Home

My sister was there with the girls waiting for Rob and me.

It felt so strange to be home, like so much time had gone by. Things were strange but also totally familiar.











Here's Lily's heartbreaking get well soon card I found in a pile of papers. It has a drawing of our house and the hospital connected by a tiny winding road with the words, "I love you. I miss you. you are so far away." Uggh.


Here's EJ's medicine graph. I was spacey and had a very hard time remembering when to take my meds and if I had taken them so she made me a helpful tool, that I would forget to use.

So many lovely cards, a healing basket, a couple hearts, chickens and a special lamp made of Selenite that has healing properties and glows beautifully. It is heavy and solid and was sent by a dear family friend in Sedona.
It all cheered me whenever I went by the dining room table.


Here's me drawing up my Zofran to help with the nausea. The visiting nurses came and explained everything and gave me all the syringes, alcohol wipes and directions I could ever need.



My sister left me this healing affirmation and my dear friend brought me new Virgin of Guadalupe to watch over me from my Reiki Grid.













My hands looked so strange without my rings, but I wasn't ready to put them on yet. I didn't quite feel like myself, yet. Not. Quite. Ready.




















My sister and mother took turns helping me out at home and driving me to doctor appointments. Friends brought amazing plentiful food, called and checked on us. I felt so tired and blessed but also a bit mopey and sad, like there was a gray veil between me and the shining world that I should be so happy to be part of again.

I listened to Lucinda William's Sweet Old World:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWJCu3d6EX0

over and over again. It reminded me of all the reasons I was so lucky to be alive and distracted me from all the catching up I had to do.

Then I got this marvelous book in the mail from a friend and I was lost in it for at least a week. What fun, staying up late and distracting myself with the thrilling story! I didn't think about all the bills, my still deaf ear, going back to work, piles of mail and mess and emails, or the long term effect of my illness on my children (turned out they were a bit angry and upset about me disappearing one morning and not coming back for 6 days!)
























The weeks went by in a blur. I took naps when I could. I sat around with my girls. Cookie came back from my sister's where she had a lovely time. My nausea passed as the days went by. My midline came out, floomp! and I got to take antibiotic pills for three weeks. Slowly, I was getting stronger.

Going Home

My third blood culture came back negative, so I could go home! No more Strep A germs were lurking in my blood. Suddenly there were discharge planners and visiting nurses and things to sign. I was going home!

A specially trained nurse came to put my midline in so I could continue to take IV antibiotics when I got home. She had to clear out the room and get dressed in a gown, mask and hat to perform the sterile procedure. Even I had to wear a mask and try not to cough or sneeze while the nurse stuck a really long IV tube into the vein in my elbow, then fed the tubing into my vein all the way up to my shoulder, then she secured the tube in place with special tape.

Rob packed up my flowers and clothes and I headed out by wheelchair. I was feeling frail and perplexed. I felt like I entered the hospital when it was winter and leaving, it felt like spring. The air was brisk and I felt confused by all the noises. With the one ear still only hearing about 10% it was difficult to know where noises were coming from.

I was craving a chicken kabob from Amanouz, a restaurant in Northampton where we always used to go before we had kids. Rob was a bit puzzled why I wanted to go there, we hadn't been in so long and I wasn't eating much, but he was glad to be bringing me home and pleased I was eating. It was almost like I had lost awareness of the more recent years, and it seemed like Amanouz was the place to go.

I ate only a few bites of the chicken kabob, but it was perfect. The peppermint tea was delicious; warm and strong. I looked around at the lively restaurant and to the street outside while Rob ate and then I checked my horoscope in the local paper. I love Free Will Astrology and was glad I found an old paper and could read my horoscope from the week I missed.

Acupuncturists identify an energetic point in the ear called the spirit gate. If it's stuck closed, the spirit is locked in; if it's stuck open, the spirit is always coming and going, restless and unsettled. What's ideal, of course, is that the spirit gate is not stuck in any position. Then the spirit can come and go as it needs to, and also have the option of retreating and protecting itself. I'd like you to imagine that right now a skilled acupuncturist is inserting a needle in the top of your left ear, where it will remain for about 20 minutes. In the meantime, visualize your spirit gate being in that state of harmonious health I described.




I read it a few times and showed Rob. Even he was struck by the talk of the left ear. I wondered what my illness was telling me. But I was tired and ready to see my kids.

We took the highway home.

Springfield 2

My bed was wheeled onto the window side of the room with a view of a tall brick building. This time I had a roommate. I was more stable now, but family still took turns staying with me. My mother lightly sleeping, spending the night beside me on two chairs with a folded blanket on them. My sister giving me ice chips and replacing my cool cloths. Rob holding my hand.


