Two Years Ago Today

Two years ago today, Jaymeson and I suffered from Carbon Monoxide (CO) poisoning while I was 36 weeks pregnant with Tatum. Jaymeson and I have been through a lot the last 2 years during our recovery, and still have a lot to go through. A lot of it is unknown at this point, but it is there.

I didn't think today was going to feel much different than any other day. But, I woke up this morning, moved the laundry from the washer to the dryer, heard my sweet baby boy shout "Mom! Get out?" from behind his bedroom door, and I burst into tears. I opened his bedroom door and I saw his sweet, perfect, little face laying on his bed just staring at me. I picked him up and held him close, kissed his face a million times, and whispered "I love you so much" in his ear over and over again. He even whispered "love you much" back. He will never understand the magnitude of my love for him. He will never fully understand what it meant to save his parents lives before he was even born. And I will never forget that I could have lived my life without him in it.

Jaymeson and I often lay together after the kids go to bed and just hold each other and reminisce about our lives and our story. This one comes up often as we talk about the changes that we are each going through and how they effect ourselves and each other and our families. It's still so unreal to both of us. It's like it was all a dream. I can't even explain it. We lived those moments, we are still suffering from the experience, but somehow it just doesn't seem real. 

I heard on a song on the radio recently that reminded me of how I feel currently. I hate when official music videos ruin the song. So here it is with just the lyrics,

And all those things I didn't say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?
This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I'm alright song
My power's turned on
Starting right now I'll be strong
I'll play my fight song
'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

Starting today, I will let go of what's gone, appreciate what still remains, and look forward to what's coming next.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Look here and here for a recap.

Things you don't say to someone with a TBI

What is a TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury)? Well, google defines it as "an insult to the brain from an external force or substance, possibly leading to permanent or temporary impairment of cognitive, physical, and psychosocial functions, with an associated diminished or altered state of consciousness."

This could mean anything, right? A car accident, a sport accident, falling down the stairs, physical abuse, lack of oxygen to the brain, etc...

Being someone who has experienced a TBI (lack of oxygen to the brain through Carbon Monoxide poisoning), I have experienced the frustration of feeling as though no one understands what you are going through, and feeling as though you have no support. It's true, it's close to impossible to understand or truly support someone who is experiencing a trial that we have not been through ourselves. But as good friends, neighbors, and family members, we try to be there for those we know that are experiencing something difficult.  

I was thinking about those posts that you see about what not to say to certain people experiencing certain things (ie; What not to say to a Pregnant Person, What not to say to a Stay at Home Mom, etc), and decided to come up with one of my own regarding TBI's. Mostly because it's a way to get my frustration out about it without offending anyone directly. I think it's good to be aware of these things, because you never know who you may come in contact with who is suffering from a TBI. Remember, TBI's almost always show no physical signs and can be hard to detect.

For background on what I am reffering to, click here or here.

So, with the help of brainline.org, here is my list of 10 Things Not to Say to Someone with a Brain Injury

1. You seem fine to me.

"The invisible signs of a brain injury — memory and concentration problems, fatigue, insomnia, chronic pain, depression, or anxiety — these are sometimes more difficult to live with than visible disabilities. Research shows that having just a scar on the head can help a person with a brain injury feel validated and better understood. Your loved one may look normal, but shrugging off the invisible signs of brain injury is belittling. Consider this: a memory problem can be much more disabling than a limp."

I have experienced this on countless occasions. In a way it is nice to hear, but more often than not, it is belittling and frustrating. Yes, I am happy that you can't tell by looking at me that I function a lot less normal than I used to. But also, that doesn't make me feel very validated in the changes that I am experiencing. In fact, it makes me feel like you don't believe that what I am going through is really anything at all. It makes me feel like the 2-3 doctor/therapy appointments I go to every week are considered pointless, when in reality they are changing my life.

 

2. Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough (you’re lazy).

"Lazy is not the same as apathy (lack of interest, motivation, or emotion). Apathy is a disorder and common after a brain injury. Apathy can often get in the way of rehabilitation and recovery, so it’s important to recognize and treat it. Certain prescription drugs have been shown to reduce apathy. Setting very specific goals might also help.

Do beware of problems that mimic apathy. Depression, fatigue, and chronic pain are common after a brain injury, and can look like (or be combined with) apathy. Side effects of some prescription drugs can also look like apathy. Try to discover the root of the problem, so that you can help advocate for proper treatment."

