Nothing to See… Again.

The results of my last blood test are back, and though I didn’t get to talk to Dr.Blake, the nurse I spoke with read me this note:

“Test normal, no anemia, continue with GI doctor as advised.”

The point of this test, I thought, was to determine if I was short some of that glorious red stuff. (Well, blue, whatever.) I’m not sure that was answered. However I have learned this:

1. A positive tilt test of >30bpm (Orthostatic pressure change from sitting to standing, given at least one minute) would put me in Class II*, 15-30% blood loss. Class II, among other characteristics, invokes a mental state listed as “agitated.” Which is about right.

2. Hypovolemia may be clinically silent until blood volume loss exceeds 30% of blood volume.

So, as you can see, I am starting to sound like a doctor. An agitated doctor. Colonoscopy in about two weeks. I hope they find something valuable.

I’d like to be able to travel for Christmas.

*American College of Surgeons – Categories of Acute Blood Loss

Blood, Guts, and Graphics

Doctor’s again yesterday. A year ago, these hours spent sitting on paper lined examination tables seemed to drag on tortuously. Now I hardly blink. This appointment was short. Out and home again in three hours. I feel almost hurried, and I need to sit a bit.

Dr. Blake reminds me of my childhood hero, Amy, the bright navy pilot who as a child sat on my father’s shoulders and said she’d marry him someday. Despite my frustration with and general distrust of the medical community, I like her. She listens. She gets this funny look on her face when she discovers something. She’s not giving up on me yet.

Today I am here to talk about logistics. First it was Seattle, and then it was “no, not Seattle,” and then I had a consultation with the old school doc in the valley, whose nurse told me to call back to the clinic and see about getting state support. You don’t want to pay for this on your own, sweetie. I know. I called the clinic. “You’re supposed to go to Seattle,” they say. I give the phone a look of disgust. It tells me to make an appointment. I’m beginning to hate my guts.

Doctor Blake looks at me like I’m worried over nothing.
“You got an appointment, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Then, go. I just want you to get this done. You’ve got an appointment in less then two weeks. That’s great.”
I sigh. I like her. I might just name my firstborn son after her. Or a goldfish, at least.

She asks if I’m still dizzy. I am. We could do the tests over again, if I want. There are two things the doctors are required to ask me during every visit: if I’d like the tests repeated and if I am pregnant. Dr. Blake is very smart. The first time we met I told her about my last doctor, whose repeated diagnosis was “maybe you’re pregnant,” to which I insisted I was not, and to which he replied, “how do you know?” Dr. Blake is smart. She never once asked that question – she simply handed me a cup and told me to fill it up, and we moved on.

Our conversations are simple now. She leaves the rulebook at the door, and we talk:

“That was in September, almost a month ago now, that we tested. But that’s a good test. We can do it again, it’s up to you, it’s your blood.”
“Not if you don’t think it’s necessary.”
“No. Let me just take your blood pressure then and…”
Her face lights up.
“…no I’ll just take your pulse that’s better but wait I’ll get my cool laser thing.”
She doesn’t really say “cool laser thing” but she might as well. Technically, it’s a pulse oximeter. She has a whole bunch of these high-tech devices that she keeps in her office, and she’s a geek about them. I mean that in a very approving way. And the cool laser thing really is cool.
Dr. Blake takes my pulse sitting down. She looks serious and thrilled at the same time. I think she’s seriously worried about me, and she’s thrilled with her cool laser thing. She tells me to stand up and takes my pulse again. She watches the machine for a while. “Breathe,” she tells me. I stare at the wall and wait. I try to pretend I’m not fascinated by the laser show going on around my index finger. I’m wondering why I’m standing on this little ten inch step. We both know I’m bound to fall off.

“You’re giving me some blood.”
Dr. Blake is scribbling numbers on the exam table paper.
“That’s positive, thirty plus beat difference, that’s way positive, you’re giving me blood.”
My blood pressure sitting is around 70bm. Standing it shoots to 100-105.
“It should be ten max,” she says. “Maybe ten. But you’re either definitely anemic, which the test last month said you weren’t, or you’re down a quart of blood.”
That would explain why my legs have fallen asleep sitting here and won’t wake up. I want to join them. I’m tired.

To figure out if I’m low on blood, they take some more. Dr. Blake says she’ll call by Saturday afternoon with the results. I don’t know what difference it will make, but I know the procedure: test until you find something.

