Monthly Archives: September 2016

Infectious Bacteria Stalkers-My Summer Saga

Three

With a blocked off throat preventing me from drawing in air, it produced a sound like a flock of honking geese.  My eyes bulged and my arms flapped but only the tiniest bit of air came in.

Lasting several seconds but feeling like minutes, my throat relaxed and I sucked in a roomful of breath. I was stunned but other than my raw throat I felt fine, so I let the moment pass.

It was a warm afternoon, hubby came home from work, our daughter dropped by for a quick visit and I casually mentioned that if I happened to choke again I’d like to be taken to the Emergency Department of our local hospital.

Several hours later I coughed which tore at my raging sore throat and again, something closed off and would not let air in. I opened my mouth and tried to suck in but only produced the same honk.  Mysteriously as it began, it stopped and my breathing returned.

At the hospital, after the routine of discussion, waiting and telling the same story several times with a voice that only squeaked out sounds I was settled but sitting, into a bed.  I’d had my temperature taken but because I wasn’t ill, I had no fever. We waited.

While studying me, the attending nurse says, “Why are you talking like that,” as she stands nearby  and observes me with her notepad, writing who knows what.

“Pardon me,” I say as I look up at her. She repeats her question and I whisper-squeak while I push out the words, “Because I have no voice.”

Really.  Did she suspect that perhaps I’d pop into the emergency  ward with a wild story and fake laryngitis just to get some weird connection with nurses and doctors?  I’d told my story – I believed it was a reaction to a prescription nasal spray I’d been given two days previous.  Within the first two hours my throat became raw and as time passed, it dried out, pain increased, a dry cough appeared and things were not getting better.

Strange yes, as I looked perfectly fine.  I was scared and there for help, not disbelief.

It wasn’t long before I had the place hopping as the entertainment began with a cough, gasp, honk and then honk some more while I tried to breathe.  Staff stared at me, while calling for more staff to come and stare at me. Now I had their attention. This was real.

A doctor looked at me, a call went somewhere to find an ENT (ears/nose/throat) specialist, the staff chattered and  I heard a call go out to get Respiratory there and it seemed that curiosity levels rose all around.

When my throat relaxed and was again able to suck invisible life giving air into my lungs the curtained off area became quiet as the nurse stuck a needle in my left arm taping it off, “just in case,” they had to give something to open my airways.

On the next round of bug eyed, chest heaving attempts to breathe and many seconds later take large gasps in as the throat once again opened my nurse appears on the left. Medication is gently attached to the line leading to my taped up hand and freely flows into me.

From the right a mask is placed over my mouth, “a Nebulizer, to help you breathe” I was told and my blood pressure taken several times.

A respiratory person arrived and stood nearby on my left, chatting softly to me, yet I don’t recall what he said.

On the next round of cough, choke, no breath, the attending doctor hands my hubby his phone to video me so he can show the ENT exactly what I look like.  Hubby stands at the end of the bed helpless to do anything but do as he is told.

Nice.  Somewhere out there my face, gasping and gagging and flapping arms are likely going to be used as an emergency room teaching tool.

This time the lack of air is longer and little dancing tingles creep their way up my fingers to my shoulders and I feel my body begin to sag like a lumpy pillow.  My head begins to buzz  just as my throat releases the stranglehold and I flop back against the bed, while the darkness behind my eyes returns to light.

By now a couple of hours have passed, the staff have other patients to attend to and hubby’s job is to stand on guard at the door ready to alert them if I begin the routine again. Really, it is so loud I’m quite sure it would not be missed.

The ENT arrives, also stands in the doorway, looks at the phone video display of my performance, looks at me sitting there in my blue gown, with wires and mask and the machines hissing and popping.

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I immediately feel embarrassed as I listen to him chat with the staff about what this looks like and I hear the words – Laryngospasm and  vocal cord dysfunction which means the cords close.

