To pick up where I left off in part one…
At the doctor’s appointment on
Wednesday Nov. 13, we discussed with the doctor our suspicions about me having
Lyme’s disease. She agreed to give me the test along with a bunch of other
blood tests. Such as my vitamin D levels, a thyroid check, things like that.
The next day, she called saying that she had gotten one of the test results
back. Mom and I were on our way into town so we couldn’t call her back.
Whenever I get test results I’m always nervous. No matter what kind of test it was, it makes me nervous. When we got to a friend’s house mom called the doctor. A few minutes later she announced that my vitamin D level was critically low. It was a level nine. I was immediately put on 50,000 IUs of vitamin D per week. I’ve been on that for about five weeks now.
Whenever I get test results I’m always nervous. No matter what kind of test it was, it makes me nervous. When we got to a friend’s house mom called the doctor. A few minutes later she announced that my vitamin D level was critically low. It was a level nine. I was immediately put on 50,000 IUs of vitamin D per week. I’ve been on that for about five weeks now.
The next week all of my test
results came back negative. No Lyme, which I am grateful, deeply grateful for,
and my Thyroid was fine. They did find that at one point I had had Mono. I find
that funny and horrible at the same time. I never knew I had it. Hopefully I
didn’t give it to anyone else.
So…back to square one. By this time I was getting progressively worse. Even more worse than before. I had passed out on the tenth of November after performing dinner music with my sisters. Thankfully I was home when it happened.
My episodes seemed to be getting closer together. More frequent. And we had no clue what was going on. Talk about scary! The week of the Long Sister’s Student’s Recital I taught piano lessons while relaxed on a couch. I teach at my student’s home so that was awesome how the Lord provided a way for me to comfortably teach. But I was only allowed to sit. I could walk, but only when necessary. The only thing that the girls would let me carry was my bag. I admit I got irritated with this over protection. It was needed, but I felt…restricted.
So…back to square one. By this time I was getting progressively worse. Even more worse than before. I had passed out on the tenth of November after performing dinner music with my sisters. Thankfully I was home when it happened.
My episodes seemed to be getting closer together. More frequent. And we had no clue what was going on. Talk about scary! The week of the Long Sister’s Student’s Recital I taught piano lessons while relaxed on a couch. I teach at my student’s home so that was awesome how the Lord provided a way for me to comfortably teach. But I was only allowed to sit. I could walk, but only when necessary. The only thing that the girls would let me carry was my bag. I admit I got irritated with this over protection. It was needed, but I felt…restricted.
At
each of my student’s lessons I told them that this might be the last lesson for
a while. We might have to stop after the recital and pick up in January. I felt
like breaking down. OK, I did on Sunday night when my mom told me that I needed
to tell my students that. I’ve come to love all of my students. They are like,
I don’t know, best friends. The more you invest in someone’s life the more you
grow to love them.
Friday rolled around, and I actually felt really good. I had taken my second vitamin D pill the day before and I felt almost somewhat normal. I taught four of my students in the morning, then came home and readied myself for the night.
While trying to seat my students I kept getting their names mixed up on the paper. Whenever I get close to passing out my vision feels funny. I had already begun to feel nauseous, yet another symptom of passing out. Flustered, I handed the paper to my older sister, Emily, and explained to her what was going on. The recital began, and so did my shaking. I continued to shake throughout the whole thing. Nobody except Emily knew because I did my best to hide it. Emily sat beside me, with her arm around me just in case I did pass out. She didn’t want me falling on the floor. Halfway through she whispered to me and said, “You are not getting up to give your speech.” I nodded and told her it was best if I didn’t get up. I didn’t have notes so I gave her a brief run down on what I had planned to say.
After the recital, and during the reception I continued to stay seated. I knew that if I got up I would more than likely pass out. One of my student’s came up to me and asked if we were still on for lessons the next week. Ever the stubborn one, I pluckily replied, “Of course we are! I plan on being there Tuesday!”