I have never experienced someone telling me that I am lazy. If they had, they probably would have been knocked to the ground because I am the very opposite of lazy. In fact, I have been accused, by at least 2 of my doctors, of taking on too many responsibilities and inhibiting my recovery. However, I have definitely felt a lack of interest to do things, including spend time with my friends, lack of motivation to do the things that need to get done, including laundry and dishes, and lack of emotion about things that matter, including arguments that Jaymeson and I may get into. I have also felt the guilt that goes along with that. I think the best thing to do is to push me a little bit. It's good for me to get out of the house and spend time with friends, or not give up on my regular responsibilities, or to force myself to care about something when I know I don't want to. So don't take no for an answer... unless I have a really good excuse.

 

3. You’re such a grump!

"Irritability is one of the most common signs of a brain injury. Irritability could be the direct result of the brain injury, or a side effect of depression, anxiety, chronic pain, sleep disorders, or fatigue. Think of it as a biological grumpiness — it’s not as if your loved one can get some air and come back in a better mood. It can come and go without reason.

It’s hard to live with someone who is grumpy, moody, or angry all the time. Certain prescription drugs, supplements, changes in diet, or therapy that focuses on adjustment and coping skills can all help to reduce irritability."

I have heard this one quite a few times myself, and to be honest with you, I can't blame them. I am more of a grump than I have ever been. But that doesn't mean I like it, or I want to be that way. I believe that it is mostly because my brain is not able to handle as many things as it used to. So, while I look like I'm angry or not having fun, my mind is probably just preoccupied with other things that I am not realizing where I am. I have also been accused by a therapist of not living in the moment. That's actually one of the main things I am working on right now. Living in the moment and not letting my brain wander and missing out on regular every day occurrences because my brain is "out of this world". 

 

4. How many times do I have to tell you?

"It’s frustrating to repeat yourself over and over, but almost everyone who has a brain injury will experience some memory problems. Instead of pointing out a deficit, try finding a solution. Make the task easier. Create a routine. Install a memo board in the kitchen. Also, remember that language isn’t always verbal. “I’ve already told you this” comes through loud and clear just by facial expression."

I have never been told this out of anger, but I have been told similar things in a joking, nonchalant manner. Something along the lines of being frustrated because I didn't hear them the first time, or that I asked them the same question multiple times. Again, for me, it's a multitasking thing. If I can't focus on what you are saying because I am preoccupied with something else, chances are I have no idea what you said. In some of the therapy that I go to, I am learning ways around this. Such as, taking notes, asking you to repeat yourself, asking you to slow down, etc. Some of them are working, and some of them still need some work. 

 

5. Do you have any idea how much I do for you?

"Your loved one probably knows how much you do, and feels incredibly guilty about it. It’s also possible that your loved one has no clue, and may never understand. This can be due to problems with awareness, memory, or apathy — all of which can be a direct result of a brain injury. You do need to unload your burden on someone, just let that someone be a good friend or a counselor."

This seems like something very harsh to say to someone who is struggling, and I personally haven't heard it so I don't have much to say. So... just take note.

 

6. Your problem is all the medications you take.

"Prescription drugs can cause all kinds of side effects such as sluggishness, insomnia, memory problems, mania, sexual dysfunction, or weight gain — just to name a few. Someone with a brain injury is especially sensitive to these effects. But, if you blame everything on the effects of drugs, two things could happen. One, you might be encouraging your loved one to stop taking an important drug prematurely. Two, you might be overlooking a genuine sign of brain injury.

It’s a good idea to regularly review prescription drugs with a doctor. Don’t be afraid to ask about alternatives that might reduce side effects. At some point in recovery, it might very well be the right time to taper off a drug. But, you won’t know this without regular follow-up."

I am not currently taking any medications, other than good ole' birth control or some sort of antibiotic to fight off whatever sickness has invaded my body. I have personally made a solid effort to try to resolve my impairments on my own instead of relying on medication to make it happen. I believe that I will be stronger in the end for it, and that I will have less chance of relapsing if I can learn to deal with this myself. Sometimes I do feel like I need something and that I can't do it on my own, so I understand completely how the statement above can be very frustrating. I know how it feels to not want to do any of this anymore and just give up. Some people have less will power or are less stubborn than I am, but the medication thing is definitely a reality. 