My sister set up my altar which included two battery powered candles which caused a few employees to run into the room panicking, thinking that I had open flames going with all the oxygen around the unit, but after a while everyone got used to it. The candles threw a gentle light at night (one of the other nurses asked my nurse if I was having a seance.) The nurses were amazing, mostly young and energetic. They had to be, to work on this very busy floor! They seemed to be having fun, though. They were kind and funny and worked to get me what I needed to get better. They were so good to me. If I wasn't a nurse already I would have wanted to become one after a week in the hands of all my different nurses. Doctors came and went and they, too, were working make sure the antibiotics were working and I was improving every day.

But I felt miserable. My ear was draining sticky yellow onto my pillowcase and down the side of my head. I was feeling exquisitely nauseous all the time and heaving regularly, but nothing was coming up because I hadn't eaten for days. I had a treacherous cough that woke me up and then made me gag and retch. My foley catheter was pulling and tugging and it hurt when I moved. When I had to go to the bathroom they brought me a bedpan. It felt wrong to take a dump lying down in bed! All these this was minuscule compared to the fact I had almost died, but I had missed much of that drama because I had been too busy being delirious or sleeping.


The infectious disease doctor came to check on me, apparently I had met him in the Baystate ICU the night when I was admitted, but everyone had been masked and I wasn't all there, so I didn't recognize him. He was lovely; smart, kind, personable and very clear. He gave me a strong look and said, "They called from Franklin and woke me up in the middle of the night Wednesday to consult. I was very worried about you. It's good to see you here. You look much better than you did that night." He told us that he had figured out it was the strep A once we informed him the girls had strep at school.

He said to Rob, "It's a good thing you dragged her in when you did. Another day and I don't want to think about what would have happened."
Rob shook his head and we laughed. He admitted ,"I tried to go to work. I was on my way out the door."
"Well it's a very good thing you brought her in when you did."
We were all quiet for a moment, imagining if he hadn't.

Then he told us that Strep A grows very fast but is killed efficiently by antibiotics and doesn't effect the heart. I was on Ceftriaxone and Vancomycin for IV antibiotics. I was off the antivirals and antifungals. The spinal tap had looked positive in the beginning but turned out to be negative for bacteria, just positive for inflammation which was from the ear infection being so close to the brain. My fever was gone and they were going to run some more labs to make sure the infection in my blood was gone. I was in the hospital for 6 days and I remained on Springfield 2 the rest of my stay. In the beginning I slept alot and my family was there, but as I got more perky my family finally left me alone sometimes and went home and got some

rest and continued to help Rob at home with the girls.


The first time I was alone I was resting and then had one of my coughing fits which led to gagging and retching. It must have sounded pretty wretched to my roommate on the other side of the curtain. I heard a voice pipe up from the elder tiny Latina woman who was in the bed next to me.

"You OK, Baby?"
I didn't answer. I figured she was on the phone.
She asked again. "Baby, are you OK?" Maybe she meant me.
I asked tentatively through the curtain, "Do you mean me?"
She answered cheerfully, "Yes, baby. Everything is OK. It's going to be OK . Just pray to God."

I was pleased to have someone keeping an ear out for me and calling me baby. Later she sang a prayer for a while. A tune I knew but I couldn't quite catch. It was very soothing.

I found myself humming and singing this Enya song from Lord of the Rings.
I couldn't get it out of my head.
I had downloaded not long before this fiasco.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ce6ZNMeZOmA
I wished I could hear it, but I kept forgetting to tell Rob to bring his ipod.


My night nurse for most of the nights was very encouraging. She had been sick with meningitis earlier in the year and had been delirious, too. (I didn't have meningitis, but our symptoms were similar) She made my mother and I feel better when she talked about not recognizing her husband and trying to sneak out of her hospital bed at midnight to "go to the library" One night she came in and noticed my chest was covered in a rash. It was about an hour after the Ceftriaxone was given and I was vomiting really intensely. She called the doctor, but he said that no one is allergic to Ceftriaxone and he wanted to keep me on it because It killed both the strep A and also got rid of meningitis (which he didn't think I had but he wanted to be extra cautious.)


