\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2315048-22823
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: GC · Essay · Medical · #2315048
Rebirth and second chances
2/28/23 - From the Ashes I Am Rising

One year ago today, on February 28, 2023, after spending a little over 24 hours in the ER in rhabdo (when the muscles break down and release proteins and electrolytes into the blood) and being close to death I was transferred to OSU Wexner Medical Center. This is the day I was given a second chance.

I don’t remember many details about the first few days as I was too out of it to know what was happening beyond blood draws and tests. I know I was in the ER there until sometime in the afternoon and all I could have were ice chips. I know once I got to my room that it’s a wonder I got any rest because there was a constant parade of doctors coming in and out of my room for 2 weeks or so. I mentioned blood draws, yes? I think I had 17 tubes taken one night. One of my nurses had the foresight to get as much as possible as tests were done nearly everyday. My arms were bruised all to hell for the next few weeks as was my stomach from heparin shots. I recall a team of doctors coming in and telling me about kidney failure and I had two questions based on what they had told me (which I can’t even remember anymore). They were, “Am I gonna die?” and, “Am I gonna need a kidney transplant?” Spoiler alert: Neither of those things happened.

In the first week I had a port put in. It wasn’t a fun time but it didn’t hurt that badly. It was nice when that could be used instead of being poked all the time. It was also used for dialysis. I kept that for two weeks at which time it was removed and a CVC was put in. It was meant for dialysis but I only got to use it once and then I didn’t need dialysis anymore. Having the port and CVC removed sucked more than having them put in. I also had a muscle biopsy done on my left thigh. I have scars from these procedures but seeing as I’m single at the time of writing this it’s unlikely that anyone besides a doctor will see them.

I had an EMG and that was annoying but not too bad because I was half-asleep. The one I had a couple weeks later was more annoying as I was fully awake. I had an MRI at some stupid hour like 1:15 AM. It had to have lasted four hours and it’s a miracle they were able to get anything on my left leg as it kept spasming. I also couldn’t breathe very well because my arm was jammed right up against me. Eventually I was given something to make me sleep.

I had a spinal tap done in my room on a Friday. I couldn’t move at all so I don’t even remember how I was kept on my side. All I know is I couldn’t breathe. At one point I begged, “Please no more,” and they stopped. Well, they didn’t get enough fluid, so I was approached about having a second one done the next day. I was not thrilled but said I would try it.

Side note: The actual spinal tap didn’t hurt per se as I was numbed. It was just a little uncomfortable. The lousy part was not being able to breathe and it only got worse the second time around.

I was taken to another room for the second spinal tap and I was put on my stomach. I can lie on my stomach but it’s not very comfortable as I have some numbness there. At the time I couldn’t raise my arms without screaming so this was a horrible position to be in. I know I was on one of my arms making breathing pretty much impossible. I was taking these little puffs and saying, “I can’t breathe!” I don’t know how long this went on but I was being told I COULD breathe even though my body was saying I COULD NOT. I remember that I started moving around as I was in distress and was told to hold still because I had a needle in my back. I didn’t care; I just wanted to breathe. I heard an alarm go off and I was flipped onto my back. I was thinking, ‘This is it. This is how it all ends on a cold metal table.’ I think they told me my oxygen dropped to 58%.

Had I been asked to do a third spinal tap I would’ve told them where they could stick that needle and it wouldn’t have been anywhere near my spine. Luckily they got enough fluid that time.

The food was terribad which meant not eating a lot. I was against a feeding tube at first but relented since I couldn’t get my nutrition up. That NG tube did absolutely nothing but get on my nerves. It wouldn’t uncoil so it was removed. I got used to eating scrambled eggs and mashed potatoes nearly everyday as well as a cup of broth in the evening. I’m not sure how I’m still able to eat eggs and potatoes.

Dialysis was fairly boring so it was my time to listen to music or chat with the people working there. One time the machine kept messing up so I was there maybe three hours. I know what some of you are thinking. ‘Three hours? Psh that’s nothing.’ I know that now. I was lucky in that I only had to go for about two hours. Also, I learned that dialysis isn’t just for people who need a new kidney or who are seeking end-of-life care. My kidneys were a bit sick but not THAT sick.