 

7. Let me do that for you.

"Independence and control are two of the most important things lost after a brain injury. Yes, it may be easier to do things for your loved one. Yes, it may be less frustrating. But, encouraging your loved one to do things on their own will help promote self-esteem, confidence, and quality of living. It can also help the brain recover faster.

Do make sure that the task isn’t one that might put your loved one at genuine risk — such as driving too soon or managing medication when there are significant memory problems."

I am guilty of trying to control too many situations, even before the brain injury. I feel capable of doing most things thrown at me, and as a result of that, I sometimes don't trust others to being able to appropriately handle things (at least the same way that I would). I have a hard time allowing people to do things for me unless I know that it is so so simple that they can't screw it up or it's something that I just don't want to do. But even now, I'm learning that it's important to do things for myself to help rebuild those skills that I lost. Yes, I need to give up more responsibilities sometimes, but I don't need to hand off the responsibilities or even part of the responsibilities that I have chosen to take on just because I may be a little slower at it than I used to be. Practice makes perfect, and that is true in the recovery process. 

 

8. Try to think positively.

"That’s easier said than done for many people, and even harder for someone with a brain injury. Repetitive negative thinking is called rumination, and it can be common after a brain injury. Rumination is usually related to depression or anxiety, and so treating those problems may help break the negative thinking cycle.

Furthermore, if you tell someone to stop thinking about a certain negative thought, that thought will just be pushed further towards the front of the mind (literally, to the prefrontal cortex). Instead, find a task that is especially enjoyable for your loved one. It will help to distract from negative thinking, and release chemicals that promote more positive thoughts."

Literally, this is the hardest thing to do. "Think positively." Yea. Sure, I can think to myself that I am lucky to be alive, or I'm lucky to not have as many issues as this other person. But to actually be able to think positively in the midst of a real struggle, is sometimes extremely difficult.

 

9. You’re lucky to be alive.

"This sounds like positive thinking, looking on the bright side of things. But be careful. A person with a brain injury is six times more likely to have suicidal thoughts than someone without a brain injury. Some may not feel very lucky to be alive. Instead of calling it “luck,” talk about how strong, persistent, or heroic the person is for getting through their ordeal. Tell them that they’re awesome."

This is the number one thing that I hear. And honestly, it doesn't really bother me. It actually makes me feel special. It's true. I am lucky to be alive. Jaymeson is lucky to be alive. And Tatum is lucky to be alive even more! I haven't experienced any suicidal thoughts or similar, thank goodness. Sometimes I do feel like I can't do this anymore, or I can't deal with that anymore.  I understand why someone would have those terrible thoughts. It is beyond frustrating not being able to live and act and be the same person you have lived your whole life being. Having to completely restructure yourself, by no choice of your own, is not an easy task.

 

10. Take your time -- we are not in a hurry.  

I took one out that I felt didn't really apply, and added this one. People who have experienced a TBI often are not as quick as they used to be. Saying "Take your time, we are not in a hurry", while very considerate of you, also makes us feel like a project or incapable. We know that we need to take our time in order to effectively do something. We know that you are waiting on us. We know that you can probably do it faster. Although it may be a considerate statement, think about how you would feel if you were struggling to do something you used to be able to do just fine and someone telling you to take your time because they aren't in a hurry. (You know, because if they were in a hurry, you better not be taking your time.) Don't you think you'd feel a little unnecessary pressure? Maybe I'm crazy.

 

11. And as an added bonus... Are you sure your doctors know what they are doing?

This one I also added myself, and is my favorite. And by favorite, I mean least favorite. No. I have absolutely no idea if my doctor's know what they are doing. They are just my doctors, who specialize in what I am going through. They are just changing my life, little by little, every time I see them. They are sometimes the only support that I have. They only studied exactly the treatment that is recommended for me for several years of their life. You're right. They don't know what they are doing. Ok... lots of sarcasm. But really, I'm not a doctor. So I guess I don't really know. I just know what has been recommended for me and my family, and what is helping us right now. 