I couldn't keep down water but I was terribly thirsty. I tried ginger ale and it was amazing! delicious! cold and fizzy! At first I took sips, then I could empty half a glass. I hit my call bell frequently for cold ginger ale. My day revolved around when to ask for ginger ale, tasting the ginger ale! Then still feeling nauseous and retching after a bit. They took my foley out. Hallelujah! I was so glad to have it out, even though it burned like hell when I peed that first day. (I will have exponentially more sympathy for my patients when they complain about their catheter and the discomfort!) So now I could get up with my IV pole to pee. It was a shock to see myself in the mirror. I was really puffy from the IV fluid. The left said of my face was much bigger because I had been lying on that side non-stop to let my ear drain. My hair was matted and messy. I looked terrible! Thankfully, a lovely aide named Ramona came and gave me a full bed bath with lots of soap, she even combed my hair. I felt so much better. I was so tired and weak the day revolved around tiny things, like, "Should I get up now to pee or should I call for more ginger ale? What if they take a long time to come when I call and then I'm in the bathroom ? Hmmm" and then I would nod off for a bit. Other interesting parts of the day were if I could reach the phone when it rang (usually not), napping with my mouth open and getting shots of Heparin in my belly twice a day to prevent blood clots because I was lying in bed day and night. The time went so slowly. Rob tried to get me to watch TV to distract me and make the time pass but it gave me a headache and daytime TV was painfully depressing. The days were so long. I couldn't believe I had once been an active busy person who complained that there weren't enough hours in the day!

It also brought back memeories of being sick when I was pregnant. I get terribly nauseous. When I was pregnant with Georgia I had to be hospitalized three times and went home with a midline IV in my inner elbow that gave me IV fluids and medicine from a little backpack so I could live without drinking. I. Could. Not. Drink. It was torture, but the glory of motherhood had fogged up the memories. This time as I lay there with my mouth salivating in that state of horrific pre-puke, the minutes going achingly slow, my body growing weak after days in bed I thought, "Oh I can't have another baby. I can't put myself and my body through that again! In many ways I had let go of having a third baby for practical reasons like money and time, but it hit me that I could not endure that suffering again.


I felt really guilty for having scared everyone half to death. They had to endure the horror of not knowing if I would make it through the infection alive. Horrible! I can't imagine how that must have felt. Lucky for me, I was removed from a fear of dying. I felt very peaceful. I knew I was in very competent hands and knew everyone was doing whatever could be done, but I also felt an almost pleasant resignation that if I was to die, it would be OK. I would be fine. It seemed light and easy, like the transition would be sweet for me. I was so lost from the world I didn't fathom what it would mean to those around me. Once I came out of the intense sickness and delirium I felt guilty for being OK leaving this world, for forgetting my children even existed! Uggh! I felt confused. I didn't know what season it was or what was going on the in the world. When Rob talked about the puppy I was puzzled. I had no attachment to her. She didn't seem real. Days went by and I couldn't see my kids and I didn't talk to them on the phone. I was leaning over a puke bucket most of the time and didn't feel like I could talk to them without sounding depleted and frightening.



I had a new roommate who was quite sick. She was about 70 and had many health problems I couldn't help but hear about. She was on fluid restrictions which meant she could only drink 2 cups of water a day. She was so thirsty (and pissed off that she couldn't drink) that she rang her call bell constantly and asked every one who came in to get her ginger ale. She yelled at staff walking by, "NURSE!" and they'd poke their head in. "Please I need a glass of ginger ale!" Usually they'd say, "I'll ask your nurse." with a smile and then come back to tell her no. But sometimes they would say OK and she would be so excited, "Thank you Thank you!" but it would never come. Someone must have stopped them in the kitchen. I felt guilty when the nurses and aides passed by her with my nice cold cups of ginger ale.


I had another rash with the ceftriaxone and they had to take me off it and put me on meropenum, which is really pricey. When the infectious disease doc came back he was pleased I was looking even better and we talked about the antibiotics I was on. I asked him about going home and he said, "Oh, I don't know anything about that, but you'll be going home with a midline and you'll be on antibiotics for a while." I was shocked. Another midline! I just wanted to be done! "Will I be able to work?" I had disappeared from all three of my jobs quite dramatically and wanted to get back to work as soon as I could. He laughed and leaned against the windowsill, "You can work with the midline, but you won't be able to. You're going to be very tired for a while. You were very very sick. Your body is going to need to rest." Rob and I looked at each other. Sigh. But Rob was thrilled I might be coming home soon. I was overwhelmed by the idea of dealing with anything other than sleeping, getting up to the bathroom and starting off into space.



