Janet +Trenton=Emma & Ben & Lyla: May 2012

I've always heard that "God works in mysterious ways," and there couldn't be a quote that is more applicable to my life. I am notorious for putting medical stuff off until it becomes absolutely necessary. I will avoid the doctor and the dentist until I am so miserable there just isn't another option. Last June I finally went to my family doctor complaining of the same chest pain I had been feeling for about a year prior. They ran an EKG, and suddenly I was being told I that I had suffered a heart attack. That same day I was sitting in front of Russell Linskey MD of Pikes Peak Cardiology. He looked like he was maybe a year or two older than me, which kind of comforted me because I knew he was familiar with the latest and greatest. But having a bunch of not-so-fun tests and enduring the weeks of worry between each test will certainly put a damper on your summer plans. Unfortunately each test came back just abnormal enough for him to worry and proceed with the next test. The official red flag was raised when, during the stress test, the stress echo revealed coronary artery disease. CAD at 28 years old? Whaaa? I was scheduled to have an Angio CT when I found out I was pregnant with Miss Lyla. That positive pregnancy stick brought the house down on any further tests. If you read anything on the internet about pregnancy and CAD, it isn't pretty. I was worried my doc would suggest a therapeutic abortion, but when I met with him about my big news, he gave me a big hug, a big congrats, and a not so big "watch and wait" treatment plan- with the understanding that as soon as the baby is born, we will continue with the CT. Finding out I was pregnant with Lyla was pretty scary, all things considered, but she was like a giant infusion of life during a time when I felt practically lifeless. Thankfully the two of us made it through the pregnancy beautifully. My heart acted kind of funky during labor and delivery, but none of the horrible things we were prepared for ever came to fruition. We were blessed.

Fast forward two months and this is when my gallstones were diagnosed. I was so excited to be meeting with the surgeon and hoping to have that pesky organ sucked out within the week. Upon listening to my heart, however, the surgeon asked if I had been diagnosed with any heart problems. Crap. After explaining the past year, the doctor didn't put another hand on me. "I'm not going to touch your gallbladder until we get clearance from your cardiologist." And I knew this meant that I was in for who knows how many other tests and procedures across the span of who knows how many more weeks or months, enduring who knows how many more gallstone attacks in the interim. And that's when I looked up to the heavens and thought, "You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?" I felt like I had been tricked- for my own good, I know. Trenton later joked that the cardiologist is going to say he can't touch me until I have that colonoscopy I've been putting off. And the gastroenterologist isn't going to touch me until I have all my teeth fixed, and the dentist won't touch me until I visit a psychologist to address my anxiety, etc...

So I went back to my cardiologist, and after everyone in the office took their turns ogling the baby, the doctor suggested we go ahead with the Angio CT. "It's no big deal. The most simple test. It will be over before you know it." And in theory- this is true. They put an IV in you, spray some nitroglycerin under your tongue, inject some dye, and scan you. From start to finish- it's over in seconds. The morning I showed up for the CT they ran an standard EKG and the nurse called another nurse in, who then said, "Oh my, sweetie- I can't believe you haven't had a heart attack just sitting here!" Such tact. Who put the clueless nurse on the cardiac floor? Anyway- apparently my heart was going nuts- something like 140 BPM. The CT isn't fast enough to catch such a tachycardic heart rate, and the lab literally didn't have enough beta blockers on hand to bring it down under the necessary 60 BPM, so my test was rescheduled for the next week. The next time they gave me a Xanax to take 20 minutes before. The stuff didn't even touch me. I didn't feel fuzzy, calm, blurry, sleepy- nothing. My heart was still beating above the 120's, over twice what it needed to be at for the test to be completed. The weird thing is that I felt completely calm. I wasn't consciously shaking or scared. It makes me wonder how many of my other ailments are caused by all this unconscious stress that constantly bubbles under the surface.

Keep in mind- all these weeks between attempts, I'm still dealing with gallstones and having to watch my diet like a hawk. ANY amount of fat can throw me into another attack.

Finally I visited with my cardiologist and he suggested we go ahead with the gold standard test for CAD and do the Angio-Catheterization. This is more invasive (they go through the femoral artery and thread a catheter to your heart where they inject the dye, get crystal clear images, and place a stent- if necessary.) I had been dreading this test for almost a year, but I was so fed up that my fear just didn't matter anymore. Once again the doctor insisted that, "The test was so easy- you'll be medicated and won't care. It will feel like a second and then it's over." It was all I could do to believe him. When he left the room, he left the door to the office open and I could hear him talking to the nurse down the hall. These were their exact words, Linskey- "Francis- we need to get Janet scheduled for an angiogram." Francis- "What? She just celebrated her 29th birthday yesterday!" Linskey- "I know she's young, but I don't want to take any chances and leave her three kids without a mom." Another nurse- "How sad. Happy Birthday to her."