 

I'm lucky (or unlucky) because my husband was also exposed to CO poisoning at the same time. So even though he may not be experiencing all of the same side effects that I am, he understands that I am different and that I am going through changes, and it may be awhile before I can adjust enough to feel comfortable in my own skin again. It also makes our relationship a lot harder than it used to be sometimes. We are both going through so many changes, and sometimes you just want consistency. Sometimes it's frustrating if the one thing you are supposed to count on (your spouse) is not always capable of being counted on due to their injury. Jaymeson and I are both loyal and determined people, and I have no doubt that we will make it through this and be stronger in the end. So, maybe we are lucky. :)

A short update on each of us: I am still going through Cognitive Rehab and Counseling. I am progressing on up the "scale of recovery" and things are going well. I definitely have my hard days, and some very hard days. But I am grateful that I am near specialists who can help me, and that I am able to get the treatment that I need. I really don't like the person CO has changed me to be. I really hope someday I will get back to who I used to be before, but I don't know if that's a reality. Jaymeson, due to work, has not been able to start his recommended treatment yet. We are hoping that he will be able to work out a schedule with his office soon that will allow him to get the treatment he needs regularly. Tatum is perfect, almost. He has had some kidney issues, that may or may not be related to the CO poisoning. (More likely that they are considering the kidney issues he had just prior to birth and at birth.) We are treating it as it comes, and hopefully we will have more answers soon. Other than that, he is perfect. He is developing just how he should be, and he is the light of our lives!  

Someday, when I am in a better state of mind, I hope to create some serious awareness for CO poisoning. It may be a few years before I am able to do this, but it is something I want to do and feel strongly about. I will use this blog to follow our progress sometimes, but I am always open to talking to people about it. Sometimes it's hard, but that's good for me. So, if you have questions, feel free to ask. And for now in terms of awareness, if you don't have a CO detector in your home... GET ONE. Seriously. Here is a link for one. :)  

 

One Year

It's been ONE YEAR since this happened. One year, since we almost lost our own lives, and our unborn baby's life. One year, that changed the rest of our lives forever.

It's been a long time since I've blogged, so I had to make a dramatic opening. ;)

But really, it's been one year exactly since Jaymeson sluggishly drove us to the hospital with concerns about not feeling the baby move, only to find out we were minutes away from death by Carbon Monoxide poisoning. Jaymeson and I think about that day all the time. It's really crazy to think about and to try to remember all the details!

I think about the feeling of me not being able to sleep all night, and the feeling of having to physically wake Jaymeson up that morning. I think about how it took us over an hour to pack our weekend bag to check out because we were both so weak. I think about Jaymeson opening the window in the bedroom and telling me that he felt like he could breath better when he stuck his head out of the window. I think about feeling weird and dark, and weak. I think about finally getting our bags together and dropping to the floor next to the front door because I couldn't move anymore. I think about stumbling down the hallway to the elevator and telling Jaymeson to just leave me because I couldn't go anymore. I think about him encouraging me and lifting me out of the chair so that we could get out of the building. I think about finally getting out the front door and slowly walking through the parking lot to our car, dropping our bags and collapsing in the car. I think about sitting in the passenger seat waiting to feel better, to feel anything. I think about Jaymeson calling my doctor's office because I hadn't felt the baby move in days. I think about waiting for a call back from my doctor who reluctantly told us to go ahead and come to Labor and Delivery. I think about checking into the hospital and having my blood taken. I think about my doctor coming back into our room with the test results, with wide eyes, telling us that I had outrageous amounts of CO in my blood and the baby was barely alive. I think about them taking Jaymeson to the Emergency Room and being left by myself with hardly any understanding of what was going on. I think about that one last text from Jaymeson telling me they were hooking him up to all sorts of machines, before his phone died and I didn't heard from him for hours. I think about the doctors telling us that we were lucky to be alive and that they shouldn't have told us to drive ourselves to the hospital. I think about them telling me that they were going to have to transport Jaymeson to another hospital to treat him. I think about my doctor trying all sorts of methods to get the baby's heart rate moving again. I think about begging the doctor to find a way to keep me and Jaymeson together. I think about being wheeled down the hall towards the Hyperbaric Chambers, not knowing at all what they were, but knowing I'd be spending the next 3 hours locked inside of one. I think about finally seeing Jaymeson again, in a wheelchair, with an oxygen mask strapped to his face. I think about them putting the air tight helmet on my head and panicking because of claustrophobia. I think about being injected with Adavan to calm my nerves. I think about test after test after test and no sleep and no understanding what was going on. I think about my how scared we were that the baby wasn't going to be okay. I think about them telling us that we would have serious neurological damage that would affect us for the rest of our lives. I think about the doctors repeatedly telling me that I was in "uncharted territories" and they had never heard of a situation like mine. (Being 36 weeks pregnant and having CO poisoning as serious as ours.) I think about hearing the doctors saying that they didn't know what was going to happen to the baby.

