Road to Recovery

I have spent the last couple of days trying to figure out what to write next.. the memories are both vivid and blurry, do I really need to do this??  I want to leave it in the past but I have this unexpected urge to put it all in print, so here goes!

I remember being in the hospital, I remember lots of intense pain, I was forbidden to get out of bed without a nurse or an aide – I also remember that most of my nurses were all   pregnant and I didn’t want them to help me out of bed because I was worried about their babies! (I was in the hospital so long most of my nurses had their babies before I went home)   I remember this intense feeling of shame of not being able to attend to my most basic needs, I think one of the most demoralizing things of being in the hospital is someone wiping your *ss for you… how do you make eye contact after that??  If I had a male aide, I would hold out until the shift change.  I remember thinking what if I never walk again and what if people have to take care of me like this forever??  It made me feel in awe of people that are confined to wheel chairs and others who live with limitations and this terrified me too… which brought on my guilt again, it was a vicious cycle of hopelessness, frustration, suffering and pain.

So now that we know we are dealing with osteomyelitis we know I need a powerful antibiotic to fight it.  The last surgery was called a debridement – an infection of the surrounding tissues and organs of my spinal column, the infection was pretty widespread by the time they found it.  My “band-aid surgery” was now a raging infection with a dozen staples and a drain and a lovely PICC line installed in my right arm so the drugs can go directly into my blood stream to fight this monster of an infection.  Well at least I will get better now right???  The Doctors didn’t know at the time, but it was only the beginning of my little piece of hell.  I was informed that due to the care I needed I would be transferred to a rehab hospital where I could get stronger and receive physical therapy to regain my strength and balance.  I strongly felt something was wrong but nobody would listen to me, they just kept pushing pills and sent me on my way.  The first thing I remember about the rehab facility was it was HOT, I’m talking blisteringly hot, at the time we were going through a horrible heatwave where it had been over 100 degrees and humid for several days.  They put me in a room with several people and I could not breathe, the AC had gone out and it was stifling.  My pain was getting worse, everything was blurry and I could not move… I must have called my husband, I don’t remember much during this time, but I remember my husband’s parents coming in with a fan to cool me off…. I was burning up and I kept telling them something was wrong… My husband came by after work… not sure how I was moved or how many days went by, could be 1 or 3, but I was moved to a room with AC and he demanded a nurse take my temperature… I was 102.9 and we were informed they would not call a doctor until I was over 103!!  I was writing in pain and begging for someone to help me, my arm was red where the PICC line was and I was scared I was going to die there.  The nurse informed my husband she would page a doctor… he decided to go the nurses station and stayed there with his arms crossed until someone came in… now my husband can be an intimidating person when he is determined, for this I will be forever grateful, if he had not done this my story could have had a very different ending….Within 10 minutes a doctor was there.   That action literally saved my life.

The next few hours are a blur and most of this was retold to me by my husband and friends…. I know I was transported by ambulance back to the hospital, the PICC line threw a blood clot and was also infected!  Even as I am writing this my breathing is rapid and I feel very anxious….   After removing the infected line I had to wait for what seemed like forever for someone to come back in… My friend and her family were in the ER, her mother had fallen, and they saw my husband in the waiting room, they say they came in to see me, I don’t remember…. I remember being told I was being sent back to rehab facility and I flat out refused, begging them to readmit me here or they would kill me there!  Then I was alone for a long time, they had sent my husband home to get some rest telling him I would be moved to a room soon. In the confusion somehow they had mistakenly put on my chart that I had been sent back to Rehab… I was utterly alone… the room was dark, I was ringing the nurse button because I was in so much pain and I also had to go to the bathroom, I was still restrained to the gurney… it was that nightmare all over again… I was screaming but nobody could hear me…I don’t know how long I cried and yelled, it felt like hours, it could have been minutes I really don’t know.  Finally, by the grace of God, a nurse came by to clean the room and found me still in there… she was frantic, explaining to me she didn’t know I was there… I think I passed out after this, I really can’t be sure…

Author: myjourneybacktomyself15

I'm a journey to rediscover my identity, to overcome pain from too much surgery, CDiff and self limiting behavior. I am lucky enough to have a family to inspire me, as well as 2 rescue pibbles who need me to get back to me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s