Music's Like a Snuggie for Your Soul

MUSIC'S LIKE A SNUGGIE FOR YOUR SOUL

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Bewildered (Part Dos)

Yes, I've been less-than-happy waking up with a catheter of the non-IV variety. (You can't win with me.) But, while invasive, and certainly not my preference over 'neither of the above', (see the end of Bewildered pt. 1), it doesn't suggest negligence. I did a stint at this hospital a couple of years ago. I intended to post about it, but it was sort of traumatic and I swore to myself, I was never going back. 

Pardon while I hold the phone for a moment here and hip skizzle to a couple of points I could've/should've included earlier. Was there a precipitating event? Not really. Part of me wishes I'd smoked an ounce of meth or something so as to have something greater to implicate. My best guess is that I'd reduced my CBD/cannabis intake slightly for financial reasons several weeks prior. It seemed a fairly trivial amount, but fat soluble substances could take that long to fluctuate significantly, theoretically (?)...

Also, there's my new boat. I did get her out on the water a time or two before the rug was pulled, but gah. I need to come up with a better name because Jinxie is in my head, and what a terrible name for a water craft. Isn't she pretty? (Never mind the fennel sprig in the back.)



It's all a bit unnerving. I wake up in the Neuro ICU and I'm tethered to the EEG machine. The one at this hospital, as I've experienced before, has about a 2 foot lead (and I may be being generous here). This day and age there are ambulatory EEGs. This shit should be Wi-Fi. At the very least, couldn't they spare an extra length of bleeping wire?! I don't much care to watch the video, but I'm curious how all the electrodes aren't pulled off when you do have a seizure. Maybe they can wheel the machine around whichever way you tend to go? Who gives, I guess? I dunno. 

Oh, and apparently my family, (grandma, uncle and cousin [2 cousins?] came to visit on, what I hear, was more than one occasion. (My grandma lives in Post Falls, just over the Idaho border from Spokane.) Egad. My kind, fun-loving, gorgeous aunt would've been there, but we lost her this year to the shit fuck talons of breast cancer. Not long before, my grandfather died unexpectedly. A month or so prior to that, my river mentor had a fairly catastrophic stroke. Additionally, recently I went to our HR guy (a CPA) and dropped the mic. (Might elaborate on the full story...) We went toe-to-toe for one or two hours wherein, he talked me into staying. So, speaking of triggers.

If you told me my family had visited, and I'd been on a helicopter ride, and I'd been solely operating on what my brain knows to be true, i'd fight you on the Bible it wasn't true. Plus, what's even more unsettling, is I'm not even out, out much of the time, i don't think. I'm still interacting with the world, blackout drunk, snowed on benzos. Maybe punchy at the time (?), but I don't have any positive or euphoric connotations with any of those drugs.

You aren't permitted to leave the confines of the bed, much less sit up comfortably. You have to carry out all matters of toileting in a bed pan. You don't even have enough lead in the wires for grabbing your knees, rocking back and forth and weeping softly. 

And what the fetch are they even testing for? Were they not entirely convinced of said seizure activity? I'd already been through the gamut of testing at this very institution only to be ruled out for a second time as a surgical candidate. But, yes, lo and behold, this time, as with the last, there was documented evidence that my tongue-biting, pants wetting, and general thrashing about was indeed attributable to electrical abnormalities in my brain. 

So, I had a few seizures up in the purple-walled unit. At some point they finally gave me a bag for my shorts and liberated me from the vexatious tether and tentacles and ever-present eyes of the EEG machine. The seizures were only 2-3 minutes and relatively far between, so finally they moved me out of the ICU and down (up?) to the Neuro floor. 

It was the 8th or 9th story. The view was great, but day and night the room was about 85 degrees (29.4 C). It was miserable. The nurses were all, 'Oh, yeah, it's like this.' (WTF?) Don't know about you all, but my optimal sleeping temperature is well below 85 degrees. Thank God for that soft, delectable ice one nurse would retrieve for me by the mini pitcher. 

So concludes my second installation of wtf-ery. Thanks for making it through my not-so-succinct self-centric blubbering.

Mucho appreciado y amor.

Signed,


Bewildered

7 comments:

  1. Oh Ajax, you have no idea how excited I am to have you back blogging and commenting!!!!

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  2. Well, what a ride and whoa, you are out at the good end of it.
    ICU is another planet, had the pleasure two years ago when my heart went haywire. Bedpans, wires, monitors and bleeping. But there was coffee. Indeed. Weird. Maybe not real coffee.

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    Replies
    1. You are too, too kind (far and away from the self-described 'selfish bastard' you have claimed to be!) That's so funny, I don't remember *any* of the hospital food, but I distinctly remember ordering coffee at breakfast and wondering if they would shut down my request. They may have slipped me decaf, but I was grateful for whatever coffee-like substance they brought me. Love to ya.

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  3. Dear Bewildered,
    If I could, I'd come and steal you away. Stay strong. We love you out here.

    Love,
    Elizabeth

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  4. Oh, my love! I just realized...wait...maybe she's writing again.
    Uh, I am so dense.
    How horrible to wake up and not know where or why and I'm so sorry to hear about your loved ones. Sounds like you've had plenty of trigger events.
    Please just know that this community has missed you like crazy and we are glad, thrilled to have you back. Let us hold your hand as we stumble through this strange world together, okay? Please. And love.

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  5. you have no idea how excited I am to have you back blogging and commenting!!!!


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