Up until then, I never really considered that I was in any real danger. I felt confident in the confidence of my doctor that everything was okay. It occurred to me that he had been saving face with me. That he had legitimate concern, and maybe I was taking my life and all the beautiful things that have been happening to me lately for granted. I will never, ever forget how I felt standing there in his office, with my nose pressed against a floor to ceiling window that overlooks the Olympic Training Center. The lawns were perfectly manicured, and all the blossoms on the cherry trees had given way to rich, fibrous leaves that provided shade from the blazing sun for the classes of 2nd graders waiting to tour the training center. I remember thinking, "How can life be so normal outside when my entire world feels like it just crashed overhead?" Numb, I sat and watched the required video about the procedure and left the office feeling like everyone was looking at me with pity. I hate that. Everything changed when I went to pick up the kids from my mom's.

My mom had the kids that day- and when I got home there were police cars in my parents' driveway. It turns out my mom had been randomly shot at while driving earlier that day (you can watch the news cast here.) The investigators said that the trajectory revealed that if the window hadn't caught the bullet, my mom would have been shot in the head. There are so many aspects of this that are disturbing. Who are the people that did this? Where are they? What kind of gun/bullet did they use? Why? What if my mom had been so freaked out that she drove into oncoming traffic? What if she had a suffered a heart attack because of it? What if she had been shot in the head?!?

Suddenly I had a very real reminder of all the cliches about life... that it's short, it's a gift, and we only get this one body to live it. And they didn't feel like cliches anymore. That day kind of changed my life and the way I've been living it. Why have I been wasting so much time, and most likely doing damage to every cell of my body with all this stress and anxiety? I finally came to the resolution that I wouldn't let anything I have control over get in the way of enjoying my time on earth. I also realized that I could die at any moment, for any number of reasons. We all could. And I needed to start living the life I wanted to be remembered for. Not this. I don't want my life to be a memoriam for stress, anxiety, OCD, and all the other crap that plagues my everyday life. Another important decision I made that day was to stop treating my body with such disrespect. If something hurts, it needs to be addressed- not ignored.

My mom drove me to my angiogram and stayed with me before and after the procedure. The whole experience was just as my doctor said it would be- quick and painless. The only negative part of the whole process was having to lay completely still for four hours after the procedure. I couldn't even get up to go to the bathroom. And I had to stay relatively flat for 72 hours after.

But I made it. I survived. Life is good.

I don't have my follow up with my cardiologist until next week, so it's hard to say what our next step is. Hopefully I can get my gallbladder out. I do know that each of these experiences have made me a tougher broad. Maybe I won't be such a baby my next 30 years.

Trenton and I were driving home from the most heavenly anniversary trip in Denver when I started feeling that familiar upper right abdominal pain that has been plaguing me for the past several YEARS. It's always hard to know what that pain is going to turn into. Most of the time it's just this sort of gnawing, icky pain that puts a damper on things. But sometimes it turns into what I have always referred to as "attacks"- because they come on with no warning and cause me to double over in the most horrendous, nauseating, stabbing, sickening pain- leaving me ill for days on end. I'm always telling Trenton things like, "This is worse than childbirth." Or, "How could the doctor's not find something? This pain is REAL and if I had the ability I would plunge my hand in my stomach and show you exactly where it hurts!"

This particular "attack" would prove to be the worst yet. By the time we got home, I couldn't sit, stand, walk, lay down- nothing made me feel better. I couldn't leave the bathroom for 24 hours and the pain had me contemplating running my head into a wall to knock myself out. The only reason I was finally able to abandon my bathroom and crawl into bed was because there was literally nothing left in my body. Unfortunately, Trenton's ticket to Mexico for his brother's wedding was already booked and non-refundable. I had no other choice but to endure the pain and care for the three kids by myself for the weekend. My best friend Autum must have been given a prompting from above, because she showed up on Saturday without being called and asked what she could do to help. I'm sure she had a hard time cutting through my sobs to understand what I was saying, but after explaining the pain I was experiencing she said, "Janet- this sounds like exactly what I would go through when I had gallstone attacks." And of course my response to that was, "I've already had my gallbladder scanned- three times, and the doctors always say it comes up clean."

Then she said, "Check again."

I made it through one more night in this pain until finally calling my parents and begging for relief. The attack started on Thursday afternoon- this was Sunday. My dad urged me to go to the hospital (but anyone that knows me understands I will put up with almost anything to avoid the hospital). My mom insisted. I had finally reached that level of pain where I didn't care. I was no longer scared. I just needed answers. It didn't take long, once I pointed out where the pain was, for the doctor to order another ultrasound of my gallbladder. It did seem like we waited forever for the results, but then the doctor casually popped his head in the door and said, "I'm sorry for the wait- I'll be back in a moment, but I wanted to let you know that we did find gallstones and your gallbladder is very distended."

I immediately burst into tears- not because I was upset, but because after YEARS of feeling this pain, there was finally an answer. Where there is a diagnosis, there's a treatment, and hopefully relief. I never thought I'd be so happy to see a gallstone.

After doing more research on gallbladder disease, I'm finding this could be the source of my IBS, chronic nausea, and even headaches. I'm trying not to put too much stock in having it removed. I would be devastated if nothing changes. There is a lot to be said for hope, right?