Doctors and nurses came and went. I kept telling them I was nauseous and they kept trying to find something to help me. Finally they doubled my zofran IV dose to 8 mg every 4 hours IV push and that helped a teensy bit. Then I remembered when I was so incredibly nauseous in the hospital 4 years earlier when I was pregnant with Georgia that eating helped even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. So I started to eat pineapple and watermelon. My family was so happy! My sister brought me lovely fresh pineapple and I ate it all. Then I started to eat yogurt and strawberries. It was quite a victory. Every time I ate, I felt a tiny bit better. The zofran and the eating seemed to be helping so I could sit up and talk a bit.


Rob came in to visit and I told him he had to pay the bills quick or they would turn off the electricity and that the mortgage was due. He has no idea how to pay the bills. I had to talk him through where the checks were and which bills to pay and which to ignore. He was under so much stress. He had to keep working because we needed the insurance and he had already used up all of his sick time this year, being sick himself or staying home with the girls. If he took anymore his benefits would start to be put on hold and then who would pay for my hospital stay?! So, he was working, minding the children, worrying about and visiting me, answering phone calls and talking with people who came to drop off food. He was on total overload. He went to get cultured for strep, as everyone in the family did, and he asked for some anti-anxiety meds. Something to help him cope with this difficult time. The doctor said no. "You're having situational anxiety because you're under tremendous stress. That's normal." Rob was so disappointed. "I ask for help and he said no! Everyone else is on meds for everyday life! I just didn't want to feel so much for a little while."




I was finally upright enough to talk with the girls on the phone. It was marvelous to hear their voices. When my family came to visit I could now sit up and talk and get all the news from home about who brought food and who called. My friend Julie came to see me and brought me cards and gifts from friends that went right on my altar. She also brought a poem that was perfect and made me want to see the moon and breath some fresh air.

Towards the Light

By moonlight,
or starlight,
or in the sun’s bright rays,
I journey,
guiding my way
by keeping
to the light
as best I can.
Sometimes all seems dark,
then I remember
how the poppy turns its head,
following the sun’s passage across the sky,
then rests in night’s cool shadows,
bowing in thanks
to whatever power
makes the stalk
stand straight and strong,
drawing deep from its roots
a wine dark love.
In moonlight,
the garden glows,
silvering the poppies.
And even by starlight
you can tell
shades of darkness
if you try.
So do not lose heart
when vision dims.
Journey forth
as best you can—
bloom when you are able,
rest when you must,
keep your faith,
keep always
towards the light.
(couldn't find the author)


I was getting tired of the hospital environment. I took a shower across the hall with help from Rob. When I shuffled out into the hall I saw how big the floor was and how many call bells were ringing. So many sick people. Such busy nurses. My roomate had been in the hospital for over a month. I couldn't imagine. Outside my window was a tall brick building filled with sick people. It made me sad. Also, I was tiring of the roommate situation. Her doctor had taken her off fluid restrictions and she was out of control. She was asking for coke very 15 minutes and then she was up all night. Her children got after her during their loud raucous morning-long visits, "Ma! Take it easy with the soda! That's not good for you and no wonder you're not sleeping. How about I get you some water?" But she was stubborn. "Go get me a Coke, damnit!" Also I wasn't getting much sleep. She had the TV on home shopping all night and the nurses would come to clean her up a couple of times in the middle of the night. I would wake to lights, talking and very strong unpleasant smells. I would fumble to put a tissue with peppermint essential oil up my nose before I started to gag.

It was time to go home.

BMC ICU

My mother drove down to Springfield at 4am to meet the ambulance. As she drove down the empty highway she saw a large dark bird flying beside her car for a while, then after a while it veered off into the woods. An owl? She was horrified. "Is that Kat's spirit? Is she leaving?"

Meanwhile the EMTs and nurse bumped and rolled me down the halls in the stretcher up to the ICU. I had never been there, even working at Baystate OB for 4 years after graduating from nursing school I never made it over there. I was brought into my own room with a big sliding door and a curtain a young nurse who was very gentle and kind with me. I got warm blankets, ahhhhh. My mother got lost at all the different ambulance entrances, but finally found me in the brightly lit unit.
On entering the room we were greeted by four different doctors in full gown and mask, each asking specific questions. I might have been getting a bit more with the program. Just before we got into the ambulance to leave Franklin I had remembered my children were ages 5 and 8. I still couldn't remember their names, but it was an improvement. At Franklin they had started me on IV antibiotics, antifungals and antivirals along with lots of IV fluid. Now at Baystate they continued all that therapy. When I first got there, a doctor spent alot of time listening to my heart. I fell asleep and woke up and he was still listening. I got hooked up to more monitors and had more blood drawn.

