Monday, September 13, 2010

girl vs. MICU

Been absent from blogging for 5 whole weeks.  I know, I know. I have let you down. I better have a good excuse-  unconsciously kidnapped by Russian spies and whisked away by thieves wearing Nixon masks.  [Tangent: That would have been far to practical, although it might have scored me my own episode of 48 Hours Mystery.]  Instead I was unconsciously taken into a car by my loved ones and whisked away by doctor's wearing surgical masks. [See...not as fun!]

At 11:30 pm on August 7, I was out with my sister, my best friend, her boyfriend and my other friends at Sportsman's.  Last I recall I was sitting, talking to my friend at the bar when I began having trouble breathing. All my many visitors in the hospital asked the same thing: "What happened?" The most irksome thing about this whole unintentional stay-cation is that I have no idea what happened. I do know when they did the X-ray at the ER (which I don't really recall because I went limp on the way there, but was told later) that I had aspiration pneumonia and a collapsed lung. What came first- the liquid or the lung? The world may never know.  Everyone, including my doctors, have their own theories.

But, while spending 2 days at Williamson Medical, 3 weeks in Vandy's MICU (that's Medical Intensive Care for those not as acclimated to hospitals as I am) and almost 2 weeks at a medical rehab center, I came to a startling and kinda egotistical conclusion about myself : I AM A BADASS. [Tangent: I know this is a very narcissistic statement, but for those of you that read my fear blog- you know I am scared of a lot of ridiculous things that have maybe a .1% chance of harming me.  I was pretty much in the lion's den, and I didn't stop to worry or get scared of this huge thing that was a 100% threat to me. I knew I was going to get better,despite chest tubes and trach tubes and tubes in every orifice.]

Amid all this, I feel like I found commonality with someone I admire, maybe even one-upped them. As a lifetime fan and stalker-from-a- distance from my outdoorsy Euro boyfriend Bear Grylls,  I may have trumped him in badassery. Truth be told I have never had to eviscerate a camel and then sleep inside his empty carcass or eat larvae for sustenance like my Man, who likes to go Vs. Wild. However, I have had to endure the following things which I dare my boy Bear to endure on his show and that I never want to revisit:
  • Having tube feedings for 2.5 weeks [which means a honey-mustard like substance going up a tube up your nose and into your belly,  and not being able to eat actual savory deliciousness liquid or solid] while your friends and family eat McDonalds
  • Due to the glory of being intubated, not being able to speak for 3 weeks, other than things jotted down on dry erase boards or words exchanged via the ancient art of lip reading. This included being in the same room with your brother for the first time in 8 months, and not being able to say hello.
  • Being tied to a bed, even though I had no intention of putting up a fight- I am a 85 lb girl with MD....really medical professionals??? REALLY?!?!? [Big ups to my night nurse that finally untied me day 4.]
  • Having to make the really difficult decision to get a temporary tracheotomy [which means a little throat hole] despite being vehemently against it. 
  • Not conventionally showering for 4 weeks or shaving. [I know-TMI.]
  • Hating drugs, yet being on so many that you can barely move and are hallucinating to the point that you are seeing babies by your bedside and horses made out of spaghetti in the corner. To many this would be a plus- not to me. 
  • Finally getting the OK to drink liquids and having the ugly adjective "Thickened" added before it on my medical orders. This means adding thickener so your beverage is motor oil consistency [Tangent: To be honest- thickened water wasn't half bad. Thickened Coke was. ]
  • Having a needle injected in your back and then seeing that about a half a liter of liquid the color and consistency of apple juice had been removed.
  • Having no cable. Yeah...I said it. That sucked.
I'm on the mend and all of these things are now remedied [including shaving which was order of business #1]. No new accessories that I didn't have on Aug 7 at 11:29 pm had to be added to my menagerie of durable medical equipment. Praise baby jesus, Jah, Allah,  Buddha, Vishnu, Scientology guy....and anyone else that had a hand in that.

I could have written my bold return to blogging a couple weeks ago once the hallucinogenic drugs were no longer being ordered, however I didn't know where to begin. I do know though, this is where I will end...until tomorrow...barring a medical emergency. Too soon?


  1. When you look up BADASS in the dictoionary there is a picture of YOU!! I heart you!!!

  2. I would thank Scientology Guy, too. But Tom Cruise never returns my phone calls anymore.

  3. Also the spoke of Hollywood, where Hollywood writers seemed to put a gay person on every single sit-com and at least one scene or character in every single movie - stating that wasn't right because there just are not that many gay citizens in our country by proportion. Then they spoke of the ""gay agenda" in our politics in Washington DC, in our entertainment manufacturing, at our college campuses, and claiming that the GLBT crowd was preying on adolescents who are going through their own hormonal awakenings, thus, in a way brainwashing them as they are confused about the changes in their own bodies.


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