An Aside


Just need to get some stuff off my chest. Upon examining my newly amputated leg. I learned that I have a BKA which stands for below the knee amputation. I named my amputation nubby and determined that its gender was male. I also decided that BKA stands for bring knee to attention. My knee would stand at attention whenever he wanted to. One of my nurses told me I now know what it feels like to be a man, still scratching my head on that one.

When one of my nurses came to change the bandages I told her that I named my right leg nubby and that he was male. She took offense to nubby being male. She reached over christened my left leg Anita. So I asked her if nubby and Anita got together could they make little nubbettes. This was the last offence she could take so she left my room.

Now having nubby and Anita led me to my knock knock joke.

Knock knock

Who’s there

Anita

Anita who

Anita new leg.

Hardy har har

Moving on my husband knows how hard I worked to lose weight. Those last 10 pounds being the hardest. Greg is in the room with me when the doctor tells us they removed about 10 pounds of leg. Greg turned around and said there are better ways to lose weight. We are not going to just lop off body parts to help me lose weight. I started laughing and couldn’t quit laughing so I had to put my oxygen on.

I told Greg that socks would be a good invest for me. He gave me a strange look and asked why? I replied because they would now last twice as long. To which I got the look, you know the look husbands give wives when they are at a loss for words but want you to know they are annoyed.

If you have any jokes you would like to add feel free to add them.

May God wrap you in his peace and keep you close to his heart.

sarah

The arrival of Sarah


Sarah is my cousin from Ohio who I have loved like a sister from the first time I saw her in the airport holding a homemade sign welcoming me to Ohio for the first time. When she heard what I was going through she volunteered to come to Texas and stay with me a while. I am so excited that she is coming and a little sad because I am in the hospital. I told Greg that when he picks Sarah up from the airport to feed her, take her home let her rest and then bring her to see me. She tells Greg that he is to take her straight to the hospital. I am talking a little but not a whole lot. I am so excited to have Sarah here she is my partner in crime. She comes to the hospital every day. Sarah did really wonderful things like bring me pintos and cheese from taco bell. She would also fix me diet coke without thickener and hide the evidence when a nurse would come in.

She would also read to me which would calm me. She would make sure the nurses were on top of their game so my ambulance ride the hyperbaric chamber went off in a timely manner. The chamber is my favorite part of the day. I am locked in a tube and no one can bother me. Another highlight of the chamber is I can watch movies.

This next part is a bit of advice for people in the same situation. Now anyone who walks into the hyperbaric room can see what movie you are watching but you are the only one who can here the movie. I put in a movie that sounded good it was called love actually. Well one of the couples in the movie is standing in for porn stars. Get this mental picture I am laying in my little tube when a nekkid man and nekkid women are making the motions of having sex. As this is playing out and I am trying to hide under my blanket the Doctor walks in showing his hyperbaric room. He is walking backwards so he doesn’t see what is playing out on the screen but everyone else can see. The Christian girl is watching simulated porn in public. The lesson here is know your movie before you put it in. From now on when in doubt watch second hand lions.

PS
naked = no clothes on
nekkid=no clothes on and is up to something

o

The Chamber

My mother in law has gone home and I am spending my days by myself. Greg comes in after work and stays with me most of the evening. Physical therapy has not assessed me so the nurses will not move me. I am confined to bed which is okay until I have to go to the bathroom. They have brought me a bedside commode but I am not allowed to put any pressure on either of my feet. I am trying to explain to the nurse via notecards and sign language that I have to go. I am doing the potty dance in my bed. Greg gets to the hospital and I get across to him that I have to go and it is now a potty emergency. He gets the nurse and she is standing in the door way explaining how they are not going to touch me until PT assesses me. While she is still talking Greg comes over scoops me out of bed, carries me over and places me on the toilet. Oh, what sweet relief!