They did a electrocardiogram in my room of my heart that took forever and made me very nervous, my heart sounded so swishy. (They still didn't know what germ was causing the infection and some germs, once they get in the blood, attack the heart.) They were waiting for blood cultures to come back, and clearer spinal tap results They asked so many questions. We (my mom) told them Strep was in our kid's school, that we had a new puppy, and we had a pet rat and some chickens. They took it all in like detectives.
They asked over and over what other medications I was on. I didn't think I was on any, but they didn't seem to believe me. My mother told them, "Just vitamins." Then I heard my nurse say, "She's only 40. She's healthy. She's not on any meds!" and they stopped asking. I was not their usual customer.

My sister was there by now and she was very focused on me. She is seven years older than me and very protective and loving. She looked very regal at the foot of my bed, she kept her hand on my leg repeating, "We love you so much, Kat. I am sending you healing energy." She gave me ice chips and a cool cloth on my forehead. She also hung my parent's Christmas card on my wall and made me a little altar on my bedside table with some battery lit candles I'd given her when she was in the hospital. She brought recent photos of the girls with the puppy. It was wonderful to see when I opened my eyes.

When my sister asked my nurse about my fever and my delirium the nurse's response was serious. "There is a war going on in you sister's her body right now. We just have to support her so that she can win, but there is a war going on. Her body is working very hard."

While I was in the ICU Rob, my mom and my sister took turns sitting with me. My sister and Mom got a bed and breakfast across the street and took turns on night duty. I would wake up and someone would be there. I felt so lucky and watched over.

The nurses were smart, supportive and kind, The doctors were polite and thorough. During the whole experience I felt extremely well cared for. Amazingly, there were no rouge bitches or jerks, everyone was amazing.




Mysteriously, I wasn't really scared.
Maybe it was the delirium?
Maybe I knew I was going to be OK?


The blood pressure cuff went off every 15 minutes, but I slept.

Rob said, that next morning, "I couldn't get out of the house. Everyone was calling."
"What do you mean everyone? How would they know?" I asked. I felt like we were all alone on the moon, so far away from everything.
"I told them at your work, like you asked me to, so Patti called people and Nooni sent an email to everybody, so now they're calling me." He was overwhelmed with everything; the phone calls, the kids, and fear of widowhood, but I was deeply excited that some people knew I was there. It made me feel much less alone in this weird place where I was laying in bed all day, getting really puffy all over, while my ear drained yellow ooze onto my pillow.

My mother said someone had brought a spinach lasagna to our house. She and the girls had eaten it! And it was delicious! I was so moved that someone was caring for my family when I couldn't. "Already? A lasagna! I just got here."

My sister also emailed her friends and old family friends so all those people also were praying for me and thinking of me and my family. I felt like George Baily in "It's a Wonderful Life," There's that opening scene above the house where all the frightened and loving prayers go up and up to the twinkling black and white galaxies. There the angels gather and hear everyone praying for him on his rough dark night.

I felt like I was being held by all the love and concern, which relieved me greatly because I couldn't seem to do it for myself. I couldn't focus on anything long enough to get through it. I couldn't meditate, pray, tap or send Reiki. I was out of it and mostly sleeping, drooling open-mouthed sleeping.

The nurse and aide washed me up head to toe with warm soapy water, changed my bedding under me, rolling me back and forth and then boosted me up in bed several times a day. I have given that kind of basic care to so many, mostly elderly, patients, it was surreal to be the one in bed with the sweet women chatting over you. They were glad to have me as a patient because I could actually talk with them and they don't usually get that in the ICU.

At one point later in the day my nurse came in and announced cheerfully, "We can all take off our protective gear! She doesn't have viral meningitis!" Hooray! Everyone took off their gowns and masks happily. They could breathe and stop wearing the hot plastic gowns.


The blood culture had come back positive for what could be Strep A so they picked the antibiotic that would kill both the possible bacterial meningitis and the Strep A. I am allergic to many antibiotics (Penicillins, Sulfa drugs, and Biaxin) which can be a problem. They chose a new one for me, Ceftriaxone, which I got every 12 hours. I didn't know any of this, but everyone seemed a bit lighter and things certainly looked much better with everyone out of their protective aprons and masks. We asked the results of the echo-cardiogram (when we asked the tech performing it if it looked OK, she said, "I can't tell you anything. The doctor will read it soon") So we asked the nurse, who hunted down the results and popped her head in to say, "Heart looks good, Katherine." Good words to hear.

I lay on my left side so my ear could drain a straw colored fluid onto my pillow. Nasty. Lots of pillow case changes. I was really puffy from all the fluid and the left side of my face was bigger because I was laying on it all the time. The Franklin nurse had thought to had thought to take off my rings before I got in the ambulance. My hands had been getting tight and big from all the IV fluids and the nurse didn't want them to be cut off later. It had felt creepy pulling them off and handing them to Rob. I never take them off. My angel necklace was taken off first thing in the ER when they first put the monitors on me.

