One dose, one pill, and our world changed forever. My husband had been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in the spring of 2016. Before all this started he had been diagnosed with degenerative disc disease (DDD) and had seven bulging discs in his spine. He has bilateral foraminal stenosis, which is a fancy way of saying he has bone spurs growing inside his spinal column. And he had also damaged his brachial plexus nerve pack in his shoulder a few years previously. He had been a plumber for three decades and not very kind to his body, so these injuries weren't super surprising.
So, combine those with the nerve pain and other issues that come with fibromyalgia, and he was a man in need of some relief. His rheumatologist prescribed Pregabalin (name brand Lyrica). It was the go to fibromyalgia drug at the time. It has helped many patients over the years. We hoped it would help him. But, like all drugs, there is no one size fits all. He saw the rheumatologist on Wednesday, picked up the medication on Thursday, and waited until Friday evening to take his first dose because I would be home and could monitor him.
It's a good thing he did. When he awoke the next morning, he got out of bed and tried to walk to our living room. There is a short hallway between our bedroom and the living room. I was walking behind him and he began bouncing off the walls like a pinball in a machine, and could not keep himself upright and steady. I finally managed to manhandle him to the chair in the living room and he was having trouble with his vision and answering questions. I called the on-call service for Dr. H. It was a Saturday, he was not on call. As I waited an excruciating two minutes for a return call he began slurring his words.
The phone rang, "Hello?" "Mrs. Kennedy? This is Dr H." Yeah, he's that kind of doctor. He wants to take care of his patients personally. We are so grateful to him. He directed me to get him to an emergency department for a CT scan as soon as possible. Off to work we go. You see, I broke my rule, we went to work on my day off.
You may be wondering why I did not call an ambulance. I know from experience it takes a fire truck 8 minutes to get to my house. It takes an ambulance 12-14 minutes to arrive. I had him inside the ER in 18 minutes. It was a Saturday morning and no major events were happening in downtown Nashville that day. I was pretty confident I could get him there expeditiously. Plus, stubborn ass that he is, he was insisting he did not need to go and he would nap and be fine. He finally agreed he should go if I would take him. So off we went.
What followed was a weekend of tests and talks and worry and a three and a half hour CT scan that I hope no one ever has to experience without anesthesia. Major stroke was ruled out but he was diagnosed with having had a transient ischemic attack (TIA) or ministroke. Ironically, except for the triple digit top and bottom blood pressure readings they were fairly happy with all his other test results. Rest and recuperation was prescribed. And to never, ever, ever take Pregabalin again. Or anything in that family.
Overall, he recovered. I had no idea what would happen that day. I thought I might lose him. And I didn't know what in the world I would do with my life if I did. It is popular often to say you don't need a man or you can be independent. And I can. I have been before. I could figure it out again. But you see, he is my husband. We have built a life together. Were something to happen to him I would be anchorless in this life we have. Being alone and adrift without your strength and stay is terrifying. Plus, I really kinda like the guy. So, all that to say, I am grateful he is still here. I am also grateful he has only had one other TIA, but that is a story for another day.
If you have ever sat in a hospital waiting area in a sad puddle of uncertainty, I just wanna give you a hug. It is something I would not wish on anyone. My hope for you is it never, ever, ever happens again.
I carry his hospital bracelet with me every day. It reminds me how thankful I am for him and his continued presence in my life. Do you keep something with you like this for tangible reminders? Tell me about them!
Be well, y'all.
***None of the above information is to be used in lieu of a medical professional's evaluation and diagnosis. All information here is a reflection of my own knowledge and experiences.***