“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.