Carbon Monoxide is funny. The symptoms are never ending. At least that's what all of our doctors tell us. Symptoms we felt then, are completely different and stronger now 6 months later. Symptoms 6 months later are different and stronger now, one year later. It's very heartbreaking for me to think about the damage that CO poisoning can do to someone, and then hear that most people don't get treated for it. Most people feel like we felt, and just let it be and then end up with so much Neurological damage later on in their lives. And then I think about how we almost did that. If it wasn't for not feeling the baby moving, we probably would have done that. And Tatum might not have made it. We might have ended up completely brain damaged. Tatum is our life saver.

The hardest thing for me to think about, is not having him. I didn't even love him or know him then. A lot of people talk about becoming pregnant and immediately being in love with their baby before they are even born. It wasn't like that for me. I loved him then, but I didn't know how much I loved him. And to think about him passing away and never being able to meet him and get to know him and feel this way about him, makes my heart break.

We don't talk about this a lot, because it is awkward, and sad, and frustrating, but I have been encouraged by my doctors to open up about our situation so that we can create a strong support group for ourselves. Jaymeson and I are suffering from the never ending symptoms of CO poisoning. At first we felt fine, and slowly as the months went on, we noticed that I was forgetting things. I was stumbling over my own feet. I was having trouble concentrating. I was leaving the stove on all night, or my car on all day. Jaymeson was slurring words and not making sense. Both of us are abnormally fatigued, and our body temperature not the same. At our 6 month follow up appointment, our Hyperbaric doctor made the determination that I needed to have extensive neuro-psychological testing. Jaymeson did as well, but he wasn't ready to take that step. My 8 hour appointment was scheduled one month in advance.

So, I took the day off work, arranged for Tatum to be babysat by my good friend and next door neighbor, and headed to my appointment. I had no idea what to expect, and I had no idea how exhausting the testing was going to be. But I did it, and I'm so glad I did. One month later I came back for the results. They told me that my tests show that I have highly above average intelligence, that I am very capable, and that everything looks good. Except for my memory. For my age and health, memory is normally in the 80%. Mine came back 20% and I was told that if the treatment they were going to send me to didn't work, then I was on the road to Dementia. I got a referral for Cognitive Rehab, to work on my working memory, memorial recall, processing, and concentration.They also determined that they wanted to do a little bit more testing on my balance, and also my eyes. So I was sent to a Balance Specialist and a Neuro-Ophthalmologist (this appointment is yet to be scheduled).

I go to Cognitive Rehab every week, and it is very difficult. We practice a lot of memory and concentration skills, and I usually end my hour very fatigued and with a headache. I really like my therapist and I'm really hoping that it starts to get easier because sometimes I feel like I can no longer take it. One thing that I really need to work on is taking it easy. I'm so used to taking on a lot of responsibilties and being able to handle it, but currently my brain is not capable of handling as much as it used to. It was a very hard and emotional session when we came to the realization that I needed to give some of it up and rely more on my "support system."

I did go to the Balance Specialist, where within 5 minutes of testing, they determined that I would need to go to Balance Rehab as well. My hearing was perfect, and everything else looked good. The problem was that the part of my brain that helps me to balance, has died or is severely damaged. I have noticed more and more lately that I get dizzy easily and black out occasionally. Sometimes I am so dizzy that I throw up. I go to Balance Rehab about every other week. We practice a lot of skills to help me rebuild my balance and stability, but it's very hard. I would say it's even harder than the Cognitive Rehab. I usually leave feeling very sick and am out of it for the rest of the day.

Jaymeson has finally decided he is ready to take the neurological tests that I did, and his appointment is scheduled for the end of August. 

Tatum is still very unknown. He seems like a very healthy and happy baby boy, but I am told over and over again that his development levels could change at any time. So, we wait. And we pray that by some miracle, he will stay healthy and not be affected by the CO poisoning. It makes my heart break to think about him having to feel and go through the things that I am going through right now. 

