Watershed

Just before Christmas (in fact I think 2 days) I was run in for another MRI. They gave me an IV that shot fluid into my uterus to make its anatomy clearer. You see, I had made the terrible bad decision to run up the stairs one evening. Yes,... that was all, I just ran up the stairs. It triggered muscle cramping so bad I was on the maximum level of Perocet to even take the edge off. I spent the night with a cod liver oil compress on my abdomen, cramping in front of my fireplace. I felt like I was in labor. With the 10lber... It was insane. I screamed at the universe. I demanded my life back. My hair, which was falling out just as it had when I lactating, I demanded back. I demanded my daughter be delivered from watching this horrifying pain, a pain that she would identify with like no one else.

Now, let me explain that Christmas Eve is a big deal for Italians. FOOD FOOD and more FOOD and as my family was all chosen where I was living, my house had become the traditional Christmas Eve stop. I refused to let this get in my way. Doc called the morning of Christmas Eve. It wasn't growing, was shrinking, no blood flow. Hang in there and if I could make it through the holidays we would trouble shoot. I was relieved that at least we had some idea what was going on. But I went on a liquid diet, and returned to it whenever the bleeding got bad. It helped. Pressure from my bowel seemed to be a trigger. So I fasted through Christmas Eve and evry bleeding day after that.

I made it through the holidays. But somewhere along there in the bleak midwinter my body decided that it had lost its patience.

I was sitting on the sofa talking to hiking/clot-naming friend who had moved to Alaska just after my embo. I was feeling a little light headed, but was happily chatting. Kids were getting in from school and we were hollering back and forth about what Alaska was like. Suddenly, the worm turned. I had no idea what was happening, but I new it was inevitable and profound. I told her, and she was mid sentence (that's how suddenly it came on) I had to go I was feeling funky. Just hung up. She was petrified she told me later because by the time I called her back it was over.

I put my head between my legs and told my son that if I passed out to call 911.


He one-upped me. Before I had time to pass out, he was troubleshooting. He called his Dad, who was out of town and told him what was going on. He gave him the number of my OB/GYN and asked his father to call them. He then took his little sister by the hand and took her to a friends down the street. He wanted her to be with people she would be able to be either scared or happy with. He then went further down the street to a friend of mine, to ask her to go to the house and help me. Only her adult son was home, but he came down to help. My kid then went to another house and got another adult to assist. He managed this all in minutes. Then he got on the phone with his dad, as the adults checked on me. My heroic 13 year old.

I began to feel less crazy in the head. And that is how it was -- though my head was between my knees I was still in a spin. I couldn't stop it, like a drunk frat boy. It lifted a bit and I made my way into the bathroom.

I can not describe exactly what it was, but it was as if I could feel it peeling itself away from the inside of my uterus. A huge, gelatinous clot. It looked, seriousy, like I had delivered my own liver. And the one long steady cramp that had started while my head hung between my knees, vanished.

I spent the weekend on a maintenance level of Percocet. I managed to get to the premiere of an independent film I had worked on Saturday night -- wearing a depends and a very long sweater. I was hanging in there. Until Sunday....