A time for everything.

My recent stay in the hospital was difficult, even more difficult than the stay in September that kept me away from Hayden. At least with that one and the one for the surgery I was heavily medicated.
I went to the ER thinking I would be prescribed antibiotics and sent home. When they started a drip of Vancomiacin, I knew I wasn't going home. On Sunday they said I'd be going home on Tuesday. When I spiked a fever early Tuesday morning I knew I wasn't going home and had a bit of a break down. I called David crying, and then my mom called and I started crying again. I don't handle fevers well anyway and when you combine a fever with a lonely hospital room it makes for a very whinny Sandra.
From my count I was poked for blood draws a total of 15 times, some were successful and others were not. My veins seem to sense needles and put on their armor of steel. By Thursday the doctors decided to stop playing around and ordered a CT, echo of the heart, EKG, and an echo of both legs to rule out a blood clot. The CT was nasty. I'm almost certain that whatever they give you via IV kills cells. It feels like your cells are melting and makes you feel like you are wetting your pants even though you aren't. At least it didn't last as long as the MRI I had in September, and the little hole they put you in is open on both sides so there was no claustrophobic reaction. It was very cool to see an echo of my heart post operation. The last tech to do one before the surgery showed me the hole and how the blood shunted from the right chamber to the left. This time I was able to point out the repair on my own. There was no shunting.
Thursday afternoon I had the worst case of chills I have ever had in my life and I've had a lot of fevers. My entire body shook so hard I'm not sure how I stayed on the bed and I was certain I was going to either bite my tongue off or chip a tooth. Luckily my dad and step-mom had stopped by for a visit and she covered me in blankets so I could at least get comfortable. My temp went up to 102.5 and finally broke an hour and a half after taking 800mg Motrin.
By Friday morning they had ruled out every other possible diagnosis. The infectious disease team came in and ran a few more tests to rule out pneumonia because there is a slight void in my left lower lung. It's most likely a result of the surgery and me not taking deep enough breaths because it hurts. All of the tests came back negative leaving pericarditis as the only possibility. As soon as they put me on Motrin the fevers went away.
By Saturday morning I'd gone 36 hours without a fever and all of the specialists agreed I could go home. I called David at 7:30 in the morning and told him to COME GET ME! He arrived around 9:30 and I had been ready to go for an hour. I jumped in the wheel chair ( they make you leave by wheel chair) and told David to get me out of there before they found a reason to keep me.
Since coming home I've had no fevers, chills, or body aches. I can feel when I'm over doing it and I take a rest. Mentally I'm ready for this to be over. I am ready to be back to my old self again. I'm crossing my fingers that nothing else hinders the recovery process.