One year ago, our lives changed in the craziest way. I know that every thing happens for a reason, but I can't say I understand in any way why this happened to us. I am grateful that we made it, I am grateful that Jaymeson pushed me so hard to get out of that building, and I am grateful our baby boy is here with us. His first birthday is next week, and I am so excited to celebrate his life with our friends and family. 

When Jaymeson and I are both done treating, we have big plans to create awareness for CO poisoning. It is a very scary thing that most people are in the dark about. If you don't have CO detectors in your home, I URGE you to get them. They are only about $25 per detector, and they can save your life. Get your furnaces and boilers checked every year, and make sure they check for CO before they leave. 

Well, that's all for now! I will try to do better with the blog. Love you all! 

The day our unborn baby saved our lives...

Jaymeson and I decided to take a weekend getaway to celebrate our one year anniversary, and have a little together time before this baby comes. We did it about 4 weeks in advance, just in case the baby decided to come early.

 We decided to stay in downtown Salt Lake City at the Kimball Condos, and take a few days to just relax and be together. Friday night after Jayah got picked up by her mom, we loaded into the car and went to dinner at Jaymeson's favorite restaurant, Ruby River. After dinner, we decided we should probably stock up on some snacks (AKA cereal) for the weekend because the condo we were staying in had a full kitchen for us to use. We raced to Jaymeson's mom's store to hopefully get there before it closed and didn't make it. So we decided to brave the Downtown Harmons. Holy craziness, where do you even park at that place?? It's like a 3 or 4 story grocery store, with cooking classes and tons of other stuff inside. Cool place, but really, where are you supposed to park? We stocked up on some cereal and got a redbox and headed to the condo for the night. I wasn't feeling very good, so I ended up falling asleep, leaving my sweet husband to watch Breaking Dawn Pt. 2 by himself.

Saturday, we woke up whenever our bodies felt like it, and went to the Salt Lake City Temple to do some sealings. One of my best friends has a tradition with her husband that they do sealings every year on their anniversary, so I decided to steal their tradition. :) Thanks Jess! It was actually the first time that Jaymeson or I had ever done sealings, besides our own. And it was pretty cool. :) After sealings, we walked around temple square and then walked back to the condo to change into regular clothes.

 For lunch, we decided to go walk around City Creek. We ate at Johnny Rockets, and then wandered City Creek until Jaymeson realized that City Creek was a completely different place than the Gateway. So, we got in our car and drove on over to the Gateway, because that's where we wanted to be. At the Gateway, we walked around and did some window shopping, checked out Build-a-Bear, and a few other fun places, and even got the online price for some PJs that I wanted for the baby's delivery from Victoria's Secret. (Which you will see later...)

Then it started to rain. And as you know, the Gateway is an outdoor mall. So we found some shelter and sat and waited out the rain. Then we went to see "Now You See Me" at the Gateway Theatre, which was actually pretty good. Jaymeson had a pretty strong headache the entire time, so I don't know how much of it he actually saw, but I would recommend it!

After the movie, we drove around downtown to find a gas station to get Jaymeson some tylenol or something. There are NO gas stations downtown. It took us maybe 15 minutes to find one! Then we went back to the condo, Jaymeson fell asleep, and I continued to watch Breaking Dawn Pt. 2 by myself!

I developed a headache at some point in the night and didn't sleep very much. At about 8 AM or so, I gave up trying to sleep and decided to eat some cereal and start packing up because we had to check out of the condo by 11. I had started to feel kind of weird, weak mostly. I woke up Jaymeson shortly after, and he still had a bad headache. He took a shower, hoping that would help, and then attempted to help me pack everything up for check out. Both of us starting to feel very light headed, and weak. It was the weirdest thing. We would take a few steps and then stumble and have to lay down or sit down before we could see clearly again. The whole room seemed dim, every sound seemed like it was inside our heads, and we could barely do anything without needing to take a break.

Jaymeson felt like he wasn't able to breath very well, so he opened the windows and we hung out of them for a few minutes before we continued trying to pack up. It took us close to 2 hours to get our tiny weekend bags packed and out the door. In fact, we got everything next to the door and had to stop and lay down for a few minutes before we could even continue. Jaymeson felt like there was really something wrong in that room and pushed us both to get out of the building as quickly as we could. We stumbled to the elevator and (Jaymeson's brother makes fun of me for this...) I told Jaymeson to just go ahead and go while I rested for a few minutes and then I would meet him out there. He encouraged me to get up and come with him so that we could both get out together. So I did.

