stomaversary

In 8 days I will mark the two year anniversary of when I almost died.  I am telling my story for a support group post here so if you've heard the details before, bear with me.  I knew I was sick with diverticulitis but had kept it half way knocked down with antibiotics.  The night that I realized it was an emergency, I drove myself to the ER to be told that I didn't have diverticulitis because my white count was normal.  No CT was ordered.  I had declined one prior to that because I was uninsured at the time.  One week later it was coming a monsoon on a Friday night and I woke up , knowing that it was do or die time and the road was flooded.  I called my brother at 6AM to take me out in his truck to ER again.  Cousin Millette took over there and stayed with me all day until I was transferred to Baptist East in Memphis.  The CT showed not only diverticulitis but a complete small obstruction that had formed an abscess.  I don't remember anything about those 11 hours that I spent in Dyersburg and faintly remember a rainy EMS drive to Memphis which is 90 miles away.  

I was there on a floor for one night until surgery could be lined up.  I woke up on a vent and was totally freaked out trying to ask Lauren what was wrong.  She said they had to hit me with propofol!  Lauren was spreading the word to everybody because it looked pretty serious and the next thing I knew two of my pastors were standing over my bed.  At first I thought I was in heaven because all these other special people were there.  Patsye got to watch me get extubated and thought it was cool.  I never even knew she was there.

I was put into a room then on a routine post-op floor right next to the nurse's station on 3L of O2 and a shit ton of other drugs.  All in all, I was on oxicillin, flagyl and levaqiun for 3 weeks.  I spent a week in a rehab facility and it was the most miserable time of my life.  My release to the nursing home was delayed by MLK day and insurance folks being off.  I made several good friends there in CNAs who liked to engage with somebody who was actually able to talk.  Same for PTs and nurses. They had just been bought and it was all kinda' wonky.

Home health worked with me for two  months because I had a wound vac and didn't know the first thing about changing a bag.  The nurse at Baptist showed me how but I had anesthesia brain.  I still struggle with it sometimes.  Reversal was a really risky option because I had parts of both intestines removed.  Would it reach?  Hmmm.  Also, Covid. It ia an elective procedure and as all know the hospitals are full of you know what.  They are overwhelmed.  

I watched all this start from a hospital bed in Memphis along with Koby Bryant's death and Trump's impeachment.  I remember after one sleepless night watching a beautiful sunrise over my window and I knew it was my mother telling me to be brave.  It happened on the date of her death.

Y'all hang in there.  Things could be worse ^j^