Resus Reflections

This is one of those time where I could ramble on in great detail about what exactly happened on the 15th of December and the days that followed. A detailed chronology of the mistakes, the rise and fall of my fortunes as passed fromIMG-20171222-WA0000.jpg doctor to doctor, corridor to cubicle, to corridor, to ward, discharge to home, and ambulance back to hospital through 2 admissions, 2 red status ambulance rides, and the various mishaps and misdemeanours that ultimately left me nothing formal to tell anyone (again).

The facts that no one will admit, are that on the 15th the head surgeon of Resus aggressively treated me for blood clots and pulmonary embolism. The blood test initially taken for blood clots actually clotted in the tube, the test taken 3 hours after the treatment that peaks in 2 hours was positive for blood clots, and the CT scan taken 3 days later was clear, just like that surgeon said it would be if it wasn’t done when he said it should have been done on Saturday not, the Monday, and then late on Monday night a full 13 hours later than originally scheduled, while I was being filled full of the anti-clot medication he had prescribed. What I wonder is why I cannot be told this formally in a simple statement, rather than me piecing together the statements made bit by bit to build the picture, and relying on the fact I am actually able to understand and access the information as it is conveyed by medical professionals who are assuming I do not understand it (clearly) to follow their breadcrumb trail. Do no harm is one thing, leave a patient with no explanation is another.

The following days were a result of me being discharged before his treatment plan was completed, and I feel lucky that I am here, lucky I am not damaged permanently as the clot remnants left travelled to my brain and other organs and didn’t do damage, although I did pass out. Lights out like a switch, no warning, no fade, nothing, gone, unconscious, no warning, nothing, more than once, with drops in my blood pressure while I was out cold. Waking to no idea how long I had been out or how I had got from where I had been to where I was. By description, it was like when I fighter is knocked out, stiff and out, no one home … with a twitch.

Yet, on the 20th I came home, I had a birthday tea with my step eldest, stepdaughter and their others with my wife who had stayed every possible moment she was allowed by my side, I had Christmas dinner and presents on Christmas day, skyped my own children from my exwife and had amazing long talk with my own eldest who is becoming a young man I an easily be proud of (no parental spin required), who humbles me with the way he makes his autism seem like an advantage when the world would hold him back.

Yes, I have been really rough, its hurt a lot, and yep, lights out with no control or warning is a frightening thing, as are tunnels of light while you are out, somehow I was never tempted to walk towards them tho. I have finally started some counselling, it was tough, but tough is what it takes to get from a bad place to a better one.

There have been days where I have wanted to stop breathing, wanted to stop hurting everyone around me with the worry of my health going so badly wrong. Where the worry in my wife’s eyes has hurt more than anything physical, and where knowing she spent 2 hours updating everyone that you had made another 24 hours should have made you smile but in reality it makes you feel like you aren’t worth the effort.

People say I fought, I feel like a fraud, there were times I never fought at all, breathing is just a reflex action you cant stop, so I did, no will power required. Even since, forced to recover, the lights still went out a couple of times, and I laid or sat, wondering if it was worth the effort, the pain of the next breath, worth anything at all. While those around me just seem to hurt, age with worry and I just breathe, breathe, and out, breathe, breathe, success is another day, or is success another breath, I lost track.

Positive that the sun will rise and it will fall, it won’t care if I fall or rise at all; I am not like the sun, it does something useful; without it, the world is lost and dead, the moon too has a purpose. I am a distant, distant star, its light reaching us long after its fire burned, an illusion of shining when the reality is nothing but an empty darkness. The star, false in its brilliance, deceiving in any promise, if you seek its light you are already lost in an illusion.

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