I had woken up at around noon on September 9th, 2021 and was feeling pretty fatigued. Since I was feeling weirder than usual, I recorded my blood pressure just to see if it’d change over time. 3:16 p.m. 103/74.

As per my usual daily routines, I’d spend the day in bed. I began feeling more lightheaded after returning to my bed from the restroom. I checked my blood pressure (in the same position as the previous time; sitting up), and it had dropped- 4:29 p.m. 93/65.

I tried to ignore it and continued resting in bed. When my dad had finished his zoom meetings, we had our usual conversations discussing the different jobs in technical theatre.

As I talked with my dad, I slowly began forgetting what we were talking about mid-sentence and my dad would have to explain to me each time I forgot.

It was around 5 p.m. and I had gotten to a point where I couldn’t focus or remember what I was talking about or what I was doing.

We checked my blood pressure again- 89/56.

As someone with a heart rate this whole time being in the high 90s and low 100s, this blood pressure was quite abnormal for me and was making me highly symptomatic.

Since the “brain fog” was getting worse and the fatigue was making it difficult to move, I called my medical team to determine what to do.

They informed us that I needed to go to the emergency department since I could have a line infection.

So yet again for the third time that summer, my dad called 911.

The ED was busy, so we were in a semiprivate room (the same room I had been in before when I had gone when I had chest pain a week prior) and there were lots of doctors and nurses rushing in and out. The room was separated by a curtain that had a patient with their family on the other side. Also, since it was semi private, it had no doors, only a large curtain.

I had a couple of training nurses come in to take blood for blood cultures to test for possible line infections. They informed me the culture couldn’t be taken from my central line lumen and had to be done from my arm.

This is when so much began happening all at once.

As they inserted the needle to draw blood, the case doctor came in to ask me about my symptoms. As I continued to answer, another nurse entered the room and did one of those deep nose COVID test swabs. I had never gotten one before but luckily it wasn’t bad since I had so many distractions going on at once.

The blood nurses were almost finished when one of them turned away holding the blood tube and accidentally pulled out the IV they were using to draw blood. I tapped them on the shoulder and said they had pulled it out.

Then the funniest thing happened- blood started squirting everywhere.

It was so funny to me because it just looked like something you’d see in the movies- it looked so fake. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but it gets everywhere. The doctor and the nurses were frantically trying to take out the rest of the IV to stop the bleeding. Then they tried their best to clean the blood off the sheets, floor, my gown, etc.

After everyone left the room, things were much calmer.

As hours continued to pass, my blood pressure got to more normal levels and I was no longer symptomatic. My dad and I were both expecting that I would be discharged soon.

Since we were waiting for many hours, I needed to use the restroom to pee after all the liquids I had between my TPN (which had been stopped when I arrived) and the IV fluids they started when I got there. I couldn’t stand for even 30 seconds so we knew I wouldn’t be able to make it to the bathroom. So, I was given the only option I could do at the time (because I refused a bedpan) which was a commode.

So, there I was in the most awkward situation- my dad in the hallway “guarding the curtain” for me while I was trying to use the restroom in a bedside commode with a thin curtain separating me and the patient next to me. Two things caught my attention at that time that I had not thought about: 1) I was not given toilet paper and had to reach for paper towels, 2) curtains aren’t soundproof.

Needless to say, this scenario made it difficult to pee.

After all the restroom business was over with, my dad and I were nonchalantly informed by the case doctor that I would need to be transferred as an inpatient while we awaited my blood cultures.

My dad and I were both shocked since we had no idea that I needed to be admitted and thought it was ironic how easy this time was to be admitted vs. in August when I had almost died…

Anyways, we were told that the blood cultures could take 1-2 days to hear back from so they were going to transfer me to the GI ward.

Since it was so late in the evening, my dad went home while I waited to be transferred to the inpatient room.

It was then that I was informed that this time I would be admitted to the pediatric GI inpatient ward. I arrived at my room at around midnight that night.

Everything about the pediatric ward was very uplifting and comfortable- definitely a change from the adult ward.

And just to add the cherry on top of being “welcomed back” to the GI department, I got a heparin shot to the stomach. Aghhhh, I hate those.

I met my night nurses and CCTs and was told I needed to be disconnected from my TPN (in case there was a line infection). However, I was told I wouldn’t get any nutrition until we determined if it was an infection or not (which made me symptomatic).

The next day, the routine felt all too familiar; woke up, doctors came in for rounds (I had some of the same doctors as when I was an inpatient the first time), medications, and another heparin shot the stomach. My dad would arrive for visiting hours starting at 10 a.m.

At around 1 p.m. we were told that I could be given TPN later because my cultures came back and I did not have a line infection. When my nurse was flushing my lines they were both clogged. It was because we didn’t have flushes with us when we were in the ED. I was then given the best advice from my nurse that I still use today- “you have to advocate for yourself when it comes to your central line. Central lines are common in the ICU but not really anywhere else. Chances are everyone in the ED isn’t going to know how to handle it so don’t be afraid to speak up and handle the lines yourself, so they don’t mess it up and get them clogged.”

About an hour later my dad and I were seen by the same doctor who gave us a hard time about the wheelchair during the last discharge. They came to the room to say that they weren’t sure why I was at the hospital and that I seemed fine so I should be discharged. My dad and I got annoyed since it wasn’t our decision to be admitted and didn’t know that I was going to be. Since we were getting a large feeling that we weren’t welcome anymore, we asked to be discharged- and yes, WITH a wheelchair this time.

Before being discharged we also asked for another referral to get the gastric emptying study since we had called numerous days in a row and 2 weeks had passed since it was supposed to be done.

I was discharged at 4 p.m. later that day and couldn’t wait to be reconnected to my new bag of TPN and actually get nutrition (after being off of it since the previous day).

I was now home, back in my bed and ready to stay out of the hospital.