From Show Low, Arizona — July 1
I am alive.
The story is long, well nearly two months long. The first hospital that I went to sent me home in a cab. July 5th I ended up in St. JosepIh's Hospital after Haylee and Andrew had the fire department break in my apartment door after I didn't respond to phone calls or knocking at the door. They found me in septic shock, incoherent. The next few days I have no memory of, pieced together like a really bad blackout from fragments. I do remember thinking that I was on a submarine. Hallucinations can be nautical? Blood infections can be deadly and so can submarines.
The story is long, well nearly two months long. The first hospital that I went to sent me home in a cab. July 5th I ended up in St. JosepIh's Hospital after Haylee and Andrew had the fire department break in my apartment door after I didn't respond to phone calls or knocking at the door. They found me in septic shock, incoherent. The next few days I have no memory of, pieced together like a really bad blackout from fragments. I do remember thinking that I was on a submarine. Hallucinations can be nautical? Blood infections can be deadly and so can submarines.
Days in ICU - eventually the medical team was able to stabilize me and send me to a med/surg floor. Tests began along with two pieces of paper taped on the wall by my bed telling me where I was, who my daughter is, and that Tobie and Lara were taking care of my cats. Roots to reality.
Countless MRI's and CT scans only revealed that I was very sick stemming from a mrsa staph infection though the approximately 20 specialists could not pinpoint the source. Think Benny Hill moving in a herd of white coats. Surgical teams started visiting me along with the infectious disease folks. The infection process was attacking from the outside in, and I can't tell you how many different surgeries I had before they just sent me to the operating room for the final one. Didn't want to see, know, or tried not to hear what they were talking about. I just asked that they make me well. Fix it.
It is said there are no atheists in fox holes. I have faith in a power greater then me, but this experience drilled home the fa
ct. Over and over again. After the final surgery (and before) I kept telling the doctors in my team of twenty that I was getting better. Pain is a force that creates a spiritual need to fight or give up. If you didn't notice I am a fighter...It is said there are no atheists in fox holes. I have faith in a power greater then me, but this experience drilled home the fa
Thank you Tobie and Lara for bringing me music. The connection that the soul has to sounds is a healing force that cannot be denied. Thank you all for the thoughts, calls, and prayers most of all. I felt the healing force of you all. If all one can do is listen to music, plug in to the symphony of sound that awakes the soul.
Mid July (after the hacking party I told the surgeons it was called) I began the massive antibiotics . I also realized what people in the military talk about when they describe MRE's. One day I had given green jello that looked like it had kryptonite ala Superman. The same day I had a rheumatologist that looked like a French Mr. Bean, Surrealism and no hallucinations. Yes I was on pain meds. I'm not that tough, and I wanted to keep healing. I ate and drank whatever they put in front of me and kept asking for real fruit and green food even if it was unidentifiable. Peanut butter banana protein shakes too...
Eventually I was hooked up to a wound vac (high tech device to help heal from the inside out on super deep incisions - developed to help those in the military initially). This bought me freedom to go to a skilled nursing facility. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest meets Machiavelli. You get the picture. The music again kept me sane and helped me tune out when I needed to do so; thank you Alan and Bobbi for the M&M's too.
July 28th I was sent home for home nursing for wound care and antibiotics. I was able to move in to the place that I had moved to a month before. Thank you again kid for you and your man's help with unpacking and helping me feel at home. Guess I was released from the wound vac a week ago yesterday, and I looked for the first time at the wound on my flank. To be honest I almost passed out. Yesterday I gave myself the last dose of IV antibiotics, and today my nurse pulled my IV line. Just one CT scan to go in September before I am released from this saga. My recent lab work looking for Lupus markers came back essentially negative. That ma,es me wonder how much of this adventure was negligent care from the initial treatment at St. Luke's Medical Center. That is a question for the legal system.
So what did learn from all of this? Have faith, even in a submarine because eventually you will see the light. Screw fear - even when the evidence appears real (see faith). Be grateful for the small miracles because they add up to big ones. Tiny steps equal miles eventually. Love each other. We are each exactly where we are supposed to be with the right people in our lives.
Tell the people that you love that you do - often, and most of all show them. You may not get a second chance.
So what did learn from all of this? Have faith, even in a submarine because eventually you will see the light. Screw fear - even when the evidence appears real (see faith). Be grateful for the small miracles because they add up to big ones. Tiny steps equal miles eventually. Love each other. We are each exactly where we are supposed to be with the right people in our lives.
