
I know I have always ranted away on this blog how I always have to do everything alone, and that I'm lonely sometimes and blah, blah, blah. This week, I was blessed to be able to put that into perspective.
Last weekend, I started getting a pain in my back. Now believe me, I'm used to pain in my back, problem brushed aside. The next day it started to spread into my legs. I get the odd case of sciatica due to my back, problem brushed aside. By Tuesday I had a pain in my backside that I had not had before, a very nasty, very acute pain. However, I tend not to look after myself. Problem brushed aside.
By Wednesday it was becoming very painful to even move, and even getting into my car was a Herculean effort. Not only that, something was growing back there. Still, I just chalked it up to a man getting old thing and put it off. Thursday I had a meeting in the morning that during which, I almost passed out on several occasions from the pain. I finally left and went to a local clinic.
You can always tell by a doctor's first reaction what's going on, and Yikes!! isn't a good one. I won't go into the gory details, but imagine something that is like a step below flesh eating disease about the size of a tennis ball right where the sun don't shine. He wanted me on medication right away (but as always in my case nothing for the pain, pointless anyhow because I never take it), and lined me up for surgery on Saturday morning.
Thursday night was hell. And I knew first thing in the morning it was hospital or bust. I can take pain like no one and I had tears just streaming down my face (like I had just watched Love Actually ;) I somehow got myself in my car and went.
I always have this horrible guilt when I go to emergency. It's not like I go often, maybe every 8 years or so, but I just don't feel I belong there. I stood around patiently, and even asked for a few people to go before me. They really didn't know what my problem was through triage. They finally got me through to a bed and after waiting about an hour for the doctor, full on code red.
The damn thing was about the size of a banana now. He was like my boy, you are heading for surgery now!!
I really hadn't planned any of this out. My car was in two hour parking, and this was full bore. They were knocking me out for undetermined amount of time and the whole thing. They were pumping me full of drugs at the time that I wasn't really aware of and everything was just chaos. Blood tests, filling out forms, and on and on. They kept saying "where is your spouse? Where is your family? Do you have any friends you can call?" My mind was just swirling.
They were getting me hooked up for the knock out drugs (I was still making business calls. I know, stupid) and they said you have 5 minutes to ditch that phone, get somebody here!! I tried a handful of people and either couldn't get through or they were busy. I thought my mother was in Mexico, but I decided I would throw one hail mary and left her a message.
They grabbed my phone and asked me to lay down. The last thing I remember before they put me out was thinking to myself "My God, I'm alone." and that was it, lights out. I hadn't been knocked out for surgery in 30 years and could not remember whatsoever what it was like. But I can't describe the fear I felt when I came to. I was just in this deeply drug induced state of loneliness. It was probably one of the worst scenario's of my life waiting to for those drugs to wear off.
They never really wore off until later last night. But at one point, the fog finally cleared and standing in the doorway of my room was my mother. For whatever devine reason she had decided to change days for the trip. I really, really, don't know what I would have done without her. I was just lost, and so incredibly emotionally unstable. Her boyfriend had driven my car home (no ticket amazingly enough after 9 hours.) She took care of everything I needed, everything I wasn't capable of.
I still feel bad because she has been under so much pressure lately as it is, and I know this will ruin her trip (she literally just called me 2 minutes ago saying she should cancel). Besides the fact she has already spent far too many times with me in the emergency room. Whether it be snakes bites, turtle bites, crashed go-Karts, or barroom brawls, she has always shown up and God bless her for it. There is no way in hell I am letting her cancel this trip, and I'm pretty certain I will be sending her on another to make up for it.
As for me, I have a long road ahead. I have to be in the hospital every day until at least Tuesday getting IV's and heart monitoring (apparently the infection messed up my heart rate), and of course to get the hole in my backside packed. It won't be small enough to stitch for at least a couple of weeks. And most likely I will have to have surgery again by the end of the month.
In hindsight what I learned lying in that bed yesterday and today, is that no matter what I endure, there is always a harder story. Probably right across from me behind those medical curtains. And maybe, just maybe, I'm not as alone as I thought.
