Chest pain and CT scans...

Disclaimer:  This is a long post that was written so I won't forget.  Don't feel like you have to read it. And, no, I didn't edit. Sorry.

"You need to go to the Emergency Room immediately."  I never thought those words would be said to me. I even questioned the nurse and had her go back and talk to the doctor. After three separate calls, she again reaffirmed that yes, indeed, I needed to go to the ER.

It all started with a twinge in my left forearm, more annoying than painful. The next morning I awoke with a pain on the right side of my chest. The discomfort was minimal and was not constant.  It felt like a pulled muscle. As the day went on and night approached the discomfort turned into pain.  I waited three days before calling my nurse.  It was then she delivered the doctor's orders to go the the ER.

Makay and I dropped Maddux off at a friend's house [thanks, LoraAnn] and headed to St. Lukes and checked in to the ER.  After an hour and half of fishing on Makay's Ipod, I asked how long the typical wait time was. The look I got in return was pure confusion. It turns out they removed my name from the list an hour and twenty minutes earlier because they thought I left. What a great start.

I finally got back to see the doctor.  Doctor Burmingham. He was pretty confident there was nothing to worry about, but given my genetic history of blood clots, he decided to do a blood and urine test.

Wait. Wait. Wait. Fish on Makay's Ipod. Wait. .. ..... ...

The results were not as promising as the doctor, or I for that matter, would have hoped. This is when the tears started coming. Up to this point I kind of felt I was just participating in some routine check-up [which, I know, I was in the ER so I shouldn't have felt that way, but I did].  The results came back indecisive.  There was no definite no to there being an existing blood clot.

I was then told a CT scan was what needed to happen next.  The tears really started falling now.  We can't afford a CT scan.

Crying. Crying. Crying....

I asked the doctor [through sobs] if Makay and I could have a minute to discuss whether or not we should proceed with the CT scan.  This is the moment I fell in love with my doctor.  He looked at me like my dad would and said, "Okay, it's time to put the doctor aside and play dad for a minute." He told me it was important for me to get the CT scan; if there was a clot it could be very dangerous.  The hospital has reserved funds for starving students like us and all would be well in the end. He told us he wouldn't charge us for seeing him. I am so thankful for his generosity. I pray in the future we will be able to pay it forward.

My mom, dad, sister, and Makay continued to ask me the same question, "What are you most worried about." The money.  The money!  That's what I said, but I lied.  Honestly, I have never feared financial difficulties.  The Lord has always blessed us with the necessities, and I know He always will.  The money was an easy place to pinpoint worries. Looking beyond the money meant looking at the IV's and the EKG test wires. It meant coming to the realization that I was about to be wheeled into some room to undergo a CT scan.

Enter Nicole. The transporter. She wheeled my bed to the elevator, desperately trying to make conversation.  I am so grateful for that.  The last thing I wanted to do was sit in silence and let my mind get the best of me. We finally arrive at our destination: the room of the CT scan.

She asked if I wanted to be lifted out of the bed only to lie back down on the adjoining bed or if I could stand on my own.  Please, let me stand on my own. I'm already in this sickly hospital gown.  Just let me stand by myself and cling onto some sort of normalcy. 


They did a test run first.  I was shaking so badly the nurse asked if I was cold.  I felt like I was coming off my epidural.  My nerves were getting the best of me.  Think of something happy, I thought. My Maddux was the first thing that came to my mind.  Bad idea.  My mind went racing with thoughts of my little guy growing up without me. Yes, very bad idea, indeed.  I resigned to thinking of the color black.  There are no memories attached to this color.  No emotions. It helped calm me down a little.

They injected me with the dye needed for the scan.  It burned going in. I took a deep breath and then exhaled a metallic taste which was followed by a severe hot flash.  I was informed these would all be side effects of the injection. It was over in a matter of minutes.

Wait. Wait. Wait for results.  Wait. Wait.  Avoid phone calls. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Finally.  Enter Doctor Burmingham.

No blood clots.  He was smiling; I was smiling... and crying. Makay was content.

I was diagnosed with Costochondritis.  It is an inflammation of the cartilage in the chest between the ribs and the sternum. From what I understand, it's a condition I will have forever.  It will come and go.  Each 'episode' can last up to six weeks.

It was a scary and expensive day [it looks like we spent our Christmas in the Er :) ], but I'm grateful for a peace of mind. I'm grateful for my strong husband.  I'm grateful for my little Maddux who can make me smile no matter what.

Don't sweat the small stuff because ya know what... it doesn't matter.