I have talked about surgery #1 and surgery #3, but there was an unforeseen surgery in between those two. Being removed from the situation it makes me laugh thinking about it; however, Kyle and Mom would not agree. In the Spring of 2012 my health was great. I had healed and I was enjoying the relief the shunt offered. No headaches, no pulsations, and my palpadema was correcting itself. A week after Henry's 3rd birthday, I was taking a warm shower and felt light headed. This happened time to time because of low blood pressure. I got out and called for Kyle and he helped me to the bed and I recovered quickly. The next day I went to work (I co-taught a pre-K class and had only been back for a month) and I had a mild headache. It was lunch time which meant a lot of bending up and down to pull off yogurt caps, open zip lock bags, and pour peach juice out of plastic containers. As I sat down to eat my lunch I felt wacky, and BAM! I went down to the ground hitting the right side of my neck and head. I woke up and had six little 5- year-olds looking at me. You would think they would ask if I was ok, but no...they are 5-year-olds and they were not aware of why Ms April would be sprawled out on the ground. One little boy, Hunter, held his pudding down to me and asked " Miss April, have I eaten enough of my healthy food to eat my dessert?" I just tell him yes and sneak into the office near by. My co-teacher really didn't know what to do with me; hell...I didn't know what to do with me. They called Kyle and he came and picked me up.
Forgive my foggy recollection, but I believe I went down again at home, so Kyle called the neurosurgeon on call, and I ended up back at Research's ER. We walk in on a Friday evening and the waiting room is packed, which frightened Kyle because I was a ticking time bomb. I could go down at any moment. We checked in and sat with 30 other eager patients. After 5 minuets, a nurse called me back for a preliminary BP, temperature, and heart rate check. I started feeling wonky again and I told the nurse I need to lay down. However, before she accommodated me, I went down. I was startled awake with 50 wires attached to me, and a nurse scolding me "if you don't want me to rip your shirt off, you need to corporate." What? Why is she yelling at me? Kyle came back and reassured the nurses that they could stop the emergency code red response and that I was temporarily fine, but needed to lay horizontal. After the nurses left, I gave Kyle a high five and he asked why? I said because it was the first time my crappy health condition was a positive. My syncope (fancy talk for "passing out") bumped us up on the 2 hour wait we were looking at in the waiting room. He wasn't really seeing any humor in our situation.
ER ran CTs, blood tests, urine tests, and EKG on my heart. All they could gather is I had a UTI and that could cause a headache and syncope. However, they weren't real confident in that diagnosis so they slapped a red "fall risk" band on my wrist sent me up to the 6th floor until my neurosurgeon could see me on Monday (two days away).
Once I got in my room the admit nurse was asking all the typical questions and while I sitting up, I blacked out again until Kyle could get me horizontal in the bed. I think I freaked that nurse out because she threatened to put me on "Bed Alarm". I was not to get out of bed without someone in the the room with me. I agreed, but I wasn't seriously going to ask someone to come in the room so I could use the bathroom. Well, that stubbornness bit me in the butt. I talked Kyle into going home, and the IV fluids began to fill my bladder in the middle of the night, so I got out of bed to use the restroom. A few minuets later I woke up laying on my right side in the middle of the bathroom with my underwear at my knees, my hospital gown wide open, and the IV pole laying across me. Tile impression marks were on my cheek. Scared of the elusive "Bed Alarm," I picked the pole and myself up, pulled my underwear up and ran to my bed before anyone saw me.
The next day, the neurosurgeon-on-call saw me and claimed my scans looked clean and that it was NOT the shunt malfunctioning. When we asked him some benign questions, he became very bothered by us and rudely offered to take the whole shunt out. We shut up, so he would leave the room as quick as he entered. Thanks to our family doctor, I learned you can request a doctor NOT to round to you, so that is what we did with him. Shunt, heart, and brain were ok...could a UTI really keep causing this?
Meanwhile, our family doctor came to the hospital as a visitor and brought his newborn daughter. Despite my track record, he let me hold her, but while I was sitting. After about 10 minuets of baby, I managed to safely pass the baby off to Kyle before I blacked out again (if you are counting, this is about the 8th time in 3 days).
Monday morning came and Basta and the gorgeous NP swooped in from a vacation. I explained all the passing out and headaches. When I sat up for the duo to do a basic neurological exam, another impeccably timed syncope episode occurred causing me to go right into Dr. Basta's chest. This was the third time I managed to pass out into him or the accompanying NP. Kyle put me horizontal like a trained aid and probably gave them an "I told you so" look. But during the previous conversation, I dropped a possible piece to the puzzle. The classroom I taught in was covered in magnetic paint. Now, you may ask why does that have to do with anything? Furthermore, I hope you are ready for a CSI: Miami moment. Since getting the shunt, magnets had become as hostile to me as nuts are to Moe. The shunt valve was opened (allowing more fluid to drain) and closed (allowing less fluid to drain) with a MAGNET! I was warned of magnets and dutifully traded my fridge magnets with double stick tape. During the surgery, he set me at a middle setting and after two weeks of nausea and dizziness we decided that the valve was draining too much and needed to be closed a bit. So Basta revealed his Magic Magnet Machine. This contraption could adjust the valve setting through my scalp. Amazing, huh? He simply put it up to my valve and the Magic Magnet Machine closed the shunt through magnetic force. This was AWESOME because it was a noninvasive way to fix my over-drainage. Now apply that knowledge to the idea of a magnet-drenched classroom I spent 6 hours a day in. Waaa-laaa! a possible answer? Maybe not an answer, but a hint. They got the Magic Magnet Machine down to my room and sure enough my setting had moved from a 2 to a .5 (meaningless to the reader, I know). So basically the valve was open so much it was depleting my brain of CSF; thus, the brain was collapsing on itself. He adjusted me back to a 2.0 and made me stay in the hospital for another 24 hours. And it proved to be a solution. My work was very willing to put me in another room and I hadn't passed out in over 24 hours. I was ready to move on until one of my engineer-oriented friends questioned the actual ingredients in magnetic paint. After hours on Google, I realized magnetic paint is made with water based paint and rust flecks, no actual magnets. Well crap! There goes that hypothesis, but I was getting better and that is all that mattered.
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