Then he mentions it can be caused by stress or acid reflux.  These are all new terms to me while I process this information – really – I’m choking because I have some stress or acid. Maybe my imagination has made up the whole thing.

I’m sure more professional examination happened but this is my memory of what took place next.  The ENT sat down on the right side of the bed and asks me if I was stressed.

“Like what, husband- family-life?” I answer rather astonished at the question as  I then let him know this situation was certainly causing some anxiety.

It was mere moments before a nurse was at my left side ordering me to open my mouth and popped a tiny pill under my tongue to relax me or keep me calm or…zone me out.

ENT doc chatters at me as  he slips a slick little tube in my nose and slides it down into my throat. That did not feel especially good.  He tells me he is going to hit the vocal cords to make them close.  Honestly, if my brain had been functioning on full capacity instead of being oxygen deprived I’d have jumped and run.

He makes me talk while he bangs with his little weapon on the inner parts of my throat. Not only is he bashing at me he irritatingly sits too close to me, in my space one could say.

I wasn’t liking him  too much.

Then I feel the lid of breath shut off.  ENT doc sits calmly telling me to breathe and I just want him to go away.

Instead, he tells me to breathe through my nose, tells me I can do it.  I can’t and grunt this information to him.  I’m told if I can speak I can breathe.  Really!  I’d like him to try it.

A straw magically appears and he tells me to suck it – to find the airspace and draw it in.

I try.  Then toss the straw.  After that attempt fails we return to the nose conversation.

I notice people and activity to my left and I think a hole is about to be stabbed into my throat to help me.  I hear them talking but not what is said because my honking is so loud.

I can feel the tears of desperation, frustration and embarrassment run down my face.

My brain squeezes tight as  it tries to find a pathway to my nose to make it find air.

It is a battle of wills, the ENT doc’s determination for me to listen to his instruction and use my nose to breathe and my will to breathe any way I can.

My brain finally grasps the instruction and my nose does what my closed vocal cord could not do, air slid into my nostrils, seeped down the back of my throat and into my lungs.

My vocal cords opened and I learned a new life tool and it is one I’ll likely never forget.

I was so mad at him I was speechless.  I was so grateful to him I was speechless.

Time passed and that tiny pill settled its soft glow of relaxation and sleepiness over my body as I was wheeled off to ICU (intensive care unit) for a nights rest.

 

 

 

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Infectious Bacteria Stalkers-My Summer Saga

Two

Wednesday May 11th and it’s like an average day, filled with events.

I fit the walk in clinic visit into the early part of the afternoon after a morning meeting at the recreation centre where I volunteer as a Rep for the 55+ pickleball group for inside play.

After I filled my prescription I went home and administered the first round of nasal sprays.

Within a couple hours, I noticed my throat was a bit raw.  As the afternoon passed into dinner hour and evening, my throat rawness increased and felt rather dry.  In the night when sleep would have been preferable I developed a dry cough and woke often.

Thursday morning came and with the routine of eating, vitamins and get out the door to a fitness class I also remembered to take the nasal spray.

As hours passed my voice began to shift to a lower huskier sound and the irritation increased in my throat.

After my class I rushed home to shower and get over to a physio appointment for my ongoing back issues, then off to the local courts where people were playing pickleball.  As one of the committee members for the Surrey Pickleball Club for outdoor play, I wanted to watch some of the players before a late afternoon meeting.

At the meeting I assured everyone I was not sick but curious about the sudden voice loss, raw throat and dry cough –  beginning to think there might be a connection to the nasal spray but busyness and denial pushed away the little inside voice yakking at me.

Later that evening I dutifully used the sprays as I tried to believe it would eventually work to unplug my ear. Even though it rarely happened I continued to stick my finger in my ear, wiggle it around and try to pop it open. I so hoped to enjoy my upcoming trip to Whistler Mountain with hubby in a few days and soaking in the baths in the Scandinavian Spa – a gift from our kids.

