A story that is longer, but the details are hard to believe. You’ll see God’s hands in yet another honest, real story that, for a day, felt like hell. Get your weekly dose of reading in the next few weeks because this one is another doozie. I’m not going to mention people’s names or the hospital, but if you figure it out, you figure it out.
I kept hoping things would get better with the new year, but honestly, it just felt like 2025 never ended. I promised I’d share what happened after Christmas, and I’m finally well enough to explain it all. Most of you know that last year at this time, I was diagnosed with heart failure. The year was a rollercoaster with up and down echo results and strange things happening to my body that only heart failure could be the culprit. I was on an emotional rollercoaster month after month after month.
In October, I got my ICD pacemaker and honestly thought things could only get better from here, right? Boy, was I wrong. Six weeks later, I had to undergo another emergency surgery because I had a stitch that didn’t heal, got infected, and opened up my incision. I had a pencil-sized hole in my chest. I went into this surgery not knowing if I would wake up with no ICD because if the infection got into the wires, it had to be removed, and then go through all that all over again. I just went into surgery, saying over and over again,
“God, I trust you. God, I trust you.”
Praise God, they caught the infection in time, and I was good to go again.
Or so I thought…
A week later I went to go get my staples out and my doctor wanted to leave them in for one more week. Hey, better safe than sorry, right? Another week later, I went back to the office (and two more hospital visits in between for this darn thing!) and they took out the staples. Well, less than 24 hours later, my incision opened up again for the second time!! They decided to steri-strip it and see if it could heal on its own. Especially being so close to Christmas. They did tell me there was a chance that the pacemaker would have to come out, heal, then do it all over again months later, but they wanted to give my body a fighting chance.
The week of Christmas, I walked on eggshells, petrified I’d end up in the hospital from this incision, but by the grace of God, the incision stayed closed until the day after Christmas.
Of course, it was a Friday, and no one at the electrical physician’s office was in until Monday. I chose to stay out of the ER and treat it until my scheduled Monday morning appointment with EP. I just paid close attention to my body for signs of infection.
Monday rolled around, and I still felt wonderful physically. I just had an open incision in my chest, but honestly, it was looking so much better than Friday with the steri strips I had bought. I had a good feeling about my appointment and even had pictures to show the doctor my improvement since that Friday.
Again, boy, was I wrong. My doctor, who put my pacemaker in and did my second surgery as well, was traveling for the holidays. The other doctor I was seeing told me he thought the ICD would have to come out. Shocked, I asked, “Why can’t I see a plastic surgeon first?” My cousin Jenny, who is a nurse, gave me that idea. My pacemaker nurse suggested I call my wonderful doctor for his opinion. Thankfully, he answered and strongly agreed that it would give me a fighting chance before it needs to come back out. They sent me immediately down to the ER, and that’s where hell literally began. The ER gave me the fastest way to see a plastic surgeon, but little did I know what I would have to go through to get there.
The ER was so busy that day that there were times Chris and I had nowhere to sit. They would bring you in a room, then back out to the waiting room because there were simply no rooms available to have you stay in. (I mean, I know it was Christmas time, and I wasn’t pregnant, but dang! How were no rooms available!? I felt what Mary felt all those years ago.) They saw 148 people that day. People were in the waiting room hacking, puking, and sitting with IVs in their bodies. This whole thing was nuts. For 7.5 hours, we played this in-and-out game, but I was feeling positive because even though my doctor wasn’t physically with me, he demanded to be in charge of my care from clear across the USA. (This man is just incredible.)
Anything they did had to go through him first. He had another heart doctor look at my incision, and I quote, he said, “You can’t see the pacemaker, and you have no infection, this is a wonderful sign. Let’s get you an appointment with a plastic surgeon tomorrow and get you out of here!” I was so happy. Little did I know what the ride I was about to go on would be like.
Stay tuned next week for more of the story!
Chicken Pot Pie Casserole
For the casserole:
• 3 lbs. of seasoned cooked chicken breast, shredded into large chunks
• 12 ounces dry wide pasta, cooked according to package directions
Casserole Filling:
• 6 tablespoons of butter
• 1/2 cup of flour
• 4 cups chicken stock
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 2 teaspoons salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 1/2 cups frozen peas
• 1 1/2 cups store-bought carrots, shredded
• 1 large can refrigerated crescent rolls
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Spray a 9×13-inch casserole dish with nonstick cooking spray, then set it aside. Prep your chicken, cook, shred, and set aside. Cook pasta according to the package directions. In a large skillet, melt butter. Sprinkle flour over the melted butter. Whisk the flour into the butter. Continue whisking for about 2 to 3 minutes until smooth. Whisk in half of the chicken stock slowly. Whisk until smooth again. Add remaining stock, heavy cream, salt, and pepper. Whisk until smooth, and the gravy thickens. This will take about 5-10 minutes.
Add peas, carrots, shredded chicken, and cooked pasta to the gravy. Stir to combine. Pour into the prepared casserole dish. Unroll the crescent rolls and place them on top of the chicken mixture. Press to the edges and seal the perforated seams. Brush on the 2 tablespoons of melted butter. Bake for 45 minutes or until the pastry is golden brown.
