Okay so I don’t remember much about being in ICU. I was not stable and my heart continued to set off alarms I might have developed some PTSD from those monitors. Every time they went off I worried what was wrong with me. Sometimes an electrode had just fallen off.
I was able to see my ex wife, my sweet daughter Bella, and Stephanie. My parents who winter in Florida were ready to hop on the next flight but I asked them not to come. I was with the people I loved and needed not that I don’t love my parents dearly it is just I needed to rest and anymore people added would not be good for me. I was scared to death now of myself and my body. My heart really stopped. More than once. I vividly remember most of the ER until I think they had to shock me. I was so dazed, confused and had no clue as to what day it was or what time it was. I had no appetite so once again with all the wires, tubes, lines running all through me, an NG-feeding tube was inserted through my nose. Brilliant is what I said when I got that news. I wanted to cry but I had no tears. My emotions to everything were sort of suspended in animation.
Days went by and slowly but surely my body started to stabilize itself. The monitors hardly went off, but the medications I was taking were taking me away. I felt so altered. Not quite sure how to better describe it. I was different. I felt different. I was different. Death, the idea, the reality had shown up in grand fashion. I needed tests to determine the damage to my heart but I needed to be stable. Finally, it was 7 days since the attack I was moved to the cardiac unit where I was the youngest by 30 years. I wasn’t planning on spending a lot of time there. Stephanie was the best friend I could ever ask for-she never once left my side. I realized how much I loved her and how I would always keep that to myself. I mean I told her I loved her because I did love her as a friend, but I really was in love with her beyond friendship. I spent 10 days on the cardiac unit and had all kinds of tests done and of course I had the feeding tube.
It was a January 18th, that I got the okay to return home with strict limitations and a script for a visiting nurse. My activity levels were completely leveled and I had to stay on the first floor of my place. Stairs were to be done very minimally. Stephanie had gone to the pharmacy and picked up all my scripts. We drove home and that is when I cried. I cried hard, I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. Stephanie just held my hand and squeezed it every so often. I had no idea where to begin with my life. However, I was limited to only my primary care and cardiology appointments for two weeks. I worried about Radical Will. Stephanie made phone calls and got both Amber my nutritionist and Pam my ED therapist to do phone appointments with me. I was so grateful for that, she had no idea.
I wanted to get to a place where I could go weigh myself. Stephanie was getting the guest bedroom all set up for us to move into. I was supposed to have help when I undressed or bathed, so I asked Stephanie if she could help me get my clothes off so I could weigh myself. We finally got me down to my underwear and I stepped onto the scale. It was down 7 pounds in total even with having the feeding tube. I really needed to talk to Pam. I wasn’t fucking around with this illness anymore. It was trying to kill me; I was close and I was petrified.
BORN THIS WAY-2016