Fifteen days total but halfway through I began to lose myself to the constant and extreme pain. My medication cocktail sometimes caused me to see dragons and aliens. I'd been in intensive care for the bilateral pulmonary embolism and life threatening blood clots. I was about to begin a chapter of life I'll never forget, one that has left physical scars and emotional pain. What I've decided to do is express some of those experiences through art.
The first experience in multi media is called Three Birds.
Half way through ICU care I was losing it. The doctors worried I'd have to go on dialysis. My kidneys were shutting down, my heart was in trouble too. I was in trouble and I knew it so I asked my God, "Are you with me?" I needed to know if He knew his servant needed his comfort and approval....continue reading "Three Birds"
My toes were so cold I wanted to get under the blanket, better yet I could warm imaginary toes beside and imaginary heater and get better results.
I experienced, for the first time, this phantom pain they talked about. It's where you can feel the limb that was removed. One man said he could feel his foot itch even though it wasn't there. For me, I had a strong response like neuropathy. It was as if I were experiencing Raynaud's Syndrome. The 'toes' were so cold! ...continue reading "Raynaud’s Syndrome or something else?"
I've gotten a hold of all the paperwork I need to apply for the wheelchair accessible apartment! I have everything I need! Oh I can't wait to have my own place again. Since this started I've had zero personal space either physically or environmentally. People touch and prod, observe and examine, when and where they like. And they've done it since February when the train wreck began. So now after 5 months of living in a hospital with 2 months of that 5 in a nursing home, I will have night time privacy.
The last few days have been torture. I hurt from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. The amputation site is having an electric storm of shock and neuropathy. It's been a bad few days and I've done very little reaching out. I've just been waiting for medication time!
The foot that was amputated coincidentally was the foot with Chronic Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy. Though amputated for other reasons, I hoped the RSD fire and pain would stop, it didn't and won't. It doesn't work that way. ...continue reading "Enduring the Days"
I asked you to do the surgery. You said you could or a colleague but I trusted my life in your hands. It felt like there was so much at stake, more to lose than body parts. I can't explain how afraid I was that I'd throw a blood clot or bleed to death. I was so scared I kept calling to my mother!
I had a dream about her last night. She was a helpless infant in my arms. I rolled around in my wheelchair with her head on my shoulder. I made sure she was safe and warm. Safe. ...continue reading "Not Cut and Dry"
I'm not brave. I'm not. I'm not rolling with the punches, I'm just getting punched. As I said, I've walked through the fire and I'm all burned up. I'm skinny, starving for a moment of real rest, of relief. ...continue reading "The Brave Face"
I see "the surgeon" tomorrow, the one who amputated my toes. I wonder what kind of person it takes to look at a foot rotted black, take a saw and hack off a body part to be thrown away? What allows his mind to go there and his hands to follow? Though beyond repair, black as night, shriveled to nothing and dry, they were still mine.
My heart knows 100% that this surgeon was one who helped save my life, mine and many others. He is loved and honored, rightfully put on a pedestal. He has taken people with slim odds and brought them back from the brink. In my heart I see him that way, but behind my eyes I see the man who methodically removed part of me and threw me away.
I have a few more art supplies coming from Amazon.com which will give my heart another reason to beat happily. I don't look happy in the photo bc I'm not. I was at the beginning of whatever my body is doing right now. I'm hacking and spitting up, vomiting and utterly miserable feeling. That's how my body feels but when I get a visitor I perk right up and chat and laugh like my old self.
12 painful stairs to a tiny room. Each step felt like I couldn't cry any more than I did one step earlier. I made it up the stairs and laid on the air mattress with a slow leak and asked myself, "is it worth it?" can't I just stop taking meds and let nature take its course in a matter of days? Then the real me took a breath! I was reminded that this is very temporary. I'm with friends who, though of humble means truly love me. And honestly, I'd rather be here than in a nursing home with workers who like me but who don't do half of what they should. ...continue reading "A difficult start"