We checked out and stumbled out to the car. We threw our bags on the ground and got in the car so we could rest. We sat there for about 30 minutes before Jaymeson had the strength to get out and put our bags in the car. We continued sitting there for another 30 minutes, because neither of us had the strength to drive away. I started to get really worried because I hadn't felt the baby move in a few days (you are supposed to feel them 10 times in an hour), so Jaymeson called my midwives office and explained the situation to the answering service. The midwife called back shortly later, and suggested that we come into Labor and Delivery and have the baby monitored.

So, Jaymeson somehow mustered up enough strength to drive us from downtown SLC to the hospital where I will be delivering. They hooked me up to an IV (my first IV ever) and baby monitors to monitor my uterus and the baby's heart rate. Once the monitors were on, we saw that the baby's heart rate was very low, almost not there. So they decided to keep me monitored for a little while, and try a couple things to shake the baby up to get his heart rate going again. 

The nurse kept asking about our weekend, and after Jaymeson explained how we were feeling that morning, she decided that she needed to test my blood. They took 6 or 7 viles of blood from me. A few minutes later, the nurse received a call from whoever tested my blood, went away to take the call, came back and said "You have an outrageous amount of carbon monoxide in your blood. And I'm assuming you do too (to Jaymeson). Let's get you to the ER." So, they took my husband to the ER, and hooked me up to an oxygen mask, while I sat there really not understanding what was going on.

They kept coming in and out asking more questions about where we were, and how long we had been there, etc. She said that the guy who tested the blood asked if we had spent the night in a building on fire, because our carbon monoxide levels were so high. (Normal is 0-2, and both of ours were over 22+.) She said that we were lucky to be alive, and that she should not have had us drive ourselves to the hospital.

Jaymeson's phone died, so I had no idea what was going on with him. They kept mentioning this weird chamber thing and that they were going to have to transport Jaymeson to a different hospital, and a whole bunch of other stuff that I didn't understand, and then my mother in law showed up. Luckily, Jaymeson was able to get ahold of her before his phone died so she came as quickly as she scould. She saw Jaymeson first in the ER and said that he was hooked up to oxygen and IV's like I was. In the meantime, the baby's heart rate was still "sluggish".

After an hour or so, they said they were going to take me to the Hyperbaric Chamber, and that they were able to figure out a way to have Jaymeson and I together. Thank goodness. So, they wheeled me to another part of the hospital where I met Jaymeson. Both of us in hospital gowns, hooked up to oxygen masks. They took more blood, ran a few other tests, and then talked about how we'd be spending the next 3 hours in the Hyperbaric Chamber. I still really had no idea what that meant. 

They wheeled us into a room that reminded me of being in a spaceship or something. They talked about how they were going to pressurize the room to the "third atmosphere" and fill the room with straight oxygen. The purpose being to basically suck all of the carbon monoxide out of our system, and add straight oxygen. Good news is, we could watch a movie! 

They sealed the doors shut with me, Jaymeson, and a technician inside. The room started to pressurize, and we could feel our ears popping. Once we were to the "third atmosphere", we had to put our helmets on. This part really freaked me out. I am slightly claustrophobic, so when I had this helmet suctioned to my neck, I started to panic. I got the technicians attention and mouthed to him that I couldn't breath. He was very nice, but probably thought I was an idiot because his response was "You are breathing straight oxygen." He came to the conclusion that I was just a crazy person, and pumped my IV up with Adavan, to calm my anxiety. It worked pretty quickly. We sat there and watched Bruce Almighty, and even a few episodes of Friends until the time was up. The room de-pressurized and the doors were opened.

 Then we went back to my room. Jaymeson was treated as an Outpatient, but he of course stayed in the hospital with me. I was hooked up to constant baby monitors and an IV. After the first treatment, the baby's heart rate livened up quite a bit, although I still hadn't felt him moving. We had dinner and had a few visitors and finally got to sleep around 1 in the morning. I was woken up several times in the night by the nurses because the baby monitor wasn't picking up anything. It was so frustrating! I think one of my nurses got so annoyed with having to come in so often, that she hooked the monitor up so tight that when I took it off in the morning, there was a huge crater in my belly.

