Wow it has been a while since my last post. Where does the time go. I am definitely feeling like a terrible blogger. I think it may be due to the fact that most daily activities take me longer to complete now that I have a lower functioning hand, and an adorable little baby to occupy my time. Here I go on part two on my life changing experience:
We got to the hospital and the Paramedics took me in the VIP Entrance (Very Injured Persons). Then I was hooked up to some stuff; more IVs (medicine too!), nasal cannula (for oxygen), and a baby monitor. The X-ray tech. took some pictures. Here is one picture:
Ryan and my dad arrived at the hospital right around when I had started feeling overwhelmed with my situation. They gave me a priesthood blessing and I instantly felt calm again. Several hospital employees kept coming in and out observing different things about my situation, and I remember listening to my dad tell all of them to "spare no expense to save my fingers".
I kept thinking, "Uh, that is not true. My dad won't be the one paying the bills. My sweet husband and I will be doing that. Oh boy! This is going to be so expensive. What have I done?!?"
(these next details are in no particular order)
I was given a nerve block (a massive shot) in each finger for pain. Two of my moms came to visit me in the St. George E.R. and fret about everything. The plastic surgeon came in to talk to me. After observing my situation, he said he would definitely be able to close up my pinky, repair my thumb, and possibly save my ring finger. He said he did not think he would be able to save my other two fingers, my best chance for that would be a life flight ride to Salt Lake County. After a couple hours of coordinating, waiting, and stressing, Ryan and I were flown to Salt Lake. I recently learned they were not going to life flight me, because I was so pregnant. One of the life flight nurses stepped in and said she was confident that I would be okay, and she would be willing to chance it for me. (Just one more miracle/blessing to add).
The hospital was going to fly me to the U of U hospital, but then they checked our insurance coverage. We had better coverage at Intermountain Medical Center, so that is where I went. It just so happened that the best plastic surgeon in the state (who also specializes in hands) started working there in August (yep, another blessing to factor into the miracle of my hand and having a healthy daughter).
I am so grateful it was a beautiful and sunny day. It made the life flight as pleasant, smooth, and fast as it could possibly be. I looked out the window a lot and tried to mentally prepare myself to wake up from the unknown future (I had never done anything like this before and had no idea what to expect) with my current stumps sewn up.
We arrived in Murray and I was taken to another triage /pre-operation room. Shortly thereafter my little brother, Jesse, tearfully greeted me and asked if it would be possible to do a finger transplant. He told me he would give me one or two of his fingers if they could perform the surgery. I was very touched but I laughed at the thought of ruining a perfectly beautiful hand because of my mistake/accident. I did not cry then, but I cry now whenever I think about what my sweet little brother was willing to sacrifice for me. The doctor chuckled too when my brother asked him. Once we established that a finger transplant was not an option, I reassured Jesse everything would be okay. Everyone, except Ryan and I cried a little more, then I was prepared for surgery.
Before I went into surgery, a member of the staff explained to me that I may have to have an emergency C-section. If they could prevent it, then they would. She reassured Ryan and me that they would definitely keep a close eye on our little girl. Then they transferred me to a new bed, wheeled me down the hall, into the operating room, and shortly thereafter I was out. . .
Wiser Self (pt. 2)
1 week ago