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     On New Year‘s Eve I found myself stuck on an er gurney for about 9 hours waiting on an icu bed.  While it wasn’t much fun for me, it did give me insight into the many patients that came and went while I was waiting.  It was these people that gave me insight into what Nurse K and ER Doc go through all the time.

     I’ll start with the upper 20 something woman that came in at 3am with an ear ache.  Really?  An ear ache is what brings you to the er at 3am?  On New Year’s Eve?  Yes, the pain was so bad it woke her out of a sound sleep.  How is an ear ache an emergency?  Was it falling off?  Bleeding?  Was there brain matter leaking out of it?  No? Then take some motrin, take some tylenol and go back to sleep, and see  your doctor on Tuesday.  It’s not like I’m trying to eavesdrop but it’s a curtain, not a wall people.

     This brings me to my favorite guy of the night.  I didn’t catch his birthdate so couldn’t tell you his age, but if I have to guess it’s close to mine.  He was right after earache girl and he said that he was there because his wife told him he had not one, but 2 seizures the last one about an hour before he came in.  It did leave me to wonder where his wife was that he had to drive himself in.  After further questioning his seizure are now more like blackouts and the real reason he came in became quite clear to me.  Seems for the first time in 4 years he was out of his oxycontin and xanax prescription and was hoping the doctor would write him enough to “get by” to see his family doctor.  If I wasn’t a 7 out of 10 on the pain scale I would have laughed out loud.  It was all I could do not to shout out “Let me know how that works out for you buddy.”  He didn’t get his script, instead he got the er doc telling him he was going to have to make a report of his seizure to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles and was probably going to lose his driving privileges until if could be medically documented that he was seizure free for six months and no, calling it a “black out” was not going to change that.

     Before I could get any more, my icu bed was ready and I was just happy to be getting off that damn gurney.  Happy New Year!

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     Christmas is right around the corner, followed by New Year’s.  It’s this time that I find myself reflecting on this year and thinking of what I want to change for the next one.  There have been so many changes this year, I’ve accomplished more than I thought I would and less than I planned.

     I made my annual pilgrimage to Texas to spend time with my adult children, my granddaughter only to discover that I had more family there than I knew.  I jumped out of an airplane with my daughter and tried sushi for the first time, as well as sake.  I like the sake more than the sushi and like the skydiving way more than the sushi.  I’m pretty sure that I shouldn’t have done both on the same day however.

     I found my worth and value as a human being in Texas.  Given that I seem to be a perpetual patient I didn’t think I had any anymore, but I found out otherwise.  I learned that I still have something of value to offer beyond being sick, and I also learned that how I feel about myself relates to how I’m doing physically.  For the first time while I was in Texas I didn’t have to go to the hospital.

     I also made another trip, this one to New York.  It was my second time there and I learned that I could still travel and have a good time with my family.  I also met Kelsey Grammar and Betty White, that was a hoot.  I also learned not to take my shoes off on the plane because there was no way I was going to get them back on.  I also learned that if I leave my left overs in the hotel room while walking Times Square with Sarah, my husband was going to eat it all, including my cheese cake.

     I don’t know how many times I was in ICU this year, I lost count.  It feels like it might be less than last year and I’m hoping more than next year.

     I lost my best friend this year and I miss her every day.  I also found closure in helping another friend, no daughter find closure in a horrific part of her life and now she is able to put it behind her and move forward.

     I’ve found some friends in the blogosphere and made old friends new again.  I’ve also gotten my sister and her crazy girlfriend out of my house, and if that was the only thing I accomplished, believe me it would be enough.

     What can I say about my husband?  We’ve been together 17 years now and it seems that our love just grows deeper.  He’s sweeter and kinder than ever and I love him.  As my caretaker he has more patience than I give him credit for.

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     I’ve been thinking about the surgery I had when I had the hospital acquired MRSA.  I must have been admitted a good 20 times to my local hospital for IV antibiotics, only to have the infection return within days of  stopping them.

