492 Days

I thought that I would take some time to create what is the first post of 2020.

It’s been a very difficult time over these recent months. So let me clue you in on what has been going on with me.

The 17th of October 2018 is where I will start. I already wrote a post shortly after this date that my apartment caught fire. Everything was lost. But thankfully nobody was seriously hurt.

I spent two full months homeless, living in a hotel and living off of donations that were graciously provided from friends and strangers alike.

In early December 2018, I had found an apartment complex who had taken the last two people who hadn’t found something more permanent. Myself and another neighbor.

It took some adapting to and eventually I would meet people and build relationships with a few of those who lived in the sixteen story high rise.

After the brutal Texas summer had passed and autumn was creeping in, I started not to feel very well at all.

Imagine being in warm weather and still having your body shake and shiver. I knew something was going on.

I thought that it was “just another infection” as I get them commonly because of the Spina Bifida.

By the 11th of November, I could no longer withstand whatever was trying to keep me down. It turns out that whatever it was… was not trying to keep me down, but rather it was trying to take me out. This infection that I had was trying to kill me.

So I went into the hospital that evening on the 11th of November.

After at least a dozen surgeries, the infection had eaten a hole on my body and was going deep towards the spine. Doctors said that just by looking at the wound, that they could barely see the bone of my spine because the hole was that deep down.

A dozen surgeries and all of them done within two weeks. The last one being an attempt to close the wound with a skin graft. And it was serious. The plastic surgeon continued to threaten to amputate my leg so that he could use the skin to cover the wound.

The amputation however did not happen.

My last surgery was on the 26th of November. Then began the difficult task of basically being in bed for 30 days without getting up or even sitting up. I had to be flat the entire time. Not a very easy thing to do.

I think that I was more upset about the fact that I was starting to spend holidays away from home and either a hospital or in a rehab hospital.

I had only been in the hospital for a week before I received a call from my brother that the apartments that had been rebuilt. ONE week!!!!

Christmas was difficult. And my birthday in January was coming soon. I had made plans for that day to go to San Antonio, Texas that day. And I was afraid that all the money that I had spent would go to waste.

In early January, I was sent to “skilled nursing.” But don’t get me started on that because I will bitch and complain from start to finish.

But I did receive some medical and wound care there. Then finally, on the day of my birthday this year, wound care said that my wounds were all gone and they had nothing to tend to.

And yet I missed my trip to San Antonio, Texas. In order to save myself from financial destruction, I had to sell the tickets to the concert that I had. I lost about $60 USD in that adventure.

Finally in the month of February, I started pushing staff about a discharge date. While I was there, I was receiving physical therapy and occupational therapy as well as the nursing care.

I pushed and I pushed hard. Asking just about every day when I would be released from both types of therapy. And I had done so until I was given a date for discharge.

I was focused to do whatever it was that I needed to do to make sure that I did in fact LEAVE on that date.

Family flew in from Atlanta to give some extra help in those first few days but after 492 days since the fire, the apartments were rebuilt and I finally returned to a brand new apartment.

And at the time of this being written, I am on my second week of being here and still trying to get used to things. I am happy to be out of the care of any medical facility and back to a life of independence as much as I had before.

I’ve learned so many things about my own personal health and I learned about how other people in my life, no matter how big or small, actually love and care about me.

But for now, it is very slow. I cannot be sitting in the wheelchair for very long. After a few hours, I have to lay down. And I am hoping that soon that I will heal from the inside as well as the outside and I can get passed this current situation and get on with life.

Going to shows for a while, are going to be very few and far between. I’ve been to two already and heavily paid the price for doing so with fatigue and pain.

Also moving forward, I’ve put out a poll on social media. The response is that I should go back to doing show reviews. So every show that I attend locally or whatever, I will be doing blog posts. But I will start fresh and create a new blog specifically for that purpose.

I’m looking forward to putting all these days behind me and leaving them to be nothing but a faded memory.

 

Conquering The Sickness

“A hospital is no place to be sick.” ~ Samuel Goldwyn

Wow!! It has definitely been a long time.

This afternoon I’ve been battling whether or not to talk about this here on Dambreaker. But I decided to at least do it for myself. If not, for others.

I’ve been sick. Like REALLY sick for the longest time, with edema in my legs. I guess it happens frequently to wheelchair users as their legs dangle downward when they are sitting upright.

I was no exception. Definitely no exception.

At last, it got so bad that they were draining fluids on their own and my skin was in horrible condition. Not to mention any infection I may have had.

I finally made the decision to go to the emergency room via ambulance.

This would be a turning point in terms of my health. The moment I arrived, everyone who gazed upon my legs was in pure shock.

It did not take them long to make the decision to admit me into the hospital. But I knew that was coming any way.

After getting fluids, antibiotics, and pain killers in my system. I felt that I was on the road to recovery. And depending how long it would take the edema to go away from my legs was  good question.

I even had two musician friends come and visit me while in the hospital. So cool…thank you to them for showing up.

