Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Baby Please Don't Go....
Right now I'm listening to Mike Posner's famous 4-track song he made in his dorm room: Please Don't Go. I love this song: "...I stay running from Tommorrow...."
It's simple in lyrics and in sound. I guess that's why I like it so much. That and he's not sore on the eyes for a man of his young age. 👀
I need simple and torn down and simplistic. In words and sounds and vibrations in my spirit and heart. Yet deep and meaningful.
I was hospitalized last week. I had extraordinary pain for 72 hours straight. Seeing through the pain wasn't an option any more. That's when you feel your spirit and sanity break through your bones and brain. A brain hemmorage and carotid dissection were ruled out. After being given several pain meds, including morphine and dilaudid, my pain had broken but only by half (not that I was complaining). I also experienced something that they initially referred to as a cardiac event. (When my chest squeezes to the point I'm screaming, the crash cart comes in with several medical staff and they are slapping EKG wires on me and my BP is up to 160...) I need to see a cardiologist although my EKG was "ok but not perfect but not enough to keep me there."
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Anyway--- with the pain is creeping back, I'm beyond exhausted from it.all.
The doc comes in and says "we don't know what caused all of that chest pain but I'm fairly confident that you'll be ok at home. We've ruled out the biggies on your brain. Call your docs in Ann Arbor. They will know what they want you to do. We will load you up with pain meds and get you out of here."
Uuuhhmmmmm. Wow. Just wow.
So, I'm entering this several days after those last thoughts. My son, Joshua, re-energized my efforts towards writing. Here I am.
A friend of mine and former colleague once told me, "illness knows no pride." This was a lesson after her husband was diagnosed with bone cancer. He lost his career. They lost his income with two kids in college and they lost their home. Her mother became demented and moved in while he was coping with chemo and her grandchild was practically abandoned. So she became a new mother at 55.
Somewhere in the mix of all of this, she learned to ask for help. From colleagues, her church family, neighbors, strangers online. It didn't matter. The bottom line was this: she needed help.
Illness knows no pride.
I have learned this lesson sharply. When I set up my gofundme account I was shocked at the outpouring of love by total strangers. My friend from high school, who I haven't seen in 30 years donated a ridiculous amount of money. I've had people feel awkward "for me" which is strange because I don't feel awkward, embarrassed, etc.
Illness knows no pride.
What I've overwhelmingly learned while I've been sick is that people want to do something but they don't know what. This has given them an outlet. I thank all of you for the amazing support.
I had a total stranger show up on my doorstep three weeks ago who found out about my illness through folks in the neighborhood and she wanted to offer her services to help me.
Who does that??
Many angels have been sent my way in the midst of tremendous stress, pain and chaos.
I just want it to end and I'm struggling with the fact that it's not.