missing in action

I’ve been missing for a while, i know, i know, sorry about that. But i have a really good excuse this time. I almost died. Yep, I got really sick and almost died. At least that’s what my doctor hinted at when lying in the CCU/ICU and she looks at me and goes, “you are the talk of the ER”. Um. this is a bit confusing because I haven’t been in the ER since early Saturday morning ( like 6am after arriving at 6pm or so Friday evening) I guess she could tell that I had this “huh” look on my face because she ever so nonchalantly says “they are suprised you are still here.” WTF, seriously? Damn, they thought i would die? what does it say about their damn confidence in their abilities? Bastards. I spent 5 1/2 days in CCU/ICU. I will say that the nurses were the absolute best. Even know, thinking about them makes me smile. When my blood pressure stayed in the 70-80 range (the top number) they never let on how sick i was. When i would ask if the number was okay, they would look me in the eye and say “oh, it could be better, but how are you feeling” or “its stable, but we’d like it to be a bit higher”. Never once did they let on that they thought i wasn’t going to make it, especially when my heart rate was over 110 beats per minute and I had blood clots filling up my lungs and heart. They would talk to me about general stuff and screen my calls from my friends (who i later learned were blowing up the phone) The nurses told callers that I was sleep (when i finally fell asleep) or that I was resting or that calls were restricted to family. I didn’t really mind. I was quite frankly, scared as hell. When they pumped me full of Halperin (a blood thinner) and TPA (a serious blood thinning drug) i gained 20 lbs in 5 days. I spent about a week peeing it off. No, that’s not a good way to lose weight. My arms were swollen and badly bruised. (i had fallen 24 hrs before i went to the ER) Apparently, bruising and then taking blood thinners isn’t a good idea. My arms looked as if someone beat me with a baseball bat. Now weeks later, my arms are ‘almost’ normal. There are still patches of red on my forearms (my body has to ‘reabsorb’ the blood and its going to take some time. I still have green and black bruising, which of course, also will take time. I am however taking some very, very, very expensive medicine via self-injections to my stomach every 12 hours (yes that is just as painful as it sounds) until such time and my blood is ‘thin’ enough, then i switch to pills. and No, my blood isn’t quite there yet. Which means another week or so of injections. I shouldn’t complain right? I mean, really, I’m alive.

I’m alive

I remember telling one of the nurses in the ER that I didn’t want to die. She told me that they were going to take care of me. This is after I ‘threw’ a blood clot in my lungs when lying on a gurney in the hallway after hours before being told that I probably had “congestive heart failure’. Um, wrong diagnosis doc. Then there was me puking all over the nurses and doctors when they were trying to keep me alive. And my personal favorite: the nuclear medicine tech telling the nurse that the last person he performed this test on died. I’m guessing he thought I wasn’t conscious. when he walked out, i asked the nurse, “did he just say the last person died he gave this test too?” The nurse replied, “He shouldn’t have said that in front of you” Oh, so it was okay to say it to YOU?

I’m alive

I told myself on Saturday that I would stay alive until Monday, after that, I couldn’t guarantee, but i would fight tooth and nail to stay alive long enough for my brother to arrive from Washington State where he was training for the Army. I haven’t seen him in over 4 years now. He was stationed overseas and returned last summer to the states with a pregnant wife. I haven’t seen the baby either (a combination of scheduling and money). We text a lot and I’ve seen pictures and video of my most recent nephew (who is absolutely adorable). By Monday, I’d turn the corner, so to speak. My mother decided not to have my brother come to the hospital as I was ‘out of the woods’ (so I’ve been told) and the medicine’s seem to be working. The clots were dissolving and the one(s) in my heart were gone.

I’m alive

One of my girlfriends, who has her own medical issues, came to visit me almost daily. She told me that this was God’s way of telling me to listen. I think God didn’t have to get that damn drastic. Many of my close friends were just devastated I was so sick, because I don’t get sick. There is something to be said for hearing your close friends tell you how much you mean to them. Now that I’ve been out of the hospital over a week, its starting to hit me. I’m alive. Now what?

I’m alive

Everything has crashed at my feet. Before this happened I was dealing with some other life drama. Car blew a head gasket in another state, 2 days later, lost my job, had a birthday in which i couldn’t afford to celebrate, and within days began to have serious health issues, yea April was just a fantastic month for me. I hated that job anyway. I will never put that job on any resume or employment reference ever, so it’s all good. But now what? What am I suppose to do? What ‘lesson’ am I suppose to learn? I’ve learned that dying isn’t exactly something I want to do right now. Besides wanting to spend time with my brother and nephew, my life is this open slate of nothing.

I have this ‘second’ chance and quite frankly, I’m totally lost. I don’t know what i’m suppose to do next? Usually, when my friends come to me for advice, i have some quip that makes totally sense and helps them find their path. Me? I got nothing. Outside of waking up now and thinking, “what’s my purpose”. I got nothing.

I’m alive.

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