Another doctor visit down. More blood in to the labs. That means more bills coming.

I go back to designing graphics and trying to learn the tricks of Macromedia. Style sheets and flash code aren’t as exciting as lasers, but I’ve had enough of that for one day. I’m getting better at this program. Not surprising really. That’s what I do on the days when I’m not visiting Dr. Blake.

More changes…

I’ve updated the look and feel of the site a bit. I hope you enjoy the new look, and as always, send any suggestions and thoughts my way.

Change of Plans

After talking back and forth with my doctor here, one of the nurses informed me that “everyone” had decided it would be best to change the plans a bit and check out on of the local GI doctors instead of going all the way to Seattle. I think they were not so keen on the idea of me traveling.
I met with a GI doctor here earlier this week for a consultation. I have a colonoscopy tentitively planned for November 14, just waiting for the GI doctor’s office to confirm openings with the hospital.
If I had to give that office one word it would be “oldschool” – they seemed a bit confused when I handed them a debit card, and informed me that they “can’t use those things.” The doctor referred to my work in computers as “building circuit boards and such.” I remain confident that colons and large intestines look the same today as they did in 1980, and I’m pretty sure this doctor has a lot of experience.
The nurse there made me laugh as well. In the middle of the normal drill, she put her hand on my knee and informed me that it was all going to be ok. “Breath, honey, you look terribly nervous.” I tried informing her that I shake like that most of the time, but she just went on telling me that I was going to be alright. I smiled for her, which seemed to work.
My friend Rob, who has a high-definition video production business (for which I am currently building a flash website) jokingly asked if he could tape my colonoscopy in HD. If he pays for it I’m all game!
So, all laughs aside, I do covet your prayers. It’s not easy dealing with this, but I know that God is in control and I am trying to trust fully in Him. Eric, who has been my constant encouragment (as well keeping tabs on my eating and sleeping habits), is on a school trip in Europe for the next week and a half. I’d appreciate your prayers for him as well, that God would bless his time in Europe and bring him home safely.

In His grace,
Jess

Next Step: Seattle

It’s been a long week. One of the meds I was on was an anticholinergic, which prevents spasms in the muscles of the gut and bladder by relaxing them and reduces the amount of stomach acid produced. Unfortunatly all it did for me was give me migranes and nightmares, so I’m off of that and on Excedrin while the migranes still linger. The next step is to see a GastroIntestinal doctor. There are no GI docs in my doctor’s practice group, and due to my age and condition, they’ve recommended I go to Seattle to the University Hospital where I can receive the best care available. I really have no clue how I’m going to get out to Seattle, and I’m not really looking forward to a six hour drive. I’d appreciate your prayers for that, and I’ll keep you updated. – Jess

Doctors: take 2.

Just wanted to leave a quick update, not feeling so well today and can’t seem to focus enough to see just one screen instead of two, so I will be brief. I returned to the doctors on Thursday, having shown no improvements. My test results all came back negative, leaving the doctor a bit confused.
They expected me to test positive for anemia, as other symptoms and tests show that I seem to be losing blood somewhere, but I tested negative. I also tested “as close to positive as possible without being positive” for stomach ulcers / intestinal bleeding. They had a mini conference on me, deciding to up my meds to some stronger stuff usually given for the treatment of stomach ulcers. They’re not convinced it’ll do the trick, and so far, neither am I.
The meds come with warning of side affects such as dizzyness and headaches, which I was already struggling with and are now worse. It’s hard to go from having excellent balance to getting dizzy just sitting still. Thankfully, I have been able to laugh at myself a lot; falling over when I try to put my shoes on, trying to play ping pong and find the ball…
I’m having trouble sleeping, which may be both pain and drug related, but I’m well taken care of and able to spend my days relaxing. I’m bad at that – I want to be out and working and doing things again, but I’m thankful for the incredible hospitality of the Bedfords.
Thanks for your prayers and support, they keep me going even it’s a struggle to see the positive.

Updates & Decisions

It’s been a long few days in the states, and the time has come to make some tough decisions. In January of 2006, while working at Best Buy, I began to consider serving overseas. It had been a while since I’d been involved in third-world missions first hand. At the request of friends in a remote jungle location, I started planning a technology based missions trip. My goal was to bring technological support and training to locations around the world.

