There's No Place Like Home ~ Once Upon A Time

This is the 6th instalment in the Once Upon a Time series. 

To view previous instalments in this series click here. 

click on images for larger photo view

Though large like a castle the place the princess would call home for the next few months.. was far from the comfy interiors one would find in a castle.

No luxurious guest suite in the guest wing ...

The  hospital ICCU, would be the princess's home for the foreseen future.

Once when a friend called the nurse's station and asked the difference between ICCU and CCU - he was told patients in ICCU are closer to the other side , while in CCU are closer to living.

When her eyes were open the only things the princess saw, were passing hospital staff

and doctors, nurses, respiratory technicians ...

there were no windows...just a few beds, separated by curtains (which were often pulled back- open-), much like what you see in emergency wards. Due to the seriousness of each patient's injuries, the ratio was one nurse to one patient.   

Though the pain and inability to move her body - other than her left hand - should have been an indication that her injuries were most serious, the princess only wanted to return to her little castle. The injury to her brain did not process the seriousness of her condition. She would need  be able to breath on her own,before she would be moved to ICC. 

Once in ICC, she would need to learn to eat again (starting with liquids for swallowing and gradually moving to purée foods). Still unable to feed herself, her sister who had been constantly by her side since that first day ... would feed her, and at times let her try and feed herself. When it was determined that she would be able to take in food the feeding tube was removed and the princess was graduated to a regular hospital room.

The hospital room brought a whole new series of learning~ sitting up and learning to transfer from bed to wheelchair. 

The princess, would also need to learn basics like speaking

Using the royal throne...

Everyone, kept saying she would get to go home soon! If she could get through each of these steps. So, even though the progress was slow, confusing and painful the princess gave it all she could. With dreams that she would soon be home...

There's No Place Like Home!!

 Will the princess get to go home? Tune in next time for a continuation ... of

The Princess Wakes UP ... Once Upon a Time

This is the 4th instalment in the Once Upon a Time, a weekly series. 

To view previous instalments in this series click here.  

As the the Angels guided the princess's soul to be reunited with her human body, the knowledge she had gained of events that would or would not occur should she remain Home, was slowly being removed from her active memory. They would however, let her keep memories of her visit Home.

As she continued to sleep the princess, 

felt as if she was floating in a grande bed. Possibly this was at the time her soul connected with it's earthly body.

The feeling of floating was soon replaced with a feeling of pain, a throbbing head and voices. Why was she hearing people in her bedroom. That must have been some dinner party!

As the voices and the words became clearer to her, there was one that stood out from the rest, a very familiar voice. It was that of her sister's ....

Suddenly, the princess's eyes opened (had she not had them open already ~she thought~ as the light hurt her open eyes). The princess tried to lift her head , but it felt like it was being held down; her legs were not moving either; her arms felt like lead weights and something was preventing her from turning her neck. As she went to speak, she realized no sound was coming out. Not that it would have mattered the words floating in her head were making no sense any ways.

 As she felt her eye lids getting heavier ... she heard her sister say

" You have been in terrible accident, but you are going to be ok "....

What do you think will happen next? Will she remember what happen (Her trip Home or the accident)? What is holding her down, so she can't move?Tune in next week for a continuation ... of

Boarding the Boat ... Once Upon A Time

This is the 3rd instalment in the Once Upon a Time, a weekly series. 

To view previous instalments in this series click here.  

The thought of returning Home, filled the princess with a warmth that she could not describe. With each movement towards the waiting crowd, the thought of Home became stronger and all sorts of visions started to appear in her mind's eye. Don't be afraid, she could hear voice (in thought of course) but it was not that of the figure shrouded in white. Suddenly before her and the crowd she had now joined, was a beautiful vision. The memories of lives lived are becoming accessible. By the time you finish crossing over you will recall all you have learned in those lives.

As the awaiting crowd continued to grow in 1000s ... what resembled a boat appeared through the mist. Guided by 3 white doves. As they boarded and took their spots, it was as if they were being stacked like sardines. Packed in tightly, the sense of balance was as if they were packed in side ways. Once again the beautiful vision before them communicated in thought. 

You will be given insight as to the affect your choice to return Home will have on the souls that are continuing their earthly journeys and lessons. 