This may have been the week to end all weeks. In fact, most of it is a blur and I don't remember many of the details, or how I actually survived. It was tough I tell ya, tough!
Monday was my 2 week incision check with my OB. I was actually excited to go to the appointment because I had a laundry list of complaints. For about 5 days prior, I just wasn't feeling well, with my worst symptom being the most insane headache I'd had for years. On Monday, in particular, it was so bad that I told Ross it felt like my brain was on fire.
Well, it was.
First, we all took Quinn to the doctor for his 2 week checkup. All was well (another post...) and we loaded up in the truckster and headed to my appointment. By the time I got into the exam room my head was just pounding, worse than it had been all day long. My doc came in, I told him of my symptoms and he checked my blood pressure. It was something like 160/99. Pretty high. We talked for a few minutes about the fact that I could have postpartum toxemia and he rushed me down to the lave for some blood draws. I was a STAT order!
My doc called me later that evening to tell me that all my blood work was normal. I'd been checking my pressures at home and they were a bit sporadic, but nothing as high as when I was in the office. It had been a long day - my first full day back on mom duty as a mother of three. So maybe the pressure was just getting to me?
Because my labs were normal and my BP wasn't totally insanely crazy, my doc just told me over the phone to take it easy and monitor myself for the next day or so and if the majority of my pressures were over 140/90 to give him a call.
I followed instructions and on Tuesday, I seemed to be okay. The headache was bad but bearable and as long as I spend most of my time with the baby, ignoring the two iggies, I did okay. But Tuesday was the calm before the storm.
Wednesday started out fine and in the late morning, my father-in-law took charge of the boys so I could have a bit of quiet. All was well and I actually felt okay, better than I had on Monday at least. The headache revved up around 1:00. The boys came home around 1:20 or so. I checked my blood pressure and I was high - 164/96. I took all three boys into the bedroom for some "quiet time" and sat on the floor with Quinn. As soon as I sat down, I started to shake. My head was spinning, I felt dizzy and my brain was warm, like something had burst in my head. It was all I could do to tell the boys to stay in their room and get into mine with the baby.
I closed the door. I sat down and checked my blood pressure. 177/114. Holy freakin' cow. I started to shake hard and started to sob. I texted and called Ross and he rushed home. I must have been quite a sight because as soon as he got home, he got all three boys ready, called my doctor (left a message) and was trying to get me up and out of the house to take me to the emergency room at the local hospital. I couldn't stand. I couldn't talk. I was soaking in sweat and quite literally thought that I might die - that something in my brain had burst.
For the next 20 minutes, as we waited for my doctor to call back, my blood pressure fluctuations were insane. Finally, we got word....I should be put to bed immediately and a prescription for a medication (Labetalol) that I'd taken before Elliott was born was being called in to the pharmacy. Ross got me to bed, covered me with the biggest, warmest quilt we have, put an ice pack on my head and left me and my melting brain to sleep.
He woke me hours later with medication.
That was Wednesday night. Today, two days later, two days with a new medication in my system, I finally feel like I'm out of a fog I've been in for nearly two weeks. I feel okay today. I have almost no headache today. I feel fairly calm today. The last two weeks have been the hardest of my life maybe, physically speaking. I've had to try and keep my act together when I've felt so awful, so out of sorts, that I just wasn't sure I would actually survive the day.
Thank heavens for a good husband who can help me and only works 12 minutes from home. If he hadn't have been able to come home, who knows what would have happened.