How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on... when in your heart you begin to understand... there is no going back? There are somethings that time cannot mend... some hurts that go too deep... that have taken hold.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
It's all coming back to me
Just last week I had the pleasure of running into one of the doctors who took care of me while I was in the ICU. Dr Ram (not really his name because I can't remember his real name) took care of me during a time when I was being sedated but also was around when I was coming to. We briefly discussed, my sedation vacations. I made brief mention before of my nightmares and hallucinations while I was out. When I finally did come to, I new that I was in a hospital because I was in one in my nightmares. The real reason I knew this was because I had been given "sedation vacations" starting in the second half of August. These were brief periods where they would reduce the pain medication and sedation enough that I could wake up. Here they would do cognitive tests for responsiveness and brain damage (because of the strokes). To me, these interludes were just part of a nightmare or hallucination. After I left the hospital, after talking with my Mother, who spent 9 weeks in California at my bedside, and my girlfriend Wendy, who has spent the last 6 months, at my bedside, taking care of me at home, helping to manage my care in the hospital, , I began to realize that these brief periods were not hallucinations, but had actually happened. I remember Dr. Ram speaking with me about the VAD devices. I remember being extabated the first time and who did (a respiratory tech named Anisa). I remember the ICU nurse helping to evaluate my breathing after I was extabated. I remember the Africans-American radiology tech who would come into my room, loud and excited, every morning at 6 am, to take my DAILY chest X-ray. I also remember still fighting infection during these times. Sadly, I don't remember Wendy or my mother being there, only in the final days before I woke, do I remember my mother being there, as they were "bringing me up" as my foggy memory recalls. Finally, at the beginning of September I was strong enough and not-in-pain enough, to allow me to fully wake up. I still can't believe what I awoke to.
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