Friday mornings rush arrived and the cough intensity increased, my voice became not more than a rough squeak and the inside of my throat felt like it’d been scrubbed with sandpaper.

Confused and concerned about whether I was interpreting  my symptoms correctly I decided to try one more time with the nasal sprays – then headed off for the morning to support and watch some newer players of pickleball.

As the morning progressed my conversations were cut short with constant coughing and pain rising to the level of screaming at me to pay attention.

The amber light of recognition finally hit and turned red.  Something was wrong.  I decided – no more sprays.

In the early afternoon I arrived at my scheduled Mammogram appointment, explained to the staff in a whisper I was not sick and now believed the nasal sprays were the cause of a negative reaction.

After my appointment I drove home, picked up the sprays and went to the pharmacy to chat about my concerns.  Next stop was the same walk in clinic where I was promptly seen by a different doctor than two days previous.

No infection.  No voice.  No visible or puzzling bulge which had originally been seen.

No pain free moment.

No answers other than to stop the sprays and go to see my regular doctor and ask to see a specialist.  I had come full circle in about forty-eight hours.  My left ear was still plugged. My doctor was still on vacation and why I’d been in a walk in clinic to begin with.

I returned home and planned to wait for the effects of the sprays to subside.

My throat burned like red embers of a campfire and with each cough it felt like a poker jabbing, jabbing and stabbing at the fire.

And then, one cough began. And another, on top of that one – another.

I felt my throat close and I could not breathe.

 

 

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Infectious Bacteria Stalkers-My Summer Saga

One

Most people remember the return to school after a long lazy summer playing with friends, hanging out, swims, hikes, camping with family or riding bikes and sleeping in.

Once back in school it was often a chore to regurgitate the “what I did this summer” essay believing it to be a boring chore.

Well, I’m no longer in school, long past it in fact, yet this summer a set of experiences I’ve had led me to believe it must be told.  However, I’m hopeful it’s a one of its kind, never to be repeated summer saga.

A lovely May of great weather promoted my early planting of flowers and vegetable garden, outdoor play of Pickleball, fitness class attendance and trying to return to my normal since a car accident one and a half years ago.  Though still in treatment for ongoing pain in my back I remained dedicated with my physical therapy and massage to improve muscle strength in order to support my spine.

Over the past months I had been irritated by an ongoing plugged ear – continually sticking my finger against it to try and shake it unplugged.  I tried a decongestant with limited results.  At a doctor visit last fall, I’d been informed I had water in behind the ear drum and to return if the problem continued.

As months passed by I continued to complain to anyone who listened.   I received many suggestions that it could simply be a wax buildup – really.  I’m in my 60’s, have a hubby, have raised children and I’ve seen wax buildup.  I would have just kept quiet and cleaned my ear.

Before an already booked visit to Whistler Mountain with hubby to lounge in pools and hot tubs I decided to get another ear check.   Discovering that my doctor was on holidays I chose to go to a walk in clinic.  I managed to get about a sentence into my reason for being there before I was rudely interrupted by the attending physician asking me questions which drew me into a defensive description validating my issue.  Apparently he was unable to check my ear unless I had reason to believe I may have an infection.

With a steady and steely voice I said,  “I will tell you if you let me finish my sentence.”

After a bit of sputtering from clinic doc, I was able to finish expressing my concerns and have my ears checked, then informed, “OH, such a bulge, I wonder why…such a bulge.”   I deduced I had a valid issue though I was unclear exactly what the bulge was.  Later, my internet research suggested it might have been the eardrum.

Suddenly clinic doc got busy on his laptop giving me a lesson on the construction of ears via pictures and I waited out the instruction.  I was handed a prescription for a nasal spray which would last a few weeks and told to also get an over the counter spray – that one to only use for five days.

Being a good patient and compliant personality that I am, I promptly went to the pharmacy on site and filled the prescription.

What a mistake.

 

 

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