Upon first impression,
Costochondritis seems like a non-diagnosis. It is essentially pain in the chest wall that is unexplained. It can come on suddenly, and the symptoms can be mistaken for those of a heart attack.
Wednesday night I was taken by ambulance to the hospital. I was being treated for a potential heart attack. At the time my husband called 9-1-1 I honestly thought I was going to pass out from the pain. My chest felt like it was going to crush at any moment.
A few minutes before this all happened, I was in a sound sleep. I had gone to bed at 9:00, exhausted from the day. About 10:00 I woke up to use the bathroom. As I walked down the hall I stopped to tell Daniel that I really didn't feel well. I felt kind of "strange," but I didn't really have a good description of what was wrong. I sat down, did what I needed to do, then went to stand up. One never realizes how many muscles are used in motion until we can't perform the task at hand. Such was the case as I tried to stand. The pain was too great to pull myself up. I called out to Daniel to come help me.
Daniel helped me to bed, but he was worried. He was asking me about the pain and if I should see a doctor. I finally agreed that I probably should. It felt like someone had punched me in the chest, right between my breasts. After they punched me, they tied a belt around me and kept pulling it tighter and tighter. I agreed with Daniel that we should probably go to the hospital, which is three minutes down the road by car.
My wonderful husband got underwear and pants on me, without much help from his "patient." Moving at all was just not a task I was up to. When he went to put a shirt on me, we realized that I was really in bad shape. Even with his help, the pain I felt in my chest was too much to bear. I told him to skip the shirt, and he decided then that he was going to call for an ambulance. Within a minute or so I heard the sirens on the main street outside our complex.
We live in a tiny townhouse that measures 900 square feet. I'm pretty sure our bedroom is about 12 X 12, with a full size bed, a computer desk, and an armoire. It's a tight squeeze when I'm trying to get into bed sometimes. By the time the fire fighters arrived (in our part of Arizona the paramedics are on the fire trucks and are the first responders), I was in so much pain I couldn't see much of anything. I had my eyes closed, and the tears were clouding my vision. Daniel later told me that there were, at one time, four fire fighters and two ambulance attendants. That's a lot of men in my bedroom and on my bed! I didn't know that many people could even fit in that room let alone move around to do what they needed to do.
Within minutes the fire fighters were giving me four chewable baby aspirin and a nitroglycerin tablet to dissolve under my tongue. They hooked up leads to do a portable EKG. By the time I got into the ambulance the attendants said they didn't THINK I was having a heart attack, but more tests were needed at the hospital to find out what WAS happening. The ambulance men asked me to walk out to the gurney because there wasn't enough room in the house to get the bed in. They lifted me into a standing position so my chest didn't have to do the work, and we were on our way out the door.
It took only a few minutes to get to the hospital, and on the way there I asked the man who was in back with me if my girls had woken and seen the whole event. He said they did not. He gave Daniel a great compliment. One of the best things he did, according to the guy, was to let them know there were children in the house as soon as they got there. That way they could try to be a little more sensitive to not wake them and to handle the situation if the girls did wake. Good job Daniel!
When I got to the hospital I was brought right into a room, hooked up for an EKG, and had it read immediately. The doctor said he did not believe I was having a heart attack. Their next concern was a blood clot in my lungs. They pulled some blood to run a test for that. The blood test came back negative, so they did a chest X-ray. That was clear, too. The doctor came back to exam me, and I told him that the pain was now also a bit lower as well. He checked for tenderness points, including my right side where the appendix is located, and decided that even though the blood test didn't indicate the need, he wanted to do a CT scan.
Finally, after all those tests, the doctor came back and said that I was in no immediate danger. My heart and lungs were all fine, and I could go home. His diagnosis was costocondritis, but I would need to follow up with my primary care physician. I was released at approximately 4:00 AM. Daniel got the girls in the car and came to pick me up.
I tried to sleep, but as exhausted as I was I only got about 3 hours or so before getting out of bed. I think I was too anxious to sleep. Daniel got out of bed around 11:00 and we made plans to go see my doctor. We made a trip to pick up my cap and gown for my graduation ceremony in a couple of weeks, then headed to the doctor's office.
My doctor agrees that the problem is costocondritis. I have to say, it still feels like a non-diagnosis. No one knows what happened or why. All they know is that I am having serious chest pains, it is caused by inflammation in my chest, and my organs are all healthy. That is the good news. The bad news is this issue can last for a year or more in some people. The "fix" is to eat anti-inflammatory pills like they are candy for the next three months. If I am not better by then I continue the process. The treatment made me want to cry almost as much as the pain itself.
This could have been the effect of a virus. Two weeks ago when I had mild chest pain, it could have been this costochondritis starting up rather than the allergies that were diagnosed. I could have potentially lifted something wrong, or I could have just moved funny and caused swelling. I will never know. By not knowing, I will also not know how to prevent this problem in the future.
I spent the evening on the couch, doing nothing. I went to bed, got a good night's sleep, and spent the day on the couch. I know I can't handle much more of this. I feel like a lazy bum laying here all day while activity happens around me. I feel badly for Daniel; he goes to work in the morning, comes home to do the chores, makes dinner, and takes care of me. Poor guy. I guess it's a good thing "in sickness and in health" is in the wedding vows. I've had a lot more "in sickness" than I have had "in health" in the last couple of months.
Throughout the day I've been chatting with some other women who have costocondritis. One of them has suffered off and on for the past 15 years. Another was diagnosed several years ago. Apparently, even though all the internet information says that there is no more chance for someone to have costocondritis a second time just because they had it once, there is a potential for this disorder (disease?) to continue for quite some time. This will be just another inflammatory disorder for me to add to the list that I am already battling.
The doctor said that I will know when I am ready to get back to activity. The first step is no activity at all. That step appears like it will continue at least through tomorrow. I am taking this day by day. The next step will be light exercise, then I can slowly get back to my regular routine. From what others have said, a flare-up can be felt coming on, so I should not have to deal with another ambulance ride for fear I am having a heart attack. On the opposite side of the coin, some days for those women are so bad that they are restricted to bed.
I can easily see how people with serious long-lasting illness can become depressed. The thought of not being active for up to a year is extremely frustrating. At the moment, I can't imagine running again. Walking from one end of my house to the other is painful. Thank goodness we have a one-story home! So, here's hoping for a much quicker recovery than what "could" be. I will keep you posted.
