Well, I wouldn't normally be posting frequently as I have been except for the fact that there are always anomalies in the universe, or events that would logically be the catalyst for me sitting here and typing about it. Right now is something that I post about every year on or around the anniversary of a special time for me, which conveniently is today.
It's been seven years today.
I can't even hardly say it, it's so astounding to me- both that it's been so long and yet, not that long ago. I've blogged about it
here and
here, but in case you are not one of those people to click links, I'll tell you a bit.
Seven years ago I was so sick and dehydrated that my amazing doctor couldn't get a blood pressure from me. A half hour later at Utah Valley Hospital, the nurses were changing shifts and trying to find ANY vein to get an IV in. One finally got in my left hand, but unfortunately (but actually, fortunately) I wasn't having a diabetic reaction, so the insulin they gave me wasn't that good. The line in my right arm got pulled out by accident when the nurse's glove got taped down and she turned to get something. She almost cried.
I remember getting in a wheelchair, and into a bed. Suddenly I remember being in another room, a bigger one right next to the nurse's station. A higher intensive care room. I remember chest pain, or, at least, that's what I remember from what my mom tells me. Results from a heart monitor showed something similar to a heart attack, which the cardiologist who
happened to be there at 10:00 that night (on the one night a week she went to UVRMC) was able to diagnose and order the Life Flight team to take me to Primary Children's Medical Center in Salt Lake. All I could think was, "If this is my appendix like someone said 10 minutes ago, why can't they take it out here? Heart Buddy (my best friend growing up) had to be life flighted, too, for her heart..." I can't even begin to imagine the devastating horror my parents must have been experiencing at this time, watching 15 doctors and nurses rush in and out of my room, tension rising by the second with each new failure we encountered.
That ride was by far the loudest and most painful ride I have yet encountered in my life. But, another small miracle; the medicine I was given to make me sleep didn't take effect until after I had been in the Emergency Room in Salt Lake. Normally out after 10-15 seconds, I lasted for about 15 minutes, a miracle we were told by the Life Flight nurse kept me alive. I am forever indebted to her and the rest of the incredible (though incredible is not quite appropriate enough a word) individuals who worked with everything they had to keep me alive. And I don't even know her name to thank her.
Cardiac arrest is an interesting phenomenon. Though in itself it is relatively painless, the events leading up and following were excruciating. I awoke several times to doctors shouting my name, and an electrifying, screaming bolt of electricity would course through my body making it jump several inches off the table. I would start running through the routine that they'd know I knew who I was still; "My name is Jenna King, I am 13 years old, I go to Dixon Middle School, my parents are Carson and...Susan..King, I-" and then my heart would stop again. Sometimes when I woke up I would feel bad for causing so much trouble, and an "I'm sorry" would whimper out. But mostly I said it hoping they'd get the hint. I just wanted someone to say they were sorry for me.
Eventually unconsciousness took over and the next few days on life support are a blur to me, thanks to the medication. Time was irrelevant, painfully long and yet preciously short as results would come back progressively worse with each one. A ventilator took over breathing, since I wasn't doing it on my own. A pacemaker so they didn't have to have to use the defibrillator would shock my heart every time it would stop (scar on my neck). What felt like millions of lines and devices plugged all over my body, and daily X-rays to show that my heart was twice the size it should have been. Echocardiograms, EKG's, tests, saline, suction, imminent surgeries, worry.....and about a 10-17% estimated chance of surviving through one more night.
Then comes the time where you have done literally everything you can do, you have worked your hardest, tried all of your options, and you reach the end of your line, and have to sink down with your head in your hands, and painfully, tearfully admit that you cannot do anything else, and your best has not been sufficient. In that moment, you are the blessed individual to experience the Atonement in your life as Heavenly Father steps in and figuratively parts the Red Sea - does the impossible. He held my life in suspense, hovering just barely above the "line" where I would have to have surgery, or wouldn't make it. Then, through the faith and prayers and fasting and tears of so many individuals, and His miraculous love and mercy, He blessed and allowed me to get better.
13 days after I entered, I was wheeled out of Primary Children's with astounding progress. True, my heart was still swollen and leaking badly, my arms were bruised green and purple and red all up and down from the IV's, I was 5'8" (current height) and weighed 122 lbs, I couldn't walk far without needing a rest, but I was alive. This trial that came to me and influenced myself and my family in the form of a virus called Myocarditis has shaped me and given me direction and a duty to become who I am today. I suppose with this amazing experience that happened to me, I pledged my life to be someone who did things for other people and gave of myself not just because it was a good thing to do, but it was the right thing for me to do. Sort of like a mission or calling or contract I have, to do and be an agent in the Lord's hands. The conditions to continue living required I hand my plans over to the Lord and continue with His approvals, and make changes as He makes notes in my "Life Planner". It has resulted in a major change (haha) - from Music Ed, though helpful and satisfying I'm sure it could have been, to Family Studies at BYU. To let go of some dreams and find place for others. To learn that I loved taking care of and serving others more than anything else. To direct my focus on Him.
It's been a long road. So many things have happened and changed -of which I am grateful for- and in many ways I have grown. Too many to be named here. Also, not everyone's story turns out like mine. Sometimes we give all we can, and the Lord still says, "Not this time". Your faith might be stronger than mine. Your circumstances and needs greater, and yet, for a test of your faith, you hear "Not yet". My question for you is- can you still stand strong and resolute as if you had received a "Yes"?
This hasn't been the most detailed version of the experience I've told, but for today, I've shared what I deemed necessary. Just letting the world know that I have risen from an event seven years ago that had the great potential to stop me in my tracks. But of course, I'm stubborn and strong willed, but most of all extremely blessed. Now I just hope that with this, I'm doing what I should be. It's been seven years, and a great journey, for sure, filled with light, learning, laughter, love, music, joy, pain, sorrow, disappointment, happiness, gratitude, and more. I'm glad He's in charge.
Love, Me.
Ps. School's started this week. I'm a Junior. Homework's crazy. But hopefully, it'll be good.
Yeah, it will be. :)