Coming down the highway to see me that next morning, Rob got a call from Georgia's school that Georgia had a rash. My mother had to go pick her up at school and take both her and Lily to the doctor. Georgia had scarlet fever (a form of Strep A with rash). Both the girls were started on antibiotics. We had been getting newsletters and even an automated phone call from Lily's school saying that strep was in every grade and to monitor your children carefully. But I didn't have a sore throat or patches or swollen glands, neither did Georgia. She just had a cough and now a rash. I never would have thought to get either of us cultured until the rash hit.

My blood pressure started to improve, maybe the medicines and the fluids were finally catching up with the illness. At some point I stabilized enough to be transferred to another regular floor. I didn't have a fever. My heart was OK. The antibiotics were working. I was very nauseous and vomiting and they were giving me meds for that, but nothing seemed to really help. I hadn't eaten for three days so I would dry heave a couple times an hour when I wasn't sleeping. They thought it could be either the antibiotics, the sepsis (the actual blood infection makes people feel terrible for a while), or the ear infection/rupture (may have messed with my inner ear, which can take a long time to resolve) Great. So even though I was happy to be doing better, I felt worse. My family looked exhausted but relieved. We were firmly told the children were not allowed to visit. No one under 12, for their own safety.
I had no sense of how much time had passed, what season it was, really what my life was like. I loved my mother's detailed updates about who stopped by and left bread or a casserole. It helped me remember and imagine normal life.

I didn't want to leave the ICU. I loved the nurses, having a private room and the attention of a sea of skilled doctors. We had settled in. But my nurse said, "You don't want to need us. It's good news, Katherine. It's a good thing." They found me a room on Springfield 2 and we packed up my stuff and I rolled down unfamiliar corridors once more.

FMC ICU

I spent the day in the ER and then they admitted me to the hospital in the evening. They rolled me into the ICU. I knew enough to know that was serious place and thought, "Maybe the other floors were full?"

The nurses settled me in to an actual bed. I recognized these ladies. I had floated down and helped them on busy nights as a nurse when it was quiet upstairs where I work. They treated me with great kindness. I had lots of monitors, cuffs and IVS but I got cleaned up. I had my period and had pajamas from the night before and she put all new clothes, underwear and pads. I was so thankful to have a soft bed, new blankets and a very tender nurse who watched me closely. There was alot of beeping, but mostly I slept.

Earlier when I had been brought into the ER, I apparently told Rob that he had to go upstairs and tell them I couldn't come to work the next evening. He was appalled! I could not remember his name! or my children's ages! or that I had children!! but I remembered to make sure not to inconvenience work. But he went up and told my dear co-workers that I had a high fever and was getting a cat scan for a confusion. Later my sweet friend asked if she could come down and give me Reiki and they said, "No visitors. She's too sick."

My mother came in when Rob got home to get the girls to bed. I must have been high in my bed because she looked small and cold with her winter's hat on.
"Hi Mom" I said.
They asked me quickly, "What's your mom's name" and I replied "Mom."

It seemed worrisome that she was there in the night.

She told me later that when she got there, they told her I was speaking less and she thought, "Oh my God is she is a coma?" but I greeted her with the "Hi Mom." She noticed my blood pressure was low ("the bottom one in the 40's") and they were giving lots of IV fluid and the blood pressure wasn't coming up. I was on antibiotics and still had a fever. My lumbar puncture had come back preliminarily positive. My mother also noted that on my chart it said "Patient condition: Poor" I've never seen that. She's never seen that and she was scared. (I was completely out to lunch dozing and hating the Foley catheter to drain my urine that felt burning and uncomfortable.)

The hospitalist came in. I saw her nice worried face and she was talking to me, but I had no idea what she was talking about. They were calling anesthesia for a central line, a sort of IV access in the chest to give me more fluid. That anesthesiologist was driving in from home. My mother says the hospitalist said to her then , it was about 3am, "We're treating an infection but it's not working and we don't know what else might be going on. We're going to do a central line, but if it was my daughter I'd send her to Baystate (the big teaching hospital 30 minutes away) My mother said, "OK let's go, then." She was so anxious and was scared to move me, but didn't want to wait to long. My poor mother. She called Rob to make sure she wasn't being a renegade and he said yes, crying in bed.