A little bit afterward I went to the restroom with the aid of Emily. When I returned to my seat, I laid my head on her shoulder, and went limp. I didn’t completely pass out, but I had no strength left whatsoever. I kept my eyes closed throughout this time. It’s too much of an effort to lift them, that and talking. I heard them get a wheelchair, and then my older brother Josh, and possibly someone else put me in it. During the process I kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Movement seriously aggravates it. Don’t ask me why. It’s the weirdest feeling though. At the time I wasn’t sure what they were trying to get on the wheelchair. Turns out it was a leg rest or something. Mrs. Beck, the lady who had helped us organize our recital, and one of the mothers of four of my students, ended up wheeling me out. She used to be a nurse, so that was a great asset. I remember hearing her take my pulse saying it was at 120. I left the recital in quite the melodramatic way. Not the way I would have preferred in a million years, but did I really have a choice? I was put in the front seat of my dad’s car by dad and Josh. I’m not quite sure what they were doing, but Josh was in the car talking to me. That really helped me calm down.
Friday rolled around, and I actually felt really good. I had taken my second vitamin D pill the day before and I felt almost somewhat normal. I taught four of my students in the morning, then came home and readied myself for the night.
While trying to seat my students I kept getting their names mixed up on the paper. Whenever I get close to passing out my vision feels funny. I had already begun to feel nauseous, yet another symptom of passing out. Flustered, I handed the paper to my older sister, Emily, and explained to her what was going on. The recital began, and so did my shaking. I continued to shake throughout the whole thing. Nobody except Emily knew because I did my best to hide it. Emily sat beside me, with her arm around me just in case I did pass out. She didn’t want me falling on the floor. Halfway through she whispered to me and said, “You are not getting up to give your speech.” I nodded and told her it was best if I didn’t get up. I didn’t have notes so I gave her a brief run down on what I had planned to say.
After the recital, and during the reception I continued to stay seated. I knew that if I got up I would more than likely pass out. One of my student’s came up to me and asked if we were still on for lessons the next week. Ever the stubborn one, I pluckily replied, “Of course we are! I plan on being there Tuesday!”
A little bit afterward I went to the restroom with the aid of Emily. When I returned to my seat, I laid my head on her shoulder, and went limp. I didn’t completely pass out, but I had no strength left whatsoever. I kept my eyes closed throughout this time. It’s too much of an effort to lift them, that and talking. I heard them get a wheelchair, and then my older brother Josh, and possibly someone else put me in it. During the process I kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Movement seriously aggravates it. Don’t ask me why. It’s the weirdest feeling though. At the time I wasn’t sure what they were trying to get on the wheelchair. Turns out it was a leg rest or something. Mrs. Beck, the lady who had helped us organize our recital, and one of the mothers of four of my students, ended up wheeling me out. She used to be a nurse, so that was a great asset. I remember hearing her take my pulse saying it was at 120. I left the recital in quite the melodramatic way. Not the way I would have preferred in a million years, but did I really have a choice? I was put in the front seat of my dad’s car by dad and Josh. I’m not quite sure what they were doing, but Josh was in the car talking to me. That really helped me calm down.
A lot. I
won’t go into all of the details of what happened in the ER. It would bore you,
but they did not find anything new. They told us that it was pointless to keep
bringing me back in there because they would do the same thing over and over:
Suck my blood, do an EKG, and hook me up to a heart monitor.
That was one of my worst episodes ever. On the car ride home mom informed me that I was going to cancel life for a week, and do nothing but lay on the couch. And she meant that to the ‘T’.
Where My Life Is Part 1
Where My Life Is Part 3
That was one of my worst episodes ever. On the car ride home mom informed me that I was going to cancel life for a week, and do nothing but lay on the couch. And she meant that to the ‘T’.
Where My Life Is Part 1
Where My Life Is Part 3
I'm glad you don't have Lyme's disease, but it's quite scary not knowing what you do have! I'm still praying for you. What's 'Mono'?
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