Around 9:30 I called my insurance company to check on the status of my IVIG request. After being transferred a few times they told me that the request was made on Wednesday (not Tuesday end of day as I had thought) and it takes 2-3 business days to process and approve (Thursday, Friday, Monday). She said to call back Monday and check on the status of the request, but my guess is that the insurance company will approve it Monday and tell the doctor who will then call me asking to start on Tuesday. It’s actually better that I get a full day’s work in on Monday anyways.
At 10:30 I got a haircut. I hadn’t had one since October!
I chopped my hair to shoulder length (a little past) and then went to lunch at Panera with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law. After lunch we walked from Panera to the mall entrance and my heart started fluttering. The pulse oximeter read 155+. It scared the hell out of me. Once I finally calmed down, we went into the mall to shop for a couple of hours. After being in there an hour or so I started to get very sweaty and overheated. Sweat was literally pouring off of me and running into my eyes. I sat down in front of a fan in the changing room for ten minutes and drank some water. Finally, my pulse returned to normal and I was able to continue shopping.
When I went to go to bed tonight, my husband’s heart was fluttering and he was having chest pains and vomiting so I took him to the ER in Milford. Luckily, everything looked normal and after a bag of IV fluids he was feeling better. The nurse and I spent most of the time talking about my condition instead. I keep forgetting the rarity and severity of my illness until I start describing it. Doctors and nurses seem fascinated by my condition, which I am not sure how to interpret. I talk about my treatment and diagnosis so casually and openly. It’s hard to know if I still haven’t really absorbed any of it or if I’m being optimistic for the first time in my life. Regardless, I am glad my husband is okay. After the month I’ve been having, it was nice to not be the one in the hospital bed.