One Month, Six Days, & A Hole In My Throat Later

Howdy Buzznet!

I don’t really know how to start this journal other than very generically, like I am doing now. Great. You’d think I’d be able to conjure up some grand intro to my whereabouts for the last month but alas, I cannot. Well, I am back on the internet in a limited capacity. I’m still not in the office that contains whatever cube I sit in because I have a hole in my throat that I need to close up before I can get my meatless shanks back into the general population. People have amoebas and I am in no condition to fend them off at the moment.

What Happened

Since January, I’ve become progressively sick. It started off with a pain in my chest when I would breath deep and it kept getting worse. I thought it was something that would just pass. For a while it kind of did but then it came back even worse. That was when I started to go to the ER. All I was told was that I had an upper respiratory chest infection, given antibiotics, and sent home. That happened twice. I also went to my Dr. and he got me some blood tests and did exactly the same thing, more antibiotics.

It wasn’t until a few days later when I started to collapse on my way out of bed that something was obviously wrong. Mark had to help me up a few times when he found me all fetal like in the restroom or just laying about. Probably not the best thing for your BFF to have to do. One of the last things I remember was laying in bed while some fireman asked me questions. I also remember being in the hospital as another fireman told me to take care of myself and walked away. Then, it was lights out and something that makes me has a teary eyes even now as I type this.

I ended up having severe pneumonia. I was knocked out for a while, like a few weeks. During that time, I almost died, my family had to talk to hospice, I had a tracheotomy, lots of tubes in my body, and lots of needles/IV’s stuck into me like a pin cushion. I eventually started to get better and soon I woke up. How and why, I do not know. It’s very hard for me to wrap my head around the time when I was so sedated.

One thing that I remember was using American Sign Language to try to communicate. Since I couldn’t talk, as I had a breathing tube in my mouth, I tried to communicate with my hands. No one knew what I was trying to say. My mom eventually got feisty and got me an interpreter. It was still hard to sign because I was so weak that I couldn’t do the right hand movements or keep my arms up for too long.

I stayed in the ICU for a while, was fed through a tube that went in my nose, and all other sorts of fun things. I had really bad hallucinations where people were trying to kill me. I saw people stashed in curtains, hanging on hooks, and messing with my breathing tubes so that I would die. It was horrible. Sometimes I would try to escape or I’d forget where I was and start pulling out all the tubes in my face. The nurses had to restrain me by tying my hands down. This is basically a form a torture, especially when you see people in your room that are there to catch you a case of murder.

My family and friends have been super amazing during this whole recovery process and I think that’s really what brought me to where I am now. Everyday someone came to visit me and cheer me up. Some of you out there even sent me letters, cards, unicorns, and things that made think of how wonderful you all are. :: tears again ::

Being in bed for a month takes its toll. I weigh about 120 pounds now. I used to be about 155. None of my clothes fit, I am always cold, and I have a new set of body ish00z. I feel like a fuzzy version of Kate Moss. I’ve had to learn how to walk again and basically how to do everything I used to do all over again. Its pretty hard because I have little muscle left and my lungs are all messed up from the pneumonia. Even breathing is chore.

I arrived home on Friday. I was outside for the first time in what seemed like forever. Leaving my sterile bubble was kind of scary and the sun hurt my eyes. Here I am, adjusting and readjusting to whatever life is now and just trying to deal with all of this. Its so weird to go from being so independent to dependent on everyone for EVERYTHING. I am lucky in the sense that at least I have such an amazing group of friends and family that are here for me. Its just that when you are used to doing things and dealing with things on your own for so long, its hard to let others in and help you out. I’ve always been of the mind that my problems are exactly that, my problems and I’ll deal with them on my terms. Unfortunately, things extend into the web of the people you snared into your life for various reasons and it affects them as well. Its hard for me to accept that. I’ve always just thought I was alone or just a very solitary person but even a lot of us that think we’re loaners have people that care for us.

Well, it’s time for me to go and buy the dog some more pee pads and need to finish my lunch. Thanks Buzznet folks for the cards and such, they made me do an upsidedown frown in my hart.

I have cheek bones. That white thing hides the hole in my neck. My arms are super skinny. See all that room in the size S American Apparel shirt? PS, yes that’s a Walking Dead tattoo. I look strung out. Yay!