Happy 31st Birthday! Enjoy Your New Nonprogrammable Shunt Valve! Part 2

So..."last time on The Brain Saga" I was passing out a lot, magnetic paint could be the problem, The Magic Magnet Machine helped, and I was heading home from the hospital. The cliffhanger was that magnetic paint in fact DOES NOT have magnets in it.

Well after 24 hours of being home, my body did it again. The syncope was back. I was like a spineless rag doll, sit her up and see her fall. I pulled another stubborn bathroom stunt while Kyle ran an errand and had a swollen face to prove it. Of course I didn't tell Kyle about this incident or the hospital fall until his nerves were more calm and he could handle my ignorance. So a call was made to Basta and Research ER was our destination again. Since it was 10am on a random Thursday, the waiting room was empty, and just like before I went down in the BP chair...Deja Vue. The prodigal team showed up with the Magic Magnet Machine to see what setting the shunt was on. Surprisingly, the reading was 2.0 right where it should be, and as fast as they came into the ER room they left completely washing their hands of my case. "It is not the shunt, you need to contact your neurologist to find out the cause" I remember Basta saying as he packed up the Magic Magnet Machine in its accompanying suitcase like a hit man packs up his guns after a hit. Seeing I was very confused, scared, and panicked he offered, "maybe our office can call your neurologist to speed up the process" and he and his foxy NP disappeared.

Here, I recollect my emotions with great detail. ABANDONED would be the adverb to sum up how I felt. ABANDONED ABANDONED ABANDONED...I can't scream it enough. I was passing out with no assumed reason and no doctor trying to help us. And the doctor who had just fixed me the exact same week was telling me to leave the ER and make an appointment with a doctor who I hadn't seen in over 6 months. How was I going to get to the car without going unconsciousness, let alone live until I could get into the neurologist's office. Tears, moans, sweat, tremors, hyperventilation all came from my body. This time my panic was not going to publically hide. I signed the discharge papers in a fit and quickly evacuated the ER.

With my van seat reclined all the way back, I called my neurologist's office telling them the situation in an emergent manner (they probably thought I was a mad woman) and they could only offer me an appointment 2 weeks in the future. I may have laughed out loud at that notion? Now, Kyle is the epitome of a caring husband, but he couldn't be by my side every minuet of every day. Plus my headache was creeping back up to a 10 out of 10 on the pain scale.

We drove into the garage and I got out of the van with mad gusto! As I entered our laundry room I went down. Kyle was near and ready, so I don't think I hit the ground with the typical head/shoulder combination. What had come of me? I was laying on the dirty ground of my laundry floor looking up at Kyle who looked so helpless.

Through this we had indirect, more friendly support from our family doctor Dr. Blanner (for those Raytown grads, yes that Chris Blanner ;) and he shared an office space with my neurologist. Kyle called him hoping he would talk to the neurologist and get me a quicker appointment. I am not completely clear about what happened behind the scenes, but I think Dr. Blanner was communicating with Basta's office and my neuro's office trying to get them to help me. The Nuero wanted Basta to turn down my shunt setting and Basta wanted to blame it on my healthy heart or a undiagnosed autonomic condition (seemed far fetched). The bottom line was that neither doctor was going take control of my care. Poor Blanner, he was probably really second guessing his decision of taking me on as a patient after his residency. In medical school do they prepare students to care for panicked mothers who pass out when vertical. Especially when her specialists were being no help?
However, he and Kyle didn't think I should be just passing out at home, so Dr. Blanner admitted me into Lee's Summit Medical Center if for anything, to control the pain in my head. I was very skeptical about going into another hospital, but I was forcefully talked into it and the smart LSMC staff met me at the van with a horizontal gurney. Therefore, we avoided one of the ritual syncope episodes. After getting to my room without passing out, they stuck telemetry pads on my chest and pumped me full of pain killers and ant-nausea meds and I slept and slept and slept.

I recall waking up to begin to go down to have a Tilt Table Test to see if my heart was causing my symptoms. Kyle inquired about what was included in the test, so the nurses explained I would be put on a table that tilts to induce syncope. Both Kyle and I said skip that...I could make that happen simply by sitting up. Luckily the nurses relayed our concern and the cardiologist came to me, I sat up with telemetry pads, and I passed out, and my heart showed no signs of distress.

Meanwhile, Dr. Blanner was getting me transferred to KU Med's Nuero floor. For the trip nurses filled me up with pain killers and anti nausea meds and two EMTs paraded me through the hospital and put me in an ambulance with John Knox Village written on the side (another instance where I am living the life of an elderly person). But there was a nice surprise in the ambulance named Diego!! Now picture Dora the Explorer's cousin, Diego, except this Diego had hit the gym and cut his hair and he wasn't rescuing animals anymore. He had moved onto rescuing stinky, greasy haired 31 year old women high on Dilaudid. Needless to say he was a nice distraction to my headache. "Oh sure Diego, I will take some oxygen for the ride!" "Oh sure Diego, I will take another warm blanket." I would say while trying to not puke everywhere from the surprisingly very bumpy ambulance ride. The whole transport to KU is a story in itself, there was The John Knox Village ambulance and Diego and Freddie. He was the ghettofabulous security guard that met Diego and me in the KU ambulance bay. He graciously asked me how I was doin', but then he whipped out a metal detector and scanned me for what I assumed was weapons or bombs then he pat me down looking for more weapons. Hell, I couldn't even use the bathroom by myself let alone plan a deadly attack. This was probably a safety protocol, but caught me off guard and interrupted my flirting with Diego. For the record, Kyle is very aware of my infatuation with Diego the EMT and understands I was high and couldn't help myself.