     Finally it was decided to transfer me to a larger hospital with an infectious disease specialist.  She ordered a picc line, had a consult with the surgeon and sent me home doing IV antibiotics for 6 weeks.  Sure enough once the IV drugs were stopped, the infection came back and this time it was the worst that is has ever been.  Instead of Rudy taking me to our local hospital, we went straight to the bigger one where I was promptly admitted.   Around 9pm the surgeon came by with a couple pieces of Godiva chocolate.  He asked if I liked them, which I did,  I devoured them.  When I was done with the last piece he said he was glad I enjoyed them because I was npo from that moment on, he had me scheduled in the OR for first thing in the morning.  He said he wasn’t going to cut that deep, only needed to get rid of the bad tissue and he was going to leave it open to heal from the inside out.  It didn’t sound too bad the way he put it.   When I was in preop, I suggested a local instead of general anesthesia and he said the last thing he needed was me telling him how to operate while he was operating.  I don’t know how he knew me so well.

     I now know I should have never watched “Braveheart” the night of my surgery.  You know that scene at the end where Mel Gibson gets disemboweled ?  Well that’s how I looked.  When they brought me down for hydrotherapy I noticed a poloraid camera on the shelf and I asked someone to take a picture of my incisions.  Well when I saw what the doctor did, I went into a full blown panic attack, the like of which I’ve ever seen or felt before.  In fact they had to give me an injection of valium just to calm me down.  People die from the kind of wounds I had. and I gave consent to this one.  In the end, the surgeon was right and it was the last time I had an infection of my surgical site, though it took almost 2 years for it to completely heal.

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     I think I’m getting my mojo back.  I’m inspired to write more and more.  Time does heal along with knowing that Michelle is in a better place.  I do believe that. 

     My husband just brought me a cup of coffee.  Rudy knows I usually write in the mornings after he leaves for work.  I don’t know how he knew I was getting ready to write now.  It’s something I usually do for him in the mornings to help him get up for work and now he’s brought me a cup of deliciousness that I didn’t even know I needed until it was in my hands.  A small thing, I know but that’s what love is to me.

     We’re going to have the next five days together, celebrating family and the gifts that God has given us and that’s no small thing.  I’m feeling better this week than last and I don’t feel like a trip to the hospital is imminent, and that’s no small thing.  My heart feels full of love and gratitude for the many gifts I’ve been given including the gift of more life to live and believe me, that’s no small thing either.

     We’re living in uncertain times these days, isn’t there a quote that says “May you live in interesting times?”  We certainly are and through it all I can’t help but feel we’re going to be ok come what may.  Challenges ahead, for certain but I have faith in my Lord, and in my small corner of the world.

     I’m seeing the surgeon on the 13th.  This one scares me, but I’m praying for peace of mind, comfort, and the wisdom of the surgeon, that should cover me.

     My daughter Heather is graduating from nursing college soon, with her second bachelors degree.  I’m so proud of her.  Tommy is back in college and working  along with Joey.  Sarah is also in college and working.  Little Rudy is taking a tech class and working really hard to support his family.  I don’t take credit for the success of our children instead I’m humbly grateful for it.

What I’m Thankful For

     I really do have much to be thankful for. God has blessed me with an amazing family.  Statistics show that more women with a chronic illness will be left by their partner than men will.  Rudy tells me that the thought of leaving me never occurs to him.  It is a rare thing these days to have a man of honor in one’s life and it’s not something that I take for granted.  Between Rudy and I we have 5 children that never cease to amaze me, and watching them grow to see the young men and women they’ve become has truly been a privilege.

     I also have a few very close friends that I can count on for anything, in fact in some weird way I could say I’m grateful for the chronic illnesses.  My life has  challenged me and forced me to step outside of my comfort zone.  I’ve learned who my friends are and perhaps just as importantly who my family isn’t.  More on that at another time.  As much as I miss her, I’m so thankful for having Michelle in my life for the short time that I did.   It’s all these  threads that have woven themselves into the tapestry of my life.

Pain is Consuming Me

     I have had the worst week.  This is NOT how I want to live my life.  My back is on fire and it’s getting me angry.  I feel like I’m fighting to have some grace and I’m losing the battle this week, it’s hard not to get discouraged.  My pain has been out of control and I just haven’t been able to get a grip on it.

     I’ve been putting off getting surgery for my 3 herniated discs, I’m so tired of it, and frankly this one scares me.  However, this morning my left leg was completely paralyzed for several hours then I spent several more hours with the worst pins and needles.  It was hard not to cry out loud and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t succeed.  The dilaudid is finally kicking in and I’m starting to feel some relief.