I still can’t talk but my doctor tells me they are going to down size my trach which will make it easier for me to eat and will allow me to talk. The smaller trash will also allow me to start hyperbaric oxygen treatment. My trach is downsized I now have a very raspy weak voice.
 I go to my first hyperbaric treatment, they tell me it is like taking off in an airplane. I will have to get my ears to pop to equalize something. Well, that is all fine in theory but if you have ever had a trach you know every time you go to blow your nose it blows out your neck. This can also be a lot of fun. Burping through your neck is a really funky experience and I have hocked my best loogie ever. It had height and distance every golfers dream. It flew out of my neck and landed on the wall next to my TV.

Okay I have gotten sidetracked, my first hyperbaric treatment I can’t equalize and I get the worst headache that will not go away. I am on pretty strong painkillers, but they are not working on my headache. Late that evening my pulmonologist comes to see me asks how I am doing I tell him about my headache, he says he write something for it.
 I now make up every excuse I can come up with to not go back to the hyperbaric chamber. They decide that I need tubes in my ears or my trach removed. I get both my trach is capped which makes it a lot easier to talk but harder to breath. The problem with having my trach removed is there is still a gaping hole in my neck. I still can’t build up pressure to pop my ears. So I get tubes in my ears I now have no excuse for not going to The Chamber. The hyperbaric chamber is a long clear tube with stretcher like bed very thin mattress NOT comfortable. Getting you in the chamber is a process you have to have a hospital gown or scrubs. Right before you go in you have to be grounded to the chamber so you don’t catch on fire while you are in there. There is no emergency release you have to be brought out gradually or you could get the bends like a scuba diver. There are no potty breaks! They give you a bottle of water which I can’t have because I am on honey thick liquids. I get a blanket, a pillow for head and one for my butt. They put you in and put on a movie of your choice. This becomes my favorite part of the day, I know for 2 hours I will not be poked, prodded, harassed or even talked to. I am in my own little world for 2 hours.

The rise of Nubby.

Now I am living completely inside my head because I can’t talk. I am not sure what to call my amputated leg. I learned the technical term is stump. I decided that his name was nubby. So when I was thinking about things I always referred to my right leg as nubby. This strange phenomenon is occurring with nubby, I wake up and he is standing straight up. Now being who I am there is a lot of room for humor that I can’t share with anyone. People would come to visit and I would be either laughing or crying and unable to explain why.

 The hospital decides I need long term care so I am being transferred out. Because I have a trach I can’t go straight to rehab. I have to go to an acute care center. The one Greg chooses for me is select specialty hospital. He has toured the hospital and assures me it is nice. The thought of being transferred really scares me. I can’t convey my fear very well so once again I am in tears. I was told once that tears were God’s way of cleaning our eyes. Let me tell you my eyes are very clean. I am being transferred via ambulance. I always wanted to know what it was like to ride in an ambulance, Not very exciting or comfortable. Greg goes ahead of me and meets me at the new hospital.

 This is the darkest time for me. Wound care comes to change my bandages and I get the first real good look at my left foot. All my toes are black and except for my big toe most of my foot is black with gangrene. I am told I am lucky that it is the dry gangrene which means it won’t spread. I don’t believe in luck, thank you Jesus. I can’t stand to look at my foot so I have them wrap it all the way up. When I look at my foot I really don’t handle it very well. It just looks like death to me.


I am on a puree diet. You really haven’t lived until you have looked at a plate of food and you can’t make out what it used to be and the smell makes you want to vomit. The only meal I really eat is breakfast. It is hard to mess up cream of wheat. I would lie in bed at night and cry to the sound of my stomach growling. Needless to say I lose a lot of weight; I weigh the same as I did in Jr. High. When you are down to nothing but God you realize He is all you need.

The long road to recovery

My mother in love Alicemae has made for me these 3 by 5 cards on a binder with important words or phrases on them. Stuff like yes, no, hungry, thirsty, pain meds, bed pan, barf bucket, suction. These index cards gave me a way to communicate. The nurses relied on them as much as I did. I am in my hospital room getting settled in. This is when Greg went back to work for those of you doing the math Greg has not been back to work for about 3 weeks. Greg’s company has been so good to us.


