Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Cold. Coughing. Contracting.

I had been there three days and I was not feeling well. The night before had been weird. I just felt funny. Cold. Coughing. Contracting...all night long. I was in the ante-pardum wing of the hospital so my nurses had been sparse that night. And in addition to my discomfort, I couldn't breathe. Note to self: Next time you gain 70 lbs and have triplets...lungs could be a bit restricted. I HAD successfully met the weight requirements so graciously bestowed upon me by my doctor. So, when I couldn't breathe laying on my back, my left side, or my right side, I thought of three possibilities: 1) All the green bean casserole I had eaten was finally having its' revenge and restricting my lungs. 2) I was having an anxiety attack or 3) I was getting sick - some kind of "the hospital is freezing at night" cold. So, I told my nurse that I felt like I couldn't breathe and she came to listen to my chest. "Your clear," she said with confidence. So, as most people do, I gave my nurse a vote of confidence, despite the raspy noise I could audibly hear every time I exhaled.

That day, was a big day. It was time for my Mag-Sulfate drip to be turned off and my Terbutaline pump to be restarted. I might be going home if it all worked out as planned. So, despite being winded, I was glad to be going home. Besides, after only three days the "room service" had turned out to be not so hot. I missed my Pooh tray. I missed Robb. I missed my mom, my sister, and my dad. I missed my fluffy King size bed and I needed some air (literally).

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