     So this morning I went ahead and made the appointment with the neurosurgeon, I feel like I’m at the end of the road and I just can’t live this way any longer.  I think I’m indulging in some self-pity today and I’m praying for God’s grace to help me get through this.

     I miss Michelle so much, I have to believe that depression must be part of why I’m going through such a hard time with my pain.  Never pass the opportunity to tell someone you love them.  I’m glad I did that with Michelle.

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     I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here, much has happened this past month.  First and foremost I’ve lost my very best friend in the world.  She was only 46 and I feel lost without her.  I ended up going straight from her funeral to the hospital and I’ve only been home a couple of days.  I haven’t much felt like writing.  I’m completely uninspired.  I wrote the eulogy for her funeral and I’m going to reprint it here.  As always thank you for reading and comments are welcome.

    My name is Lynda, but you wouldn’t recognize it if you ever heard Michelle talk about me, you would know me as Queenie, the name she gave me.  I’d like to tell you about my friend.  She was my sister, not by blood, but by our hearts and souls.

     We couldn’t have been more different her and I.  She was a low maintenance woman, and me, well let’s just say not so much.  I am the picture of a high maintenance woman at least that’s what I’m told.  Evidently, I couldn’t pass for low maintenance if I tried.  In fact the people that know me tell me not to even bother.  Let’s face it, she called me the queen for a reason.  I think that’s why we were destined to be friends, we balanced each other.  I’ll always have her with me, because of Michelle I’m a better wife to my husband, a better mother to my children, and a better friend.  I have certain people in my life because of Michelle, her friends became my friends.

      I thought she was a complete flake, but something kept drawing me to her, and the more I got to know her the more I realized how intelligent she was.  Not just intelligent, she had wisdom, the kind of wisdom that comes from living life in a way that’s honest and true.

     I learned so much from her, when Michelle loved you, she loved you for life, and I never knew anyone more open to giving her love, and it didn’t stop there.  If she loved you she took care of you.  She loved my entire family and when I was in the hospital and couldn’t take care of them myself, she stepped in.  My family was her family and they came to love her too.  She was generous with her time and attention always putting other’s needs a head of her own.

     In the short time we had together, I was in and out of the hospital, mostly in.  She was there for every surgery, and every illness.  When I was in a coma, she was in the ER with me, holding my hand.  She was in my home making dinner for my family, because of her I am a better more generous person.   Not 4 months after the coma I was told I had a tumor in my pancreas’s that was undoubtedly cancer.  It was 2 weeks before I could get to the surgeon in Indianapolis.  She called or came by every day, and before too long she took the crucifix from around her neck and put it on mine.  When I protested that she loved it too much to loan it to me she simply said that she loved me more. I’ll always believe that it was Michelle that started the prayer chain that made the surgeon unable to find the tumor to biopsy that he had so clearly seen on the cat scan the day before.  Last year I was sick with a life-threatening infection in my blood stream that required me to be transferred to a hospital in Indianapolis for a week that required yet more surgery and Michelle never left my side.

      I learned humility from Michelle.  Material things simply didn’t matter to her; she was just as content washing the dishes in the bathtub as she was in the kitchen sink.  I, on the other hand required a dishwasher.  If she had a book and her guitar that was all she needed to be happy, that and the many friends and family that she loved so dearly. She had her own room in my house and yet more often than not she would find her in bed with me, up all night laughing and talking and giggling like a couple of teenagers, usually with my husband begging for quiet so he could sleep.

     We spent a day in Chicago at the International Housewares Show.  We figured we walked 20 miles that day, I finally had something I could do for her.  We met our favorite celebrity chefs, they were like rock stars for us.  When we got off the train in Indiana, muscles we didn’t know we had were begging for mercy yet it was one of the best days either one of us ever had,  I can’t tell you what a privilege it was to be a part of “one of her best days ever.”

     In this past year I’d never seen her happier or look more beautiful.  She was living close to her children and spending more time with her mom and was more content than I’d ever known her to be.  All of this is the legacy she left and I, for one will always honor that.  I’ll leave you with this quote about friendship, author unknown:

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Others stay awhile, make footprints on our hearts and we are never, ever the same.”