They made my mother a nest down the hall and let her nap while they waited for the ambulance. It came and they got me moved with all my wires and monitors onto the stretcher and out into the cold world. My nice nurse was coming with me. The sirens were on and down south we went. Even then I didn't really feel fear or the gravity of where I was. I was thankful for my family, for my mother and her night duty (Rob is incapable of staying up after midnight) thankful to all the concerned skilled care. I still felt so much better than when I had when my ear was in such horrific pain. I slept most of the 20 min ride there. I don't remember the sirens.

ER

By the time I was at the ER my temp was 105. I did not know my name, Rob's name or if I had children. They kept asking me over and over. It became annoying. Like they were asking me questions they knew I didn't know the answer to. They asked my birthday and I remember thinking it was so strange that they said 1970. That was so long ago! I didn't know the nurses or doctors that came and went.

Everyone wore gowns, masks and hats.They did alot of handwashing. I recognized my husband and child, was glad to see them, but could not identify them. I thought Rob looked so handsome in his blue plastic gear. I was sleepy and cold and no one would give me more blankets, which I didn't understand (they didn't want my fever going higher.) I slept and then people asked me questions, took vital signs, looked me over. I actually don't remember much but I remember wondering when I would go home.

Rob said once when they asked me his name I shrugged but then leaned forward earnestly and asked, "Did my book ever get published?" He said there was alot that would have been funny if he wasn't so scared I was dying or going to be forever mentally deranged.

Two nice women came and put my head in a cat scan machine and I didn't know why (They thought I had a brain tumor causing the sudden confusion)
A nice doc came and did a lumbar puncture a couple times to see if I had meningitis.
I'm sure they did lots of other things. Lots of blood drawn and antibiotics running.
I don't remember.
Rob was stoic and calm. He and Georgia watched Tom and Jerry in the waiting room. Came and went.

Here's Georgia geared up


He called my mother two hours away.
"Kat's in the hospital. She has a high fever and she's incoherent. Can you come out and take care of the girls?"

She came and took Georgia home and met Lily at the bus.
Rob came and sat with me.

Well then.

What a very strange two weeks I have just had.
I will tell my story as best I can, both for you and for me. I'm still trying to figure out what happened, why and when.

Somehow I ended up very very sick on Wednesday 3/2 at the local ICU getting transferred with sirens blaring to Baystate ICU at 4am last Wednesday night. My chart said "Condition: Poor." I did not know my name. They did not know why I was so sick.

Several days before, I had a cold and chose to work overnight anyway. I felt achy and gross, a bit of a sore throat, but not bad, just a cold. I drank lots of fluids and slept well when I was home during the day. Sunday I felt nauseous and under the weather but not so bad we didn't drive to Keene and buy a puppy training book, all stopping to eat burgers and fries at 5 guys burgers. I was fine, really and glad I'd get to sleep in on Monday.

Monday I slept most of the day and got to bed early. I thought I had fought it off.

The next morning I woke up with an ear ache in my left ear. It hurt! I woke Rob up crying in the morning and told him I was going to butt in front of him in the shower, hoping the steam would relieve the pressure. It didn't. I got the girls to school and went to see my doctor.

When she looked in my ear she said, "Oh you poor thing!" because it is was so inflamed and irritated. She recommended fluids, sleeping upright, heating pads to the ear and ibuprofen.
It hurt so much I couldn't imagine not getting something stronger.
I asked for codeine cough syrup. (As someone in the medical field I am loathe to ask for narcotics because you don't want anyone to think you've got some drug addiction, but I asked anyway.) I was hoping it would knock me out and let me sleep. She told me to call if the eardrum ruptured, they'd want to look at it after and make sure it was healing.

I went to CVS to drop off the script and the pain got worse while I waited. The line was long, people smelled like smoke and they asked 10 questions of the tech then rummaged forever for their card. I was losing it. Once my script was dropped off, I was hungry so I drove to Mesa Verde to get a nice lunch but there was no where to park and I started to fear that I would start crying in public and wouldn't be able to stop, so I drove through Wendy's. Disgusting. I ate french fries, a fried chicken sandwich and a chocolate frosty. I wouldn't' usually eat that, especially if I was feeling sick, but was feeling felt stuck and worried.

After eating my weird meal and whimpering in the car I went to stand in the always enormous line of CVS drug pick -up and waited and waited. I started to squirm, wasn't able to sit still, squirm, twist, sigh. It was agony. The ear was throbbing, sour, aching sharp pain all at once.

Finally I got my script and got to my car using my frosty spoon and getting everything ready to give myself a dose of the codeine when I got halfway home. I figured I'd get zonked out and wanted it to kick in just as I was done driving.

