For the last few months I have had a chronic cough which had been progressively worsening until it got to the point where talking, standing up, any exertion at all, would cause me to start coughing which would go on for what seemed like forever. Other times I would just start coughing for no apparent reason. A couple of weeks ago I began to notice blood in my phlegm. I also found breathing difficult and was experiencing fevers and chills. Me being me, I did nothing about it.
On Saturday, July 30 my son Michael showed up at my apartment with orders from his sister Lisa, not to leave until I agreed to go to the hospital. After about an hour's coaxing, I agreed to go to emergency at Victoria Hospital.
Not long after our arrival (it was a slow day) I was told that I would be admitted due to my lung problems. I'll spare you the details but it turns out I had sepsis and by Monday they had figured out which antibiotic I would be on. My PICC line, the suspected source of the sepsis, was taken out, covered in puss, and a new temporary line was placed in my neck so that I could restart my TPN, finally.
I also may have had a touch of pneumonia but due to everything else going on the evidence was inconclusive. My cough began to show signs of improvement after I'd received several shots of Lasix to get rid of the fluid on my lungs. All in all it was quite a ride and I arrived home August 6.
I saw my rheumatologist this past Friday who scolded me for not going in to the hospital sooner and informed my that I ..."could have died." She also said that my lungs have deteriorated in the past 6 months due to the scleroderma but that we will wait a bit before taking any further action to make sure my recent conditions are entirely cleared up.
So, thanks to my kids for insisting I go to hospital. You may have saved my life.