They come in to take me to my swallow test. I am taken down to a part of radiology on a stretcher which means you get parked in a hall way until they are ready for you. Finally my turn, I am wheeled in propped up so they can see the path that the food takes once it leaves my mouth. Now this is where stuff just gets gross, so GROSS ALERT. In order for the technician to see the path the food takes they cover the food with barium. First they start with water, water why don’t they just ask me to drink barium. Next apple juice mixed with barium, then mashed potatoes with barium, from there hamburger meat covered with barium and lastly barium covered chicken fried steak. All I can taste is the barium and it is heavy in my mouth. I just wanted to vomit and I almost did. Needless to say I fail my swallow test. Liquid diet and the liquids have to be honey thick. I am not happy.

Trying to get clarity

Trying to get clarity


I am in and out of sleep all day. I am still sure that my husband has left me; why else would he spend so little time with me. I had no idea that you can only visit people in ICU for 5 minutes at a time. I also had no concept of how many people were waiting to see me or how long they had been waiting. All I knew was Greg was ushering people in to see me and not staying with them.

Shift changes from day shift to night shift. Night nurse comes in to check my vitals; he tells me I am running a fever. He goes on to say that if I am running a fever I can’t be moved from ICU to a regular room. He then wraps my neck my wrists and my thighs with cold wet wash rags. At first this feels good, but it quickly degrades from good to chicken zit chilly. So naturally I start to remove all the cold rags. He takes the cold rags off just to make them colder and replace them on my body. I start to take them off again; he puts them back on and explains that if I am running a fever then I can’t be transferred out of ICU. I shrug my shoulders and try to pantomime why doesn’t he just give me something to break my fever. I am not sure if he understood my wild gesturing but he keeps talking and tells me if he ordered something for my fever, I would then have to spend another 24 hours in ICU. So the night is spent with me falling asleep then waking up to really cold rags being placed on my body. My fever comes down.

 The next morning is spent preparing me to transfer to a regular hospital room. I am starving I can’t remember the last time I ate. Greg shows up that morning with a tropical punch drink. I make him give me some. That is the best tasting tropical punch I have ever had. I want more and the nurse tells me no. I try to ask when I get to eat. Someone finally figures this out and says they will ask. Okay good enough for now. The speech therapist comes by to explain to me that I have to pass a swallow test in order to eat. The earliest they can schedule one is for tomorrow. No food or liquid till after the swallow test. I didn’t think they could do it but they just came up with a new form of torture. Not only was having the trake cleaned one of the most painful things on the planet but also because of my trake I couldn’t talk or eat. Throwing hands up in the air in complete defeat, I cry once again. I get moved into my new hospital room. I am trying to get Greg alone, the closest I get is me Greg and my mother in law Alicemae.



This is when I discover that my right hand is pretty much frozen up. I take a sharpie and a legal pad and try to ask Greg if he is angry with me. I can’t write with my right hand and my left hand is shaking so bad that nothing is legible. I finally get down on paper that I am scared. Greg says that is understandable and asks what am I scared of. I swallow hard how I can put everything I am feeling down on a legal were it can be understood. What am I scared of: that I will never walk again, that you will never look at me the same way again, that I will never get to go home again, that you don’t love me anymore, that you will leave me. What I finally get down on paper, I am scared that you will leave me. Greg laughs out loud this half laugh half sigh of relief. Alicemae asks what’s so funny and Greg shows her what I wrote and she laughs too. I look at both of them, Greg takes my hand and says he will never leave me; this is just something we have to get through. I am crying again but this time tears of Joy and relief. Greg sits down on the side of my bed and asks me if I am angry with him. I shake my head no and ask y. He said he was scared that I would be mad at him over the amputation. I just shake my head no and lay my head in his lap. What I could not convey with my very limited communication skills is that I trust him. He always puts me first and makes the best possible decisions where I am concerned and that I love him very much and need him now more than ever. What I get on the legal pad, No mad luv u. He smiles and hugs me this time he is crying too.

