Malignant Hyperthermia

8 years ago today I almost died. 

Not like "omg I saw a spider and I almost died" kind of died.

Like, I could feel my body breaking around me. 

There's a certain kind of terror that comes when you realize that you can't control your own body anymore- that you're completely reliant on the people who are supposed to be taking care of you. You hope that they know what they're doing. You know that they don't know you from Adam, but you REALLY hope that that doesn't matter right now. Because if they mess up, if they can't keep your body from breaking, you keep dying. 

You see a doctor drop his briefcase and run to you. You hear them yelling and you don't understand what's happening. They start putting cooling blankets and ice on you, and you try to tell them that they're overreacting, you think you're shaking because you're just cold. But you can't unclench your jaw to speak and you don't know why. 

You're suddenly naked. The bed is shaking because you're shaking so hard, and dozens of strangers in scrubs are standing over you, yelling orders, sticking things in you, packing you in ice, telling you to hold your breath...trying to help hold you together. The nurse forgets to tell you to breathe once the line is in, because she jumped to the next thing  she needs to do to keep you alive. 

A stranger grabs your hand as another line goes in, because they heard you begging  them to not let you die. Or maybe it was to stop your arm from shaking, but they held on for awhile after the line was in, so maybe it was both. 

There wasn't time for pain or panic- not for me and not for them. I had so many tubes in my body, and I didn't cry. I couldn't. There wasn't room for me to cry in those moments. I did what they told me to do. I swallowed the NG tube, I didn't breathe, I didn't flinch when they stuck a needle in my neck. I didn't panic. 

For a 23 year old girl who had never even had an IV before, that's an accomplishment.

They couldn't get my temperature externally, so they shoved something else inside of me. I had tubes coming from every hole in my body, including the extra holes that they made. 

I asked the nurse what was wrong with me, she said "malignant hyperthermia." 

I had no clue what that was. She might as well have told me something in Latin. In her defense though, it's not easily explained. I had muscle rigidity/rigors. My temperature was up to 105. My urine was brown because my kidneys were struggling. I had too much CO2 when I exhaled, and I was tachycardic. 

It went on for 6 hours. I was in and out for 6 hours, they were giving me something to knock me out whenever I started waking up again. Every time I woke up I begged them not to let me die. I was terrified that I wasn't going to wake up the next time I closed my eyes. I thought about Andrew, and my parents and Megan & I begged God to not let me die. I didn't want to die before I had lived. 

They took a chest X-ray before switching me to a new stretcher. 

2 things: 

1. The last chest X-ray I had was when I was 14 & I was mortified Bc the male Dr. could see the outline of my boobs. 

2. I was still naked. 

They took a chest X-ray to check for fluid on my lungs. They had to push a LOT of Dantrolene & fluid in. My whole body was swollen, but it was still together. I was still working. 

All I could think of was trying to apologize for how fat I was (I wasn't, but I thought I was) while they moved me from stretcher to bed. I couldn't even form words, but that was a thought that stuck out. 

Then I was in ICU, and Andrew was there, and my parents & Megan & my friends. And they were all crying. It was dark. Then everyone left, except for my sweet husband of 10 months who slept on a bench in the corner. I could barely move, I couldn't really talk & I was so tired. 

Then I cried. I couldn't even wipe my face, the O2 mask was in the way, and it hurt to move my arms.

Then I slept, knowing I would wake up this time. 

I had to have another surgery 8 days later, and 23 year old me wrote my final wishes & thoughts for my loved ones- just in case. 

I went to surgical tech school a month later. My mom died 11 months later, and I joined L&D 6 months after that. 

I've now been on both sides of the situation (not MH specifically, but emergency situations.)  I know more now, though. I try to hold their hands if I can, and I do my best to do my part in holding them together. I know how scared they are. I'm proud to be a part of fixing it. I'm glad I get to. 

So that's the story of when I almost died (with a bonus epilogue chapter.)