What started out as a typical Wednesday morning in the Vogt house quickly turned to anything but; I had decided to work from home due to an appointment in the afternoon. While making breakfast Myah called for me from the living room, I found her lying on the floor with her feet propped up on the chair breathing deeply and feeling dizzy. She recalled that last time she felt this way was in March and the feeling then had passed quickly with little notoriety. So not wishing to miss her bus she pushed past the feeling and headed out the door. I asked her to text me because I wasn’t confident she was really ok. Within 10 minutes the first text came – she was definitely not feeling well, she was still quite dizzy and having a hard time focusing her eyes. We agreed it would be difficult to intercept the bus so I would meet her at school. Having rushed out of the house I was later glad I had opted to trade my yoga pants for jeans, however I neglected to brush my teeth and hair. The car ride from school to the clinic was a tricky one; motion caused her dizziness to increase and yet pulling over would only delay our need to see her Doctor - stat. We made a swift entrance to the clinic only to be slowed down by Front Desk Fran (no, that’s probably not her real name). “Yes, my address is still the same as it was 10 minutes ago when I alerted you we’d be coming in.” Yes, we still have the same insurance” (again from the recent verification via telephone). “Yes, I’m aware of the $20 co-pay” this is why I’m standing her waving my credit card at you… and “yes, I know what HIPAA is (by evidence that I already signed it before you asked) oh, and no I don’t need the sheet explaining it.” At this point Fran realizes I am keeping one eye on Myah who is holding her head in her hands as she sits in the chair I had previously deposited her in, and one eye on her as I was jumping through administrative hoops and proclaims “she really doesn’t look well, take this portable vomit bag.” Thanks Fran. We’re finally off to Care Unit C and we are quickly ushered into a room. Nurse Nancy (unlikely that is her real name) tries four times to take her blood pressure and fails each time. She then wheels in the digital reader which errors out after three additional attempts. Nurse Nancy asks Myah to stand so she could try again. This works and Myah is now the unlucky owner of a 74/48 blood pressure. Unfortunately the standing causes more dizziness and brings on the vomiting (seriously, thank you, Fran for the timely vomit bag). At this point Dr. S. (yes, that is her real initial) comes in and recommends IV fluids. They put a heart rate monitor on Myah's finger and then the panic sets in…her heart was beating 198 times per minute! Nurse Nancy and Assistant Nurse Annie (no, that’s probably not her real name either) fail miserably at their attempted to insert the IV but are thrilled to be able to cover up the needle mark with a shiny band aid which was supposed to make it all better. I decided to not be the parent that explains that a 14 year old in this condition couldn’t care less that her band aid could double for a disco ball. Enter Dr. McSomebody (I assume this is Dr. S’s boyfriend because I watch too much Grey’s Anatomy), who tells us Myah could have sepsis and we should head to the ER NOW. 911 is dispatched and we are now awaiting EMS. Within 5 minutes there is a gurney outside the room and the two EMT’s strap Myah down to prepare her for her very first (and hopefully last) emergency vehicle transport. Despite the stress of the moment, I did snap a picture to memorialize the occasion which earned me the hairy eyeball from Myah which in turn also told me she was feeling a little better already. In the ambulance she was hooked up to a 4-lead EKG which revealed nothing out of the ordinary. EMT Moustache cracked jokes about snow on May 1st while EMT Slim Shady verified that I am in fact Myah’s Mom. Since the EKG was normal we were deprived of wailing sirens and flashing lights which is kind of a bummer. The medical bill we’ll likely get should at least include a good story about whizzing through Coon Rapids as if we were in a high speed chase in my book! Needless to say our arrival to Mercy Hospital was underwhelming but we made it nonetheless. We were escorted to Room 23, instructed to have Myah don the ever fashion-less hospital gown and wait for the nurse. By this time Bob found us and we all settled in for what would end up being a very long day. Nurse Guy (not his name, just his gender) was the first to assess the situation and request a urine sample. Myah has long been a very private girl but in this instance had no problem requesting that I join her in the restroom to provide a step-by-step tutorial on peeing in a cup (I, of course was designated the pee courier as well). Eventually Dr. Taj (real first name) came in to see us citing concern over her still low blood pressure and high heart rate. He ordered the first liter of saline hoping it would bring her heart rate to an acceptable level. In the meantime a lovely phlebotomist arrived to retrieve blood samples for further testing. It is important to know at this point that Myah out right belly laughs when getting her blood drawn – it is her own special brand of coping. We apologize in advance that we will both be partaking in fits of laughter as soon as the alcohol swap touches her skin. I watch as the needle is removed from its sterile packaging and the giggling begins, she tries not to laugh right along with us; after all she was the one with sharp objects! Once complete and the laughter subsided she informed us this was her last blood draw…ever. After 23 years in the Allina HealthCare System she was packing up and moving to England and that Myah had been her first and last patient to giggle profusely while blood was being syphoned from her arm. At this point a battery of tests was completed; kidney function, blood cell counts, diabetes, liver, the whole gamut – with little in the way of an explanation to her condition. Dr. Taj reappears to deliver the “normal” results, chat a bit more, and order another liter of saline – surely this time it will bring her heart rate down. Not so. He explained that in rare occasions a person’s heart could be enlarged causing it to work harder therefore a heart ultrasound was on tap. Wanting to rule out all possibilities before ordering a D-dimer test, which could result in an unnecessary MRI, we agreed to all other avenues of investigation first. I will come back to the events of the ultrasound because it is, in fact the reason for this entire story. As a courtesy to the Reader, I should tell you her heart is just perfect for a healthy 14 year old – no issues at all. Since her heart rate was still high (my guess having a young and cute doctor that close didn’t help her cause), a third liter of saline was ordered. When that failed to produce the results the good doctor was hoping for and all blood tests came back normal we were forced to do the D-dimer; and needed more blood. Again we warned the new phlebotomist of the impending fit of laughter and delivered on it with a hearty display. Unfortunately Blood-taker Tony (his name was really John) was not as experienced as her previous one and her tears of laughter quickly turned to tears of pain and frustration. Having to resort to a vein ultrasound machine to draw two more vials of blood she was officially over her ER adventure. 9.5 hours, multiple blood tests, ultrasounds, IV fluids, hospital cafeteria food, and too many episodes of Bones later, we were given the green light to head home. The D-dimer was normal and we had finally exhausted all life-threatening possibilities for why we found ourselves in the Mercy ER on a snowy day in May. Charged with keeping close eye on her and returning if necessary, we left with the assurance that Myah is healthy coupled with the pang of still wondering why we ended up here in the first place.
The moment crafted just for me…
With the room illuminated only by the picture on the ultrasound monitor and not even the sounds of us breathing I watched as the Doctor searched for Myah’s heart with the gelled wand. I could hear it before I could see it; her heartbeat. Seconds later there it was, on the screen, whooshing and pumping in a rhythmic symphony. All at once I was fighting back the tears. Most Mom’s get to hear and see their baby’s heartbeat for the first time before they are born; a sigh of relief at the sign of life. For me, I had long ago given up the anticipation that I would ever have the chance to stare into a monitor with a silent prayer on my lips waiting for the Doctor to proclaim “everything looks great!” but in that hospital room, on a most peculiar day, I got to see my baby’s heartbeat for the very first time and that piece I was missing found its place securely in my own heart.
