Life

Boy, do I have a story to tell. Or I should say my family has one to tell because I don't recall much. It all started on November 8th. I had surgery scheduled at 6:45 am. I was getting my hiatal hernia repaired in a procedure called a Nissan Fundoplication. They take part of the stomach and wrap it around the esophagus to reduce stomach acid. I have Chrons disease and for the past two years I have been nauseated with excess acid. This needed to be done. I remember waking up from surgery. I remember not being able to breath. On the 11th at about 3am the nurse walked into my room to find me blue. I was told that they called a code and tried to stabilize me on a ventilator.I fought the intubation so my mouth is all cut up. I am told that Jeff rushed into the room to see me blue and bloody then was told the prognosis was not good.  I have pictures of me all big and puffy on that ventilator. I remember waking up with a tube down my throat and my hands tied to the bed. All my electrolytes were off. They say I went septic. The blood tests don't prove it though. Nobody can figure out what happened only that they were trying like mad to fix my bodies extremely high white count. Where the infection started nobody knows. I turned a little crazy in the hospital. I had to walk constantly. I wanted out of bed. I wanted to relax like they were telling me to do but my brain wouldn't let me. Finally the potassium and bags of magnesium started to work. I stayed in bed one night and slept for two hours. Progress. Its the most I sleep at night because I can't trust my body to do what its supposed to do: breath. So I wake up in a panic and can't get back to sleep. Finally the ventilator was removed. But I am a little messed up. I can guarantee that when I get the hospital bill I'll have to remind myself to breath correctly. See, i learned something. Plus I'm never having surgery again. EVER.