They had us in separate Hyperbaric Chambers for our last 2 treatments. Jaymeson had to be up at 5:30 AM to go to his, and then mine was right after. This time, we were in individual chambers, which I thought would be way worse. But it actually wasn't. They gave me a small dose of Adavan, just in case I got crazy again, and we got to again, watch a movie. 

We had a short break, where we got to visit a little bit with Jayah (Weirdly enough, her mom was a few doors down having a baby while we were getting our treatments.) We ate lunch, and then Jaymeson was off to his next treatment. I took a nap, and then went to mine right after. When we were done, they did Neurological tests on both of us and more blood tests, and we were released. They talked about how there was a possibility of relapse, which would include memory loss, slurred words, etc, but there was no way to tell if that would happen to us or not. We were informed that we would have long term fatigue, and would feel hotter than normal, (Great, just what I needed at 36 weeks pregnant.) and that we would be more susceptible to carbon monoxide poisoning in the future. They also said the baby could possibly have Neurological damage, but there was no way to know until he was born.

 We went to dinner with Jaymeson's mom, picked up Jayah for the night, and hung out at his mom's house until we were all too exhausted to do anything else. We both had the next day off of work, because I had a follow up appointment or two for the baby. We mostly just relaxed and spent some time together, reliving the craziness of the weekend. Sometimes, I still can't believe it even happened!

We had a follow up appointment 2 weeks after the incident with the Hyperbaric people, and I had doctor's appointments every other day doing stress testing on the baby. I was low on amniotic fluid after the incident because the baby wasn't getting any oxygen from me during the whole ordeal. Any oxygen he had, he was storing in his brain and heart, and not sending any to his kidneys, so he stopped creating amniotic fluid. Normal levels are between 8 and 24 and they struggle to find 5-7 each time. 

His heart rate looked fine mostly, but they considered having to induce me because they thought that out of my belly may have been safer than in my belly at that point. Although, that was just an assumption. I heard from every nurse and doctor that they really didn't know what to do with me because I was in "uncharted territories". They had never known of a situation like mine, being pregnant and poisoned by carbon monoxide. They encouraged me to lay down as much as possible and drink 3 liters of water a day to see if that will help. Luckily (or unluckily) I lost my job with JetBlue because I was hospitalized during training, so I was not working 7:00 AM-9:00 PM every day. I did continue to work full time with the law firm though... that is until I went in to early labor. But that is a story for another post. :)

We both are still in such disbelief of the whole situation. You hear about things like this happening, but never think it could happen to you or someone you know. Several of the Hyperbaric doctors told us that most people who are exposed to carbon monoxide never get treated and end up with neurological damage down the road. Sometimes they are even exposed in their sleep and never end up waking up. They told us several stories of people who carry portable CO detectors with them and have found themselves in places, such as restaurants, hotel rooms, even outdoors, with high levels if CO in the air. Needless to say, next time we've got a little extra money (you know, after the several thousand dollars of medical bills we all have now...) we will be purchasing a portable CO detector for every member of our little family. Just to be safe. 

I've received reports back from the fire department and the gas company, and found that just about every boiler in the building had something wrong with it, including broken pipes, unsealed doors, and recalled parts. The building was evacuated for inspections and testing, and carbon monoxide levels near our room were over 4000 ppm! Reports also showed that other people were treated in the hospital, but we were the only ones with high enough levels to need Hyperbaric treatment. 

And that is the story of how our unborn baby saved our lives. Although he will never understand what he did, we are forever grateful to him. If I had felt him moving, we would not have gone to the hospital that day. We would have gone home and waited out our weird sickness and possibly had some severe neurological damage because of it. Not only did he save our lives, but he saved the lives of every one in the building. If we had not gone to the hospital, the fire department may have never been called and the building may have never been evacuated, and a lot of people could have suffered worse poisoning than ours or even death. When I think about that, I get chills. So many people could have died that day. It's so scary. 

We still do not know if or what kind of neurological damage Tatum may have, but I am hopeful that he is just fine. He is a lively, happy baby, and looks and seems absolutely perfect. Only time will tell, but I think our little one will be blessed and will be just fine. :)

We love you baby boy!