February 23, 2017 will be a date that will forever be engraved into my life and the lives of the people closest to me. It’s the night that I died…three times…and came back to life to tell my story.
It was a cold, February night. I had been under a tremendous amount of stress. My ten year old had suffered a major concussion at school a couple of weeks prior. That led to several doctor’s appointments, a CT scan, a trip to the children’s hospital when his symptoms got worse, communicating with his teacher to get homework that he could safely do while he was at home recuperating, and a group of unneccessary text messages between his father and me, arguing about his treatment plan and the plan for our son to return to sports. Living with Adrenal Insufficiency has taught me that when I’m under any emotional or physical stress, I need to take extra meds in order to cope like someone who has healthy, functioning adrenal glands. However, when my cortisol levels drop to a certain level, I can’t think clearly and I don’t realize when I need to take the extra life saving steroids. My husband recognized it, but it was too late.
There is a block of time that I absolutely don’t remember. That block of time started right after I told my husband “I don’t feel right…” I was standing in the kitchen and I had just read a text message that apparently dropped my cortisol levels to a dangerously low level. My husband took one look at me, and told me to come lay down and he would get me some meds. To be honest, the meds I truly needed was my Solucortef Emergency Injection. However, it was sitting at the hospital pharmacy….all because…one, I didn’t think I truly had “that” bad of a case of Addison’s…I saw other people posting in our groups and they were constantly in crisis and having to inject, but that just wasn’t me. Also, it was $52 to pick it up and we simply could not afford it at the time. Please read that again. I could not afford my life saving injection that literally could have and would have SAVED MY LIFE!!!!! I started to walk towards him, and I collapsed in the middle of our dining room, not breathing and unresponsive. My husband told my ten year old to call 911 and he immediately started CPR.
It took emergency responders 14 minutes to arrive to our house. They attempted to revive me with no avail. I was in cardiac arrest. They couldn’t locate a good IV spot, so they chose to perform an emergency procedure known as an IO (Intraoasseous Infusion) where they drill into a person’s shin bone and are able to get an IV started. The problem is, the EMT who performed the IO drill led too far into my shin, so all of the medication that they pumped into my system went straight into the tissue of my leg. Since I was not responding like I should with the medication, they kept giving me more and more, not realizing the harm it was causing. A brand new EMT looked at my leg and asked if my leg was supposed to look the way it did. I apparently had compartment syndrome and my leg had ballooned up. Things suddenly took a turn for the worse.
My husband was on his way to the hospital, when all of a sudden I went into cardiac arrest again and my “spirit” visited him in his car. According to him, I told him that I love him and I was saying goodbye. Being the strong-willed person that he is, he told me to get back into the ambulance and start breathing. Although our wedding vows did not include “thow shall obey,” I left his car and started breathing in the ambulance. When he arrived at the hospital, he was met at the door by the hospital chaplain, who urged him to call my parents, as the doctors did not expect me to live. My husband was notified that I would require emergency surgery and they needed him to sign a release for them to operate. Knowing what surgery would do to my body, he insisted that the medical team give me 100mg of Solucortef prior to the surgery. It then became a battle of who would give in first. The person trying to get him to sign the release told my husband that I would die if they couldn’t operate qickly, and he told them that I would die if I did not have the emergency steroids on board prior to the surgery. In the end, my husband won the battle and after I was given the Solucortef, I was rushed into surgery.
Continue reading Near death experience was a call to life- Jen’s story with adrenal insufficiency