But a few days later, I woke up around 5:00 AM in so much pain. I was cold and shivering and it was uncontrollable. By the time the sun had come up, I was fading in and out. And I could not keep my eyes open at all. And I couldn’t find myself to keep warm. 

Then I remember nothing but blackness. Like a film or TV show “fading to black”, sort of.

After that, it was a few hours later. Just like THAT!! I was sitting up in bed for a while and then had to lay back down. Nurses and hospital staff were congratulating me for what they said was for “coming back quickly” – but I did not understand. I had to be told that after the “fade to black” feeling, I was flat line for about two or three minutes, then I was revived. Apparently I was gone…. lost… and through the help of modern medicine, I came back.

I don’t recall much of anything about the incident, other than being told that I was “gone for a minute or two.”

Yet I was much, much, much stronger than that!!!! It was NOT my time.

The following day, I was pumping pain killers in me like clock work. By about the second day after the incident, I was being discharged from the hospital. The doctor however said something about going into “rehab” and it was up to me to pick a place to go to.

Rehab? What the hell?? What is this “rehab” you speak of dumbass?

In a panic I picked a location without knowing ANYTHING about the places that were offered to me. NOT A THING. 

The place that I chose for “rehab” ended up being “REHABILITATION AND SKILLED NURSING” — yep…. a damn nursing home!!!

What had I done??

So my first 48 hours there was pure torture. Including the fact that the bed was so uncomfortable beyond all measure.

After the first 24, I was in a meeting with the director. I was NOT happy with the way I had been treated. She agreed that it should have never happened. I came back with an idle threat out of frustration and severe anger “Maybe I’d be better off going back to the hospital.” I received no response.

So for seven days, I was stuck in the hell hole known as the nursing home. My roommate was a 70 year old man who was an alcoholic and farted and burped every time he was asleep and started to wake up. Every-single-time.

And of course the sights, smells, and sounds of a traditional nursing home. UGHHHHH!!!

But this afternoon… today…. I came home.

I’m not feeling quite 100% but I am so glad to be home. And I NEVER wanna go through that kind of crap ever again. From the near death to the misery. Never, never, ever.

I am alive. I am home. That’s all there needs to be.

Blog Hiatus

“Mourning is not forgetting… It is an undoing. Every minute tie has to be untied and something permanent and valuable recovered and assimilated from the dust.”~ Margery Allingham

So I never thought that I would be writing about this in my blog considering the fact that I have read many other blogs and the authors complaining about how they feel that they have neglected writing. And here I am writing that I’m going to stop for a while.

My brother-in-law has been in the hospital recently. His liver basically right now is gone. And with his medical condition as it is, (I don’t want to give out too much information) basically he’s going to pass away at some point. The doctors were given him just a few days because his kidneys were beginning to fail, but then the good news is that they started to bounce back. But because of everything else that is going on well.. as they say, “the damage has been done.”

I feel really rotten for my sister right now and what she is going through. There’s no way that I can fathom it. I have helped out in watching her two young children (ages 2 and 7 years old) while she went to the hospital, but then I got sick with an infection and very high fever and  couldn’t do it any more.

Nobody really knows how long this is going to last with my brother-in-law. He is coming home from the hospital, but will be in hospice care. And I can’t really say whether that’s good, bad, or what.

But I am going to do what I can to help out my sister. Especially after I start to feel better. I’m nervous though because I do have that sledge hockey tournament in Dallas, and then the week after that a weekend with SIX MINUTE CENTURY. I’m scared because what if he passes while I am gone or just before I am to leave? It’s a very difficult thing to consider or ponder.

However, I will be leaving the blog behind for a while. At least, that is the current way of thinking. I haven’t been doing it recently, because I have been sick. And yes, I know that is an excuse. But it is what it is and that’s the way it is.

Bear with me, please.

 

Hospital Havoc

“A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running.”~Groucho Marx

 

Welcome back dear readers.

 

So then I was right. The last blog post, I knew that I was getting terribly sick to the point that I was going to have to enter the hospital.

 

It was not something that I was wanting to do, since my birthday was coming up in a few days from then. However, the decision to go to the hospital and risk the fact that I would celebrate my birthday there would be, quite honestly, life saving.

 

I think that the last time that I was in hospital, I was there for five days. And even had my gall bladder removed. So I suppose that I was banking on the possibility that I might be in and out of the hospital before or just after my birthday.

 

That didn’t happen. Instead, I returned home last night.

 

Eleven days total. And one major surgery to boot with a wound that they’ve left open. Today, I am certain that I would win the prize for being the sorest man alive.

 

I have to stay positive in my thinking. Even though right now that is extremely difficult to do, through all the pain and discomfort. It will get better, one day at a time. I must also remind myself that I did do the right thing, for myself and for my health. I probably wouldn’t be here if I had not made that decision to go. It was THAT BAD!!

 

But, I’m alive!

 

So hang in there, dear followers… things will get better, and I promise that I will continue to write whenever I am able to.