I cried in the car.
Cried really loud with lots of tears.
(Looking back this seems like an obvious warning sign that something was not normal, but at the time I thought, "It's an ear infection. I guess they really hurt. No wonder my kids fuss and scream when they've had them.")

I downed the pink codeine half way home. When I pulled in I let Cookie out as fast as I could and then lay down, but it hurt to lay down! Hurt! I was horrified. It hurt to sit up! It hurt to do anything. The hot-pack didn't help at all. I whined and paced and poor Cookie stayed quiet back in her crate watching me roam back and forth. I kept waiting for the syrup to kick in and it never did. The family got home, did homework, ate dinner. I was kind of out of it in the other room, pacing around. I took one of Rob's last vicodin from his back injury a year ago and that didn't help either.

Just before 5, I called the doctor back and told the receptionist,
"This is too much. I need something. I'm doing my labor breathing. I can't sit still. Can somebody just poke a needle in my ear and release the pressure?" She was startled, "I've never heard of that." long pause.
"I need to talk to the nurse. I need to do something."

She put the nurse. I cried. "I am tough. I'm really tough and I can't do this all night. It is killing me. It feels like my head is going to explode!"

She said sympathetically, "It sounds like you're in alot of pain, let's see. I'll talk to the doctor and get back to you."


I paced and waited. I waited. I finally was able to sit down in the lazy boy upright and doze for a moment. The family went to bed. I was downstairs. I waited. No one called back, but the pain was slightly less and there was ooze coming out of my ear. I didn't have to pace anymore. Then I started to puke every hour. I could sleep between puking. I had to sit on the toilet to vomit because I had diarrhea, so after 15 or so minutes of retching I'd head back to sleep sitting up in the chair.

While I waited I looked on-line and in my alternative healing books for any remedy that might help.
I tried warm olive oil with pressed garlic dripped into the ear "instantly soothing!" Not for me.
I tried putting Sodolite, a blue stone against the ear to pull out the inflammation. Nope.
I tried two homeopathic remedies, Chamomila and Pulsatilla which didn't seem to do much.
Olive oil and apple cider vinegar warmed and dripped in ear. "My daughter's pain instantly went away!" Not mine.
I tried acupressure and massage around the ear "creates drainage and instant relief." Uh Uh.
I tried to do my tapping on the pain but the pain and nausea were so powerful I couldn't focus on anything.
I walked around saying "Help me help me help me."

I could have called an ambulance, woke up Rob, called a friend but I just thought I was having ear pain. I thought it would pass. Everyone seemed to think it was fine. No one was worried enough to call me from the doctor. I was also confused, felt stuck in a cycle of pain and puke.


The night was long. I was getting a bit confused because I put some logs in the wood stove and shut the door, touching the burning glass and frying the skin on my wrist ending up with a band-aid sized burn on my inner wrist, which started to throb. I remember being puzzled that the door would be hot.

It was morning and Rob was handing me the phone. The doctor's office was calling back at 8am and Rob was heading out to work. I told whoever was on the phone my eardrum had ruptured and she fit me in at 9:30am. I hung up and told Rob he was taking me.

He was dressed for work and exasperated. "I don't have any time left, Kat. I can't"
I sat up and said, "You have to take me."
I was very calm and distanced. I knew he had to take me.
"Kat, I have no time. Can you bring yourself?" He had no idea what was going on.
"Nope. You're taking me."
"Where is it? Which doctor?"

I had been there the day before. I knew where it was, but I could not tell him. He looked at me, getting exasperated. "Where is it Kat?"

"Take a right at the bank."

He and Lily looked at each other. Puzzled.

He asked me again, probably more gentle this time. "Where are we going?"

"Through the window." was another reply.

I got dressed and he took me to the doctor.

I saw a lovely woman I knew from work who started talking to me, not only could I not hear her (my left ear was so very plugged) but I also just could not answer her. Could not find the words, the connections the noises that would just let her go on with her day. I just said random things or maybe smiled silently. Then I brought Rob over to a more private area and we waited.

When they called me it was the same tech I had yesterday who did not seem to get the gravity of my pain. She stared at me. Yesterday I had told her, "My ear hurts so much, I cry when I burp." I suppose that was a weird thing to hear. This morning she had me lay down on the short paper-covered table and I slept while Rob and the doctor talked, all the while Rob must have entertained Georgia. The doctor asked me questions. I remember her face near mine. Rob took me out of there to the hospital. My doctor had said I could get a Tylenol suppository to get my fever down. I could get that at the ER. She would call ahead. I was confused when he brought me into the waiting room. What could they do for me there?