PS Some of ya'll have read this and then sent me an email on what you were feeling.  It is okay to post your feelings in the comment section.

The 2 and half weeks I don’t Remember

The 2 and half weeks I don’t Remember




I really feel like I went to sleep on that stretcher on January 14th and woke up on February 3rd in the hospital. I remember looking at the dry erase board thinking there had to be some kind of mistake. I am jumping way ahead so let me tell you what I remember. Wow, this is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I mainly remember that I was desperate for Greg and I wanted to see my mom. I am trying to start a sentence with something other then I remember. The next thing I recall is Pam in my room and she is talking to me and I am trying to stay awake. She brushes my hair and I was really thankful that someone remembered to brush my hair it tangles really easy.

Oh I want to mention that these next 2 ½ weeks are in no particular order. Every time I try to put them in some kind of order I get confused and lost. Next well maybe not next but at one time Leasa, Ellen, Alice and Michelle were in my room and I was in so much pain. The kind of pain that doesn’t let you rest or have any kind of peace. They were trying to get me to relax. Ellen gave me her hand and said its okay you can squeeze it and I did. Every once in while Michelle would appear and give me something to drink. Leasa was massaging my head and face while Alice sang the Emily mix of hymns that she would sing for her daughter. In-between people being around me there was mixture of pain and sadness. Pain that was so intense inwardly I would pray that God would take me home while outwardly begging for someone to just cut off my legs. Lady’s from my church came and prayed over me and I tried to concentrate on their words but there were too many drugs in my system for me to concentrate on anything.

The first real memory I have of being in the hospital is waking up in ICU and Greg telling me he was leaving which I took to mean he was leaving me and not the hospital. I closed my eyes to cry and saw demons swirling above my head. I opened my eyes and it was dark in my room I closed my eyes again and saw the demons. Then Greg came back and said someone wanted to see me. It was my friend Tina, she asked how I doing (this is when I discovered I could not talk) I tried to answer but nothing came out. She asked if she could pray for me and I nodded yes. Tina put her hands on my arm and she prayed and then she left. I noticed two very large figures standing behind me on either side of the bed. I very timidly asked the figure directly behind me,” What kind of man are you”? The figure answered “I am not a man, I am Jesus and this is not about you it is about spiritual warfare. “ I looked over to the other figure and Jesus said “I have sent my angel to protect you” then he disappeared but the angel remained. I closed my eyes and the demons were gone and in their place were an over whelming sense of peace and comfort. I was able to rest not just rest but sleep.

Sometime later in the middle of the night I realized my leg was gone. I panicked and I couldn’t talk I had a trake in my neck because they had a hard time incubating me. I was wild it felt like the bandage on my stump was cutting off circulation to my leg and I couldn’t communicate what I feeling. My night nurse finally realizes what I am trying to say. She says the bandage is not too tight. I insist that it is too tight seeing my growing panic she pulls the sheet down slides the bandage off of my stump and says see not too tight. I am stunned my right leg has been amputated below the knee. I lay back down I realize I am sweating, I try to speak and nothing I can’t talk all I can do is cry. I want my mom I swear I hear her in the waiting room. I want the nurse to check, but the nurse is trying to calm me down. I refuse to calm down I know my mom is here she wouldn’t let me go through something like this without her. As best as I can without being able to speak I demand to see my mom. Once again she gives me a baffled look and says it is the middle of the night. I start crying again and they put enough of something in my IV to knock me out. The next morning the nurse comes in to do vitals and change my bandages. She is happily singing along to an Amy Grant CD Greg has playing. She starts to change the bandage around my trake. The skin around the trake is just raw. Every time she touches it, it is torture. She cleans around my trake actually scrubbing some places the pain is excruciating and all I can do is cry.