My mom stayed with me the whole three and a half weeks I was at OSU. Seriously, she should’ve been a nurse. She had been an aide between graduating early from high school and getting married. She didn’t move me around because she didn’t want to risk hurting me but she fed me and kept me company. I would’ve died of boredom had my mom not been with me. I didn’t use my phone for a couple of weeks because my hand-eye coordination was horrible and I couldn’t see very well anyway. Talking and watching television was about all there was to do. That was how I got into “Young Sheldon,” “Reba,” and “The Voice.” There were a lot of “Golden Girls” episodes too as well as a bit of “General Hospital” which I kind of watch now.

After two and a half weeks I was moved to another floor because my level of care was no longer as critical. It sucked because I didn’t get to say goodbye to the nurses (I’m looking at you, Lainey) and we had A LOT of stuff to pack up. My mom was livid because we had about an hour to pack up and move. I understood how things like that go, but Mama Bear’s gonna Mama Bear.
I did though see a familiar face or what I could see of his face given that everyone wore masks. A senior nursing student named Tanner wasn’t donning the red student uniform but rather the green PCA scrubs. Wherever you are, Tanner, I hope you’re doing well.

My new room was bigger than the old one but it didn’t matter much seeing as I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t even sit up or hold up my head on my own. While at OSU I had a bit of PT and OT. I started learning to do things like grooming myself all over again. I said we needed a team name and actually called ourselves the Peacemakers. I explained “Wynonna Earp” to them and how she sent revenants back to Hell with her gun. I said that each rep I did was like me sending a revenant back to Hell. I can’t remember everyone I worked with but I remember Aaron and Val. I hope you guys are doing well too and continue helping people fight their demons.

This next part of the story is kind of gross so if bodily functions bother you then just skip it. I’ll try to not be too graphic though.

I had a catheter put in while in the ER. I don’t remember why unless it’s because I had trouble using a bedpan. It’s weird now to think about not peeing on my own for two and a half weeks but once the catheter was removed and I used the bedpan it was like angels sang. For the rest of the evening I would randomly say, “Hey, mom. I went pee pee!” I was so proud of myself.

Being on god knows how many medications (taken with applesauce or yogurt) and not being able to move means the bowels won’t move. I think I went a week and a half without going number two and one of the nurses said the doctors weren’t happy with my colon. They weren’t happy? Hell, I was angry. They started feeding me Miralax which did nothing to help. Up to this point the spinal taps were the worst thing I endured while in the hospital. Those were nothing compared to constipation because at least with the former I was numbed.

Since the Miralax did nothing I was given a suppository. That didn’t do anything either. I tried at one point to go and I think I managed a tiny bit but when I was being cleaned up I screamed. I held out my hand for my mom to grab. I should mention that this was my last night at OSU as I was to be transferred to Southern Ohio Medical Center for three weeks of inpatient rehab. I kept saying I couldn’t travel like this and needed to poop. Eventually my nurse gave me an enema while I proceeded to cry feeling very degraded. I know it wasn’t my fault, but being that vulnerable just plain sucks. I felt like I was passing razor blades. I don’t know how long it took, but it ended with a loud grunt. I told my mom that I know it’s a different hole, but I’m never giving birth.

The next day I was transferred to SOMC where I was worked hard (thanks, Jess and Ali) and ate very well. I went from not being able to sit up on my own and barely able to feed myself to being able to do most things on my own and some with a bit of help. I was even standing up though that would take a lot of work. I also became a pretty big Hallmark junkie. The walking came after I got home and was visited by home health workers. Physical therapy helped strengthen my legs and now I can walk about as well as I did before my muscles broke down. My balance is still not great and I’m not sure if that will really get better but I’m working on it. I use the cane if I have to walk distances but for going around the house and short distances I’m usually confident that I can walk and not fall over. It’s more of a balance tool at this point.

I think that’s the majority of my story. A lot of things I’ve forgotten either due to time or trauma. Sadly I can’t remember many of the names of people I met, but I never stop thinking about them. I hope this answers any questions anyone may have had (and probably told more than anyone planned to read). So on my first Phoenix birthday, I think I can officially declare this chapter closed.
© Copyright 2024 Lamentamini (saxylady at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2315048-22823