Sunday, May 20, 2012

A HOSPITAL KIND OF TORTURE

WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGES may not be suitable for sensitive viewers

The reason I haven't posted in a while is because I got put into the hospital for 7-8 days this month, and it was....well, it was an experience.

I've been having asthma and breathing-related illnesses ALL YEAR LONG.  Seriously.  I was sick for 2 weeks in January (while on vacation).  I got sick the first week of February (first week of a new job), and then remained sick all the way through April!  Just a really bad chest cold.  Just couldn't completely get rid of that chest congestion.  It got better for a few weeks, but then the breathing trouble began.  I had to think about every breath I took.  Every day was a struggle just to walk to the car, walk through work and get home in the middle of the day.  It was exhausting.  One day I just told the Fuzband to take me to the hospital, the doctor, somewhere, anywhere because I just couldn't breathe right.  I had tried every medication that was stashed away, I had been living from inhaler puff to inhaler puff, and now the inhaler just wasn't working anymore.

We stopped by my doctor's office (who wasn't taking walk in's right then), so we just went straight to the ER, figuring that any Urgent Care Facility was going to send us there anyway, and wanting to cut out that annoying step of the process.  The entire time I was not in danger of suffocating or anything, I was myself.  In fact I was chipper, cheerful, and a little too well-seeming for an Emergency Room.  But when they ran my oxygen levels, they were low (like 88 or so) and subsequent breathing treatments were not raising the levels.  I was in the ER for 5 hours before they decided that after 3 breathing treatments, steroids, and gods-know-what-else that I needed to be hospitalized until my oxygen level could be raised successfully.

I got the cool Plastic Mustache...


I got cool Robot Legs...







I got CUTE visitors...






And then....

FIVE OR SIX DAYS WENT BY.  With barely any improvement.
My attitude quickly went from Positively Bubbly & Happy to be Getting Help
- to -
GET ME THE F^@$ OUT OF THIS PLACE - IT'S. TORTURE.

Physically, Mentally, Emotionally....

The plastic tube for oxygen kept scabbing the inside of my nose which was slightly painful and annoying.  The Robot Legs eventually rubbed my skin raw, and scabbed my legs.  The anti-clotting shots that they gave I-Don't-Even-Know-How Often completely bruised my entire belly raw, and the muscles are so sore they are still in physical pain - And I got OUT Five Days ago!

I really don't want to show these, but I think it's necessary.  The bruises hurt SO bad and I actually started REFUSING these shots because of what they were doing to my belly.  I am super embarrassed and ashamed of my belly at the moment, and it's very hard to get pictures, but it's THAT RIDICULOUS - see?  The ENTIRE belly is black and purple with bruises.  Painful painful bruises.


(that's just another ghastly bruise,
there were so many from IVs and blood-drawing)


Although, there were *some* nice moments...

The family and friends who were there, every day, asking how I was,
bringing real food from the real world.  Showing their support and love -
in those moments were something really wonderful.  Something that you take with you for the rest of your life.  Those are the real eye-opening moments, and the times where you feel more loved than ever.

There was also Rainbow LadyBug Stickers from one of the smallest visitors....

A surreal imagination & fun camera phone app...



Taking pictures of the window & the sky....
 



And a sleeping Fuzband by my side....


Awwww... what a guy....
(he stayed with me every night,
slept in that awful recliner)

(He also still worked 10 hour shifts over the weekend,
and took care of our 2 dogs that needed to be fed and taken out twice a day.
Seriously, he's The MAN.)

There was one day, near the end of the Hospital Torture visit -
Where he woke me up quickly but apologetically, and I was so confused!
And he said "I'm Sorry!  Good Morning!  But there's a rainbow..." and pointed outside where it was gray and rainy and gloomy....
But there WAS a rainbow, and I saw it, and then it dissipated within the next 60 seconds.  He didn't even have time to get out his phone to take a picture and it was gone.  
But he woke me up first...and I got to see it...and it was completely worth it.

And still, the thought of this squishy face:
would completely melt me to tears, I wanted to go home so bad.

On the last day, I turned into a crazy person.  I packed up everything in my entire room, I folded up all the towels and put on real clothes.  I told the unfamiliar nurses that I Would NOT Be Paying To Stay In A Hospital Bed ONE MORE NIGHT....and roughtly 12 hours later was FINALLY RELEASED.


And of course there is quite a lot more to the story, but that is not for here, not for this blog, and perhaps not for Never thinking of Ever again....

I hope that if you or anyone you know has to be hospitalized for an extended period of time, that you are as blessed and fortunate as I was to have such loving and compassionate friends and family.  Little visits, love, and even the littlest present goes the longest way for someone when they are stripped of their home and their familiarities, poked and prodded with painful needles, woken every four hours around the clock for days on end....

I'm just glad it's over.  I'm going to take care of my asthma now.  No more waiting for an "attack" or "flare-up" - just good ol' maintenance of healthy lungs from now on.


Love and Deep Clean Breaths,
Misses Lungstache



1 comment:

  1. "I'm sorry! Good Morning! But there's a rainbow..." Hahahaha! Chris is awesome.

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