TTP

Thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura

The fall of 2007 was a difficult one for me.  I was being faced with situations at work that were new and devastating.  I was teaching 3rd grade again after 4 years.  I had a new curriculum, a new administration and new colleagues.  The last time I had taught 3rd grade I had 15-18 students.  Now I had 30.  Seven or eight of those students had planned to be in a different room and had been moved to mine at the last minute (the first day of school).  Their parents were not happy.  Nothing I did met with their approval and my administration, not knowing me, didn’t quite know whom to believe at first.

By Thanksgiving these parents had organized and were meeting.  Someone sent me a copy of their email correspondence.  Some parents were calling for my dismissal.  Others were just angry and venting about everything they thought I was doing wrong.

I was spent.  I had worked so many weeks, so many extra hours on the weekends, and I couldn’t make a positive connection.  By this time my administration was wise to the situation and when I asked to take two extra days off before Thanksgiving break she agreed.

I taught on Monday.  I had only found out about the meetings and emails on Thursday and I wasn’t going to disappear that easily.  Tuesday I got out of bed thinking we would leave for Michigan to see Matt’s family but he had to stay in town one more day for some reason.  I think the girls even went to school.  As the day progressed I became thankful that I had not gone to school because I wasn’t feeling good anyway.  I thought it was my monthly visit from Aunt Flow.

Wednesday we did leave for Thanksgiving break.  I felt pretty bad by then.  I spent most of the car ride up reclined in my chair with my eyes closed.  I was nauseous, cramping and had a headache.  I had started to spot so I thought this was period related.

I spent Thanksgiving on Rolly and Darla’s couch watching football – which tells you how really sick I felt.  I couldn’t eat hardly anything.  *side note* It is torture to see all this wonderful food spread out before you and not be able to eat.*  My urine was also orange.  But I thought again, I was having a bad period and I wasn’t drinking enough water.  I was also flowing very heavily by this time.

Friday, when Matt and the girls went to see his cousins, I didn’t get out of bed.  I don’t remember when the headaches started but I had them on Friday for sure.  I was taking ibuprofen like crazy but my nausea, cramps and headache continued.  My urine also was darker.  That evening, Matt went to see a friend.  While he was away I collapsed on my mother-in-law’s floor.  By this time my urine was tomato soup red.  She called Matt who came home right away.  He and Nikki, our friend who is a naturopath, decided to take me to the ER.

We waited for a short time in the ER (I know, what a miracle).  When the woman called me over to talk to me my speech became slurred and I started talking nonsense.  I knew what I wanted to say and I knew that what I was saying didn’t make sense but I couldn’t correct it.

I was put in an ER room.  I only remember bits and pieces from that weekend.  I was out of it most of the time.  I do remember Matt trying to get me on the commode but I don’t remember throwing up on him or spewing blood out the other end.  I remember meeting some doctors.  I remember getting the vas cath in my right shoulder, being wheeled around on a gurney and being in a room.  I don’t remember being moved in and out of ICU a couple of times.  I do remember doctors coming in and giving us reports that were not really that good but at least I was holding somewhat steady.  I don’t remember crashing.  I don’t’ remember the following two weeks.

My next memory is a dream.  I don’t remember the whole dream.  But what I do remember has come to mean a great deal to me.  I was standing on some steps.  The building was to my right, the road to my left.  The road was old cobblestone and waiting at the bottom of the steps was a black stagecoach.  I was aware that I could get on it and leave.  Standing in front of me was a man I knew to be Matt, though he didn’t look like him.  He held out his arms to me.

Then my dream changed.  I was in an airport terminal.  There was a plane outside that I could board.  Matt was holding me.

I suddenly had a moment of lucidity.  The yearning from my dreams tore out of me and I cried out to God, “Please don’t let me die.  I want to live my life with Matt.  I want to watch Katy and Kenzlee grow up.  Please don’t let me die.”

And then it was dark again.

I remember waking up.  And feeling like I had just taken a nap.  Finding out that it had been two weeks was such a surreal feeling.

I recovered pretty steadily after that and was out of the hospital in another week and half or so.  I have had no lasting medical problems.