On September 5, after eight months of planning and emailing; with five thousand dollars worth of plane tickets, and carrying thirty-two pounds of tech supplies, I boarded a plane from Los Angeles to Sydney, Australia. It was after a few days of acclimation in Sydney and during the overnight bus ride to Brisbane that I noticed something wasn’t right. Days later, I arrived back in the states; confused, frustrated, and hurting.

All personal humiliation aside, I’d like to be able to tell you what exactly went wrong, and what’s going on now, and when I’ll “get better” – but I don’t know. I have a mess of tests in at the labs right now, and I’m due back at the doctors late this week. Although some of my original symptoms have faded (including spitting up blood and a swollen chest), I am still very weak and often dizzy. I have a considerable amount of chest and abdominal pain which seems to come and go without reason.

It has been strongly suggested that I not return to the trip for my October and November stops in Indonesia and India, both locations being very remote and with no provision for health care in the case of any emergency. The best place for me to jump back into the trip would be with Africa in December. At this point I am not ready to return to the field, and I do not know what the next few months will bring. However, if I did return to Africa, I would need to purchase tickets and apply for visas now.

It is not for me to question the working of the Lord, and yet, He has appointed me this life, and with it, responsibility. I have decided not to return to the trip this year, but to use the time I have in recovery, along with the financial support that has been dedicated to this trip, for continued third-world ministry and technological support. Over the next few weeks and months, I will be writing an intensive curriculum and guide for computer repair and support designed especially for third world and ministry situations. With the financial support I have been given, I will prepare packages with the printed books as well as programs and tutorials on disc. As appropriate, I will include tools and software with each kit.

I don’t know why I spent eight months planning for an eight day adventure that ended in one anxious phone call and much fear and pain. I don’t understand why I’m sitting at a computer back in Washington State, but I know one thing: God has given me everything I need. I trust that He will continue to reveal his will to me and to you, as you are a part of this journey as well. Thank you for your prayers and support. In the good days and the tough days, it means the world to me. May my desires and my pain not detract from His purpose in these days.

I am thankful to be back in the states, where I can rest and receive proper care. My boyfriend, Eric, is currently at school in western Pennsylvania and it is a blessing to have his constant support as well. I’d appreciate your prayers for both of us as we face the days ahead.

Serving Christ with you,

Jessica

Emergency Home Coming

Due to health conditions, I have returned to the states on an emergency flight.

After just five days overseas, I arrived at my base in Northern Australia with a swollen chest, spitting up a bit of blood and constantly dealing with vertigo and double vision. I was asked to go to the hospital there, but told that the hospital is not very good and that they will keep you as long as possible as they are receiving foreign cash. I opted to risk the flight home, where I can rest up and get proper medical care as necessary. Outside of the possibility of having dislocated ribs, which I have done before and caused a bit of blood due to bruising, I have no clue what is wrong. The former ER tech I spoke with in Australia wanted me in for tests immediately, and the off-duty doctor that I spoke with briefly last night didn’t seem particularly worried, telling me to get some sleep and drink more water.

I am currently back in Washington state, resting up and talking with doctors. I am not sure at this point of the viability of returning to the trip at a later date. At this point, having been back just a few hours, I am in pain, nervous, and frustrated. I feel like I’ve slept for two days straight but I’m still tired and have slept most of today.

I have a lot to sort through and many details to figure out over the next few days and weeks. I will certainly not go back out without knowing what is causing these problems as well as if and how they can be prevented.

I will let you know when I have any real updates. For now, thanks for your support and prayers.

Sydney

G’day… it’s 1:30pm here in Sydney, and 11:30pm yesterday on the US East Coast, and I know this because I’m now sporting two watches. Counting back was getting too complicated! I’ve spent the last two days exploring Sydney, getting to know lots of people from all over the world, and trying to stay out of the rain. I’m leaving tonight by bus for my first stop, Tewantin, where I’ll join a team of people working for a local and worldwide organization. Cheers!

Sydney

Lots of airplane food later, I’ve arrived in rainy Sydney. It’s morning and no one’s moving yet, but customs was quick and painless so no complaints. Still trying to find some place with free wireless. For now I have 3 days stay booked at a hostel in Sydney, I’m going to try to get to Brisbane and my first stop as soon as I can.