Chapter 5

Thirty Days and Thirty Nights

 The clock struck midnight ending Saturday, October 01 in Saint Mary's hospital  ICU unaware of how close death was turning to reality.  A day of celebrating a very happy three years of marriage and a better paying job ended in the Saint Mary's emergency room where the bump in my journey to the unknown began.  

Am I going to live or die?   This is the question that rocks the minds of the persons praying for fate that lingers over me.  The real fight was getting transferred to another hospital that will try to save me instead of watching me die.  As time marched on, I diminished rapidly as the Stoke took full control.  The transfer to get me out of this hellish hospital and go to the place my wife and I past on the way here, Millard Fillmore Gate Circle hospital.  I'd be traveling by ambulance  .

Sticking my feet with IV's because I could not talk to inform the paramedic's  my right arm don't give vitals have to use left arm.  Getting lifted into the ambulance, it was still dark and my trip Millard Fillmore Gate Circle hospital began.  Noticing the neat looking lights on the ceiling of the ambulance,  it drove away using its sirens.  Not knowing why the ambulance stopped before crossing the bridge leading to Grand Island on the interstate, I was pulled out and put in another ambulance to continue the destination to Millard Fillmore Gate Circle hospital. 

Waking up in Millard Fillmore Gate Circle hospitals ICU, I learned  I had a stroke by my wife telling me and I heard the doctors discuss I was lucky if I stayed alive in three days.  I heard this in a vegetation state in a bed and could not talk with head and eyes stuck to the left looking at the floor not able to blink.  Here I am thirty days later being transported to a Rehabilitation center.

 All I can remember in  those three days  Millard Fillmore ICU was being hot and cold.  A week past with ice packs and a cooling blanket keeping my temperature down, I am still alive!  

Authors note: I was on life support and the question was asked, Does the plug powering life & death stay plugged in or unplug it.  

Remembering how god awful cold I was put a result of a horrible memory which I can't worm up thinking about it today.   -------------------------------------------------

 ---------------------  "Okay!  Its the next day now.  I can finish telling this story .  I'm worm now"' ----------------------

Now I stayed alive, the news was I'll never move or talk  again and no guarantee that I was not feeling a thing or had any recognition of who I was in this world.

The days and nights in October were used up in the ICU recovering from my stroke and a series of surgeries with both keeping me asleep in those thirty days and nights.  It wasn't that bad, because I was blinking my eye lids so I can  answer yes/no questions for the doctors and proof to everybody I can think and remember who I am.

For you the reader, I remember a guy died next to me, the floor was mopped every day since that's all I can see and I new what time it was by memorizing the TV programs playing.  The three therapist whom I never forgotten because they kept me ranged, twice a week put me in a chair recliner and the day they dressed up for Halloween, also looking forward to go home; matter of fact it was my day to go to mother in laws house to hand out candy to the kids dressed as witches and goblins.  NO! I did not go home.  That's the denying moments you experience with this traumatic brain  injury.   I was a good Ginny Pig for those student nurses getting graded on things they do and I can say their bed side manners sucked.  I must focus you on Millard  Fillmore ICU nursing were very sincere towards my wife and I and constantly keeping me updated on all the people camping in the waiting room.  All the hands on me by  those different religious organizations, praying that I shall be healed.  I didn't believe in what they do but I never lost my sense of humor so  I could not help it and laughed out loud setting all the monitors hooked to me to go haywire.  Most of my day light and evening hours, I spent listening to music on the radio and when the song, Living On Loved by Allan Jackson played it let my imagination focus on my wife and I playing the leading part as the melody ended.   

Waking up to a new sunrise, I could not swing my legs over the side of my bed to put my feet on the floor and eventually wipe away the sleep from my eyes.  

"Why can't  I Move?"
I thought.

During these thirty days and nights, I new a gift of a fresh day started by being able to here the morning local news channel started.  Each day that started was hopes of finally going hone and go to my new job and play with Slash, instead I heard how I use to be as if I was dead and how I will never move or talk again.  How can I talk when a large tube is in my throat and my mouth incapable of moving freely do to all the hoses in it.  The day came to have this tube  prevent me from speaking removed and surgically get a hole put in throat apparently so I can breath on my own.  Days turned into a week and not a word from my mouth: although I was able to blink to signal once for NO two times for YES.