Content Warning: This post is about my trip to the Emergency Room and admission to the ICU and contains content related to hospital stays

To say it's been a week doesn't even begin to cover it!

Over the weekend I mostly felt fine. I filled the food in my bird feeder on Sunday, felt a bit woozy but rested for a few minutes and felt normal again.

On Monday morning I had a different bird feeder that I needed to fill. I had the same woozy feeling but this time it didn't go away.

I really thought I just needed some rest and I'd go back to normal. No dice. At 1pm while talking to doctor colleague about a project I gave her an update  on my cancer journey. I also described my symptoms and she said something to the effect of "why aren't you at Urgent Care right now? It sounds like you have a blood clot."

So off to Urgent Care Emily and I went and I started to just feel worse. At the urgent care they did a couple of blood tests that showed a high likelihood of a blood clot.

By 3:30 I was in an ambulance on my way to the ER. By 4:30 I had a CT Scan. By 5:15 the results were back and showed I had two clots in my Pulmonary Artery. Also known as a Pulmonary Embolism. In my case, a saddle pulmonary embolism. Turns out this is the worst one to have (I did not know this at the time).

I was given two options. Blood thinning medication which might work, would take some time, and likely lead to damage on my heart because of the amount of time it would take to resolve. Or I could have a thrombectomy done. This had some risks associated with it (death being one of them) but given the options it seemed like the better one.

By 5:45 I agreed to the thrombectomy and with that I was whisked off to Interventional Radiology Lab (IRL) to wait for my procedure.

Before it was started I was given a brief run down. They make a small incision in the groin area at one of the main veins. A guide wire is then inserted into my vein and coaxed up to the location of the clots where it is then sucked out. The procedure, depending on complexity and number of clots, usually takes about 30 - 60 minutes.

Oh, and I'll be awake for the entire procedure!

The thrombectomy started at 7:07PM. I know this because the nurse announced the time. The doctor and team started the process. I was given some local anesthetic. I won't go into the gory details, but needless to say ... it felt weird. I spent this time listening to the music that they played (which was actually really good) and thinking about Abby and Emily

And it took nearly 1 hour 40 minutes to complete. Apparently my anatomy had some complexity (that's the word the doctor used) that made it a bit more difficult to get in and get the clots. But they got them. Both of them. Each about 2 inches (5 cm) long. I felt so much better. My heart was still freaking the fuck out, but it was starting to calm down. I was starting to calm down.

I was sent to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) due to protocol surrounding a thrombectomy. It's a minimally invasive procedure, BUT they are putting stuff into some pretty sensitive areas (my heart and lungs) and so i needed to be monitored every hour. I did not sleep well that night but the night shift nurse John was awesome and compassionate and friendly.

I was hooked up to a pulse oximeter, an automatic BP cuff that would run once an hour, and an ECG machine that monitored my heart rate continuously. I also had an IV drop of Heparin (a blood thinner).

And every four hours I had labs drawn.

When I 'woke' up in the morning I met my new day shift nurse Andrea. She was equally caring, compassionate,  and nice.

While I was just kind of laying there, waiting, my friend Zack that works at the hospital surprised me. He walked in slowly, said "Hey Ryan. How you doing man?" Came over and gave me a hug. I started to cry immediately. I did not expect him to stop by. I wash awash in emotions. I told him I was so happy to see him. I wiped the tears from my eyes and we chatted for a while.

Andrea came in after Zack left and I asked about breakfast. I wasn't hungry, but I wasn't NOT hungry either. The last meal I had was ay about 11:45am the day before so I'd gone 20+ hours without food.

Andrea said that she'd have to check with the ICU team of doctors to see if any other procedures were planned for me for the day. If not, I'd be able to eat. If there were ... well it was unclear when I'd be able to eat again.

By about 10am it was decided that I wouldn't have any more procedures and that I could have breakfast. It was the best french toast and scrambled eggs ever! Maybe not actually, but the food at the hospital was actually really good.  

For the rest of the day Emily was there with me. I napped as much as I could (I still had the automated BP) and was being checked by the nurse every hour. I ate lunch (BBQ, macaroni salad, and cornbread) in a chair instead of laying in bed (like I did with breakfast). Again, this was better than it had any right to be.

In the early afternoon I was transition from ICU level of care to standard level of care, but I was still in the ICU. This basically just meant that the ICU docs had discharged me to a lower level of care set of doctors but the Nurses were still checking in on me. I was visited by PT/OT and went for a short walk around the ICU. They were very impressed with how well I did.

I could see why. Of the 8 patients in the ICU, I was the only one that looked like they could get out of bed. I was the only one that was under the age of 65. I kind of felt like I didn't belong honestly. After I was done the PT/OT said I was cleared to go on short walks around the ICU with the nurse when I wanted to. I was very excited. I had been laying down for about 18 hours at that point and I was a bit stir crazy.

Later in the afternoon my friends Andrea and Dean stopped by to visit. Because the ICU only allows two visitors at a time Emily went home to get some stuff taken care of. They stayed until visiting hours were done (at 6pm) and then I was just hanging out, waiting for the next set of visiting hours to open so Emily could come back at around 8:30.

