardia. And I need a cardio version to shock my heart back into a normal rhythm. I’m still waiting for that, my coumadin level needs to be higher, but hopefully in a week it will come. It will be two months since the surgery in a couple days. And I am doing wonderful.
There was so many un expected things during this journey. But it was life altering. It made me more aware of CHD’s and it made me look at myself. I am so grateful for my life and am determined to love, and do things with my life. I am happier then ever.
This journey was the best thing to ever happen to me.

getting a date!

i get a date for my surgery on the 18th. i cant wait. im so stressed and getting a date i think might help..or it will make me alot more stressed. I just cant wait to get it done

ahh my leg is hurting where i had my cardiac catherization done.

(i got a little camera happy and had fun editing them. this picture is one of my faves!)