Stream of consciousness or unconsciousness, you be the judge.
Regardless, folks, this is where I was.
Really happy to be back.
Tuesday – two weeks ago
I woke up in the morning, had breakfast, watched my shows, and pretty much kept to my daily routine which consists of blogging, chatting with people online, playing video games, etc. Somewhere in there, I had lunch and a nap.
Wednesday – two weeks ago
I felt a pain in my abdomen while watching one of my shows, excused myself, walked approximately thirty feet, and the pain became excruciating. I started to sweat, vomit, and all of the other wonderful things you hope never to experience more than once in a lifetime. 911, ambulance arrives, EMT’s put me on a gurney, inject me with morphine, and rush me to the ER of the local hospital.
Out of the blue. No warning – nothing.
Now, one of the few things that cuts through the fog of a large dose of morphine is a doctor saying, “in my twenty years, I have never seen anything like this.”
I am given tramodol, which in a perfect world would be called fukitall – potent stuff – a few more flashes of memory and I am now in the ICU. The diagnosis is now a blood clot in my abdomen, which if not treated, will shut down my intestinal tract, thereby forcing me to eventually wear a big bag with which to deposit anything I would normally use the toilet to get rid of.
But that’s a worse case scenario.
After what I can only describe as a night full of thoughts along the lines of kill me kill me now, they take me to a room where they insert a sheath into my groin area, in an effort to inject heparin, which is a blood thinner.
(ask your doctor if heparin is right for you
side effects may include spontaneous decapitation or an inexplicable urge to join the Republican party)
If the blood clot is the Black Knight, then heparin is Arthur, attempting to slice off enough of the knight to allow regular flow in my intestine.
(if you don’t get that reference, read no further and go watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail – if you still don’t get the reference, I have no further use for you)
Several agonizingly painful visits to the Pain Room later. I can’t move my right leg at all, can’t bend it, nada. And all the while the automatic blood pressure cuff pounds away when I least expect it. And since I can’t move my leg, assorted nurses perform their version of “bedpan can-can”. Nothing like not having any control whatsoever over your body.
So is the heparin doing its thing? You bet it is. I can tell by the balls-to-the-wall please God kill me now pain that is now hitting me – this being sometime the next day or so. My Mom holds my hand, and my other reaches for a nurse who isn’t there. She eventully shows up, and It’s only afterward that I discover that, yes, that pain was not the clot, but actually proof that the medicine is working.
You know that expression “damned if you do, damned it you don’t”? Yep, that was me.
It’s working. I can move my right leg. Lucidity is coming back. And after an especially pleasing session of Spongebath NoPants, it’s time for me to leave the ICU.
So that was the first week.
to be continued…