At about 8:15 I asked John (the night shift nurse) if I could go for a walk and we did. We chatted a bit during our walk. He said it was nice to be able to actually talk with a patient. Based on what I was seeing in the ICU there aren't a lot of patients that can verbalize much of anything. He said, "We don't get many Walkie Talkies in the ICU", i.e. there aren't many people like me in the ICU those that can walk and talk.

Emily got there at about 8:35 and we chatted and sat together. She left at about 10. She looked exhausted and I really wanted her to get a good night's sleep. After she left John and I went for another walk. I was able to brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

<sidenote>
As I was laying down I told John that part of my process for dealing with my cancer diagnosis was to write posts (like this one). I said I had been struggling for a title for this week, but finally came up with one based on our conversation ... "Walkie Talkies". 
</sidenote>

Because I had been in the ICU for 24 hours and that's all the protocol really required, I knew that I might be bumped out if the bed was needed. In general hospitals try really hard to not move patients in the middle of the night, but the ICU is kind of different. I fell asleep at 10:30. At 11:30 John came in, apologized, but let me know that the bed was needed so I'd be moved.

The process was pretty painless and a little before midnight I was in my new room. I had a roommate now, but he was asleep. I felt bad for all the ruckus that was being made on my account, but I'm not sure he woke up at all.

I had more blood work done when I arrived and was hooked up to a new set of monitors. The automated Blood Pressure system wasn't in my new room so it would have to be done manually. That was actually a good feeling because it meant that I might be able to get some solid sleep.

And sleep I did until about 4am when the nurse came in to do a blood sugar check and a BP reading. I was awake for a little while and finished up a video that Abby had sent to me (it was really good!).

At 6am they woke me again. They were concerned with my Glucose levels and wanted to do an A1c to see what that looked like. It came back at a 12.2. Enough to be categorized as a type II diabetic if it stays consistent. My last results in January showed me at the higher end of still not pre-diabetic (5.5), but these new levels were concerning (to me). The nurse said that they should be monitored, but that my body had been through a lot and so they may go back down.

At that point I was up for the day. I was able to get up, use the bathroom and brush my teeth. It felt nice to feel more normal. I was still hooked up to the Heparin IV, which was a little unwieldy to move around, but I was able to do it all on my own. I started to feel more like myself.

They brought breakfast at about 6:30 and it was another good one. Honestly, all those jokes about hospital food not being good ... I think they may need to be updated!

At about 7:30 they disconnected me from the IV and gave me two Eliquis pills (a blood thinner). I was now totally disconnected and could walk around if needed. I really wanted to go for a short walk, but I also knew I probably needed someone to walk with me AND I really wanted Emily to be the first person to walk with me. She arrived at about 8:45 and I said, "Hey, want to see the new trick I can do?"

She looked at me apprehensively and said, "Sure"

I sat up, then stood up. I then asked her if we could go for a walk. She looked stunned! We walked around the floor, pretty slowly. While it felt good, laying down constantly for almost 40 hours has an impact on you.

We got back to the room, hugged each other, and cried. It was the happiest cry. On Monday I had a major, life threatening, medical emergency. Today I was able to walk and talk with no issues.

The nurse came in again at about 10:30 and said that I was ready to be discharged. Emily asked how long the process would take and the nurse said about 10 minutes. We weren't quite ready to leave that quickly, and my friend Becca was going to come visit.

Becca got there at about 10:45 and stayed until lunch was delivered at 11:45.

I ate my lunch, and let the nurse know I was ready to leave.

My discharge paperwork was handed over to me, and about 20 minutes later a wheel chair was inside my room, ready to take me to my car.

As I was wheeled down to the car the wheel chair runner and I chatted a bit. He was an older gentleman and was very chatty. A nice guy though. I didn't ever catch his name, which I had been really good about up to that point!

I guess I was so wrapped up in the fact that I was going to get to go home I just forgot.

As we left the hospital I kind of watched the world go by with a bit more wonder and awe than I usually do.

I got home and googled a bit on the saddle pulmonary embolism. I'm really glad I didn't know on Monday what I know now. It was way more serious than I understood. I'm not sure if my memories are adding in looks of grave concern on the faces of the medical staff in the ER, or if it was actually there.

On any given day any one of us has a chance to die. Some days that chance is 0.000001% and other days it's very close to 100%.

On Monday I'm not sure what my chances were, but it sounds like they were closer to 100% than 0.000001%, and that's some scary shit to think about.

I've thought a lot about what happened this week. I think a lot about the love from my friends and family, the caring of the medical staff at the hospital. I can't put into adequate words how it makes me feel.

Most of these words are just me trying to cope with what happened. Not sure I'll actually go back and proofread any of this. I might just post it, because, Fuck it, this is for me.

But I will say this, I don't have any words that I can use to adequately describe how loved I felt this week. I know that there were people thinking of me, and praying for me. I know that people loved me so much that they were the thing that got me through this. I couldn't have done it without them and for that I am truly grateful.

At one point I might be able to think about this without crying. That day is not today though, and that's OK.