Moving Through the Pain

Hello! How are ya now? Good and you? For those of you who regularly follow my blog, you may have noticed my nearly 3 month hiatus. There’s a lot to catch you up on, so let’s get crack a lackin’!

Back in February I had surgery on both eyes due to cataracts that formed as a result of the high doses of prednisone I have been on. Just another reason to hate this GD prednisone! I swear. 🙄 My cataracts formed in the center of my eyes and grew very rapidly, affecting my entire field of vision. The surgeries went off without a hitch, but I was left with such blurry vision afterwards that I couldn’t read, drive, or use the computer. So that meant no blogging until I could get glasses. I had to wait 6 weeks to get my glasses prescription because my eyes had to fully heal from the surgeries. Once I got my glasses, it took me a few more weeks to get adjusted to seeing through them since they’re trifocals.

Right after I got my glasses, my grandmother’s health declined to the point where the family decided it was time for hospice to come in and help make her as comfortable as possible. She passed one week later on April 27th. She was the one blood relative that I had the closest relationship with. It broke my heart not being able to visit with her over the last couple of years due to my poor health. We would talk on the phone whenever we could during this time, but it wasn’t the same. I was now struggling with figuring out if I could attend Mommom’s funeral and pay respect to her without jeopardizing my health and safety. After talking with my doctors, they gave me permission to travel the 3 hours in each direction so I could attend her funeral as long as I took the precautions they strongly recommended.

The discomfort and awkwardness people often feel towards grief has given rise to many platitudes. Personally, I don’t like it when people tell me, “Everything happens for a reason” or ‘It’s God’s will.” While I believe the person has good intentions, I don’t believe that time heals all things and that everything always ends up being fine. While I am learning to bear the weight of my grief of losing Mommom, I will never “get over it.”

Words don’t seem sufficient enough to express how much I I love and miss Mommom. She was the epitome of a strong, feisty, and graceful woman. Our bond is so special and it means so much to me that she and G have such a wonderful relationship too. She didn’t allow many people to cook in her kitchen, but she allowed him because he can “pick a bird clean” and “mash potatoes right.” I will always remember her unconditional love, her smile, our Yahtzee games, and family dinners at her house.

My brother, Mommom, Poppop, and me (1985)

Me in my wedding dress with Mommom (2004)

Less than a week after Mommom’s funeral I suffered an anaphylactic reaction. On G’s birthday of all freakin’ days. 😒 Less than an hour after arrival to the hospital, I was intubated and placed on the ventilator. This time was scarier than previous times because G wasn’t allowed inside the hospital with me due to COVID restrictions. Plus, during the intubation I was paralyzed but aware of the breathing tube going down my throat. AGAIN. This same thing happened to me in 2019. I was trying my damnedest to move any body part to alert the doctors but no success. Two days later I awoke in the ICU gagging on the tube in my throat. I wanted that somebitch OUT! The sedation had been turned off in order to test if I could breathe on my own, but I kept failing that test. The doctors just left me gagging on the tube for hours with no sedation. I kept writing on the dry erase board they gave me how pissed off I was with them and that I wanted the tube out. Several hours later, I finally passed the breathing test and the tube was removed.

At this point I wanted to contact G and let him know what’s going on but I couldn’t find my cell phone. It wasn’t in my hospital room. I also realized that my backpack with my medical supplies, shoes, and clothes were missing too. I told my nurse and doctors about all of my missing items and I was given the bullshit response of “sometimes these things happen.” No assholes. 🤬 I was knocked out in the Emergency room without being given the opportunity to secure my belongings. You didn’t allow my husband inside to secure my belongings either. So what the fuck did you do with my shit? At this point I am LIVID. I want to leave. I didn’t feel safe there. Not just because of my missing stuff. But also because they hadn’t given me any of my daily medications since I had been in the hospital, they blew my veins all to hell trying to get IV access and blood gas labs, and the traumatic events of being paralyzed during the intubation and gagging on the breathing tube for hours without sedation. I insisted on leaving and coming home where I could better manage my health care. Multiple doctors tried to convince me to stay but I refused out of concern for my own safety. I told the doctors that I would need an EpiPen to leave the hospital since my missing backpack contained my EpiPen. I was told they would have the pharmacy fill an EpiPen for me so I had to wait for that before I could go home.

My right arm one week after multiple IV lines and lab draws

My left arm one week after multiple IV lines and lab draws

As G is nearly to the hospital to pick me up, the doctor comes in to my room and asks me to have my husband bring an EpiPen from home because she claimed their pharmacy wouldn’t dispense an EpiPen for me. Now I was out of fucks with these people. Hell I was fuck bankrupt at that point. So I had to call G and ask him to turn around and go home to get an EpiPen for me so I could leave this hell hole. An hour later, G arrives with an EpiPen to take me home-with no cell phone, shoes, backpack with medical supplies, or clothes I wore to the hospital. G had been in contact with security about my missing items but no one had been able to locate any of them by the time I left the hospital. A few days later (after several phone calls, emails, and a social media posting) ALL of my missing items were found and returned to me. Thankfully I have been slowly recovering and improving since I left the hospital with my home breathing treatments and medications.

So there’s the 411 on what’s been going on in my neck of the woods these last few months. Now that I can see with my glasses and I am moving through the pain of losing Mommom and my hospitalization, I am looking forward to blogging again. I hope that you will join along for more delicate and brutal tidbits! 😃