Sunday through Friday - Switzerland/USA

Hi everybody, it's been a trip, what can I say?! I am tired, feel beat up a bit, and also am so grateful for how the Lord covered me, because as they say in Minnesota: "It could 'ave been worse." Here is the latest news: I am out of the hospital since Thursday noon or so, I give myself shots with blood thinner in my belly twice a day, I am allowed to use my leg as much as it allows me, I elevate the leg, I rest it as much as possible but one has to go to the bathroom, I don't use razors any more, I try to not cut or bruise myself, and sometimes there are times that I believe that this pain will never go away. There are other times where I do believe that this will also pass. It occured to me in the hospital, while waiting for the vascular ultrasound and sharing an ER room with 2 other people, that if our very basic bodily functions do not properly do their job, very often everything else is of no importance any longer. I will leave it at that for now. I admire doctors and nurses. I admire them very, very much.

So my last post was on Saturday when I was still in Zurich with Silvia and James having a good and quiet time. The three of us went out to dinner in Rapperwil on Sunday evening to a nice Italian restaurant where we sat out on the patio with a view of the Lake of Zurich, and we also walked around a little bit in the beautiful and picturesque old city. At that time I felt a little bit of pain in my right calf but did not think much of it because I thought it was just the same injury as I had in Poland acting up again (I had felt the same thing after I had gotten off the train in Zurich on Friday evening). On Monday morning while walking inside the Zurich airport checking in and getting through security and multiple passport check points, the pain was back and worse than it was before. After the first leg of my trip (nine and a half hours in the plane, right next to a young man, barely aged to be drinking and who took full advantage of the privilege during the flight), I got off the plane in Atlanta in very much pain. Then I walked to and through Immigration, collected my suitcase and went through customs. After all was said and done, my right leg was swollen, sore and tender, and I was crying and in such pain I did not know what to do with myself. And I still was not in Philadelphia (a little over two hours to go). When I got off the plane in Philly, a young airline employee was offering his services with a wheel chair to me. After he said that the baggage claim area was 3 miles away from where the plane was, I gladly accepted his services and he tried every which way to cheer me up; very sweet! Katee and her 2-year old son Joshua met us at the baggage claim while Bradley was driving around in circles in front of the building. I was so very grateful to see familiar faces! Of course I told them about my leg (they already knew about the kidney thing) and in the evening, I elevated my right leg and it felt a tadbit better.

The next morning was pretty much the same, and considering how it had hurt the day before and how unusual the pain felt to me, I figured it would probably be smart to have it checked out. So Katee brought me to the ER at Montgomery Hospital in Norristown, PA, just about a 20-minute drive away from their home in Eagleville. When the ER's first line of defense mentioned the reality of blood clots after listening to what I had been doing in the last 7 weeks, I was shocked. Blood clots? You've got to be kidding me! I can't have blood clots! But ok, we should make sure, I agreed. Next thing I know, I am on a bed in the ER (I called it the bunker) in a room with 2 or 3 other patients who are wheezing and moaning and groaning. My nurse comes and talks to me about my situation: Great, a world traveler; we haven't had many of those lately... the doctor will probably want to make sure that there are no blood clots in that leg... I go: really, do you think that I have a blood clot? I can't believe that... so I mull that over for a while. I can't call anybody because my cell phone does not work in the bunker. The doctor comes and talks to me. Nice young man, good bed side manners. Let's just make sure there are no blood clots in your right leg: a vascular ultrasound of my right leg is coming up. While I am waiting, people next to me are getting ready to leave while an 85-year old man is brought in by ambulance people. He has a lot of pain in his abdomen and after a little bit of Q & A, the doctor decides the man suffers from a bowel obstruction and that can be fixed easily. The people next to me have really left now (bronchitis and urinary tract infection), and in comes a lady who is probably 10 years older than I. She has had diahrea for the last 2 weeks (sorry). When the doctor asked her what she ate and drank during the last 2 weeks, she said: Beer. Honestly.

Anyhow, the wheelchair shows up with a volunteer to bring me over to Radiology to get me to the ultrasound. I tell my story again to the technician, who nods and says: yes it's probably good to check for blood clots. He goes down my right upper leg and all is clear. He goes down the back of my knee and says: I've got something. Yes.

At that moment, I felt very small and frightenend. I told him so and he looked at me with kind eyes. He continued his search down my calf and found a few more clots in the two veins that go down the leg towards my foot. Then we were done, he gave me a preliminary report and I sat back down in the wheel chair and my kind driver came back to take me back to the bunker. Back there, I cried and prayed and did not know what else to do. Then the doctor came and confirmed that the technician found blood clots and he talked to me about the blood thinning treatment, which is mostly preventative to make sure no more blood clots are forming or the existing ones expanding. The blood clots will at some point in time dissolve (nobody committed to giving me any time frame). I have to stay in the hospital for 1 or 2 nights because blood thinning medication need to be watched closely. A male nurse came to draw blood and put an IV line in my arm (just in case). His name was Bob and he thought it was his job to cheerfully poke people and he tried the little bit of German on me that he knew. He was funny, and also very kind to me when I could not hold back my tears. Than another nurse showed up and gave me the first injection with blood thinner in my belly. By this time, the 85-year old was fixed up and ready to go home. I have no idea what was happening to the beer lady (and I will never know). Shortly thereafter my wheelchair showed up again and off we went to room 231 where I had the bed by the door. Around 4 in the afternoon or so, I was situated (well you know, what does it really take when you did not bring anything). In the mean time I had been able to call Katee from the bunker on the telephone behind my bunkerbed which I did not know was there until the nurse kindly handed it to me, so at least she knew what was going on, and she would come and visit and bring some things I wanted to have with me. It was great to see her friendly face before dinner and she brought me some snacks and even dark chocolate! So great!

I am going to publish this post now, and will finish the story later. I also wanted to let you all know that I cancelled all my travel plans for next week, and that I will be coming home on Monday, May 31 (Memorial Day). I will be arriving in San Jose, CA at 7:40pm and Lorraine will pick me up. The doctor agreed that I could travel to go home only if I would learn how to do the injections and if I promised to make an appointment to see my doctor the next day after my arrival. I agreed to both for obvious reasons. Overall, I am doing better than Monday and Tuesday. Walking is very painful and giving myself shots is odd and a little freaky. I am glad to be with Katee and Bradley and will tell you more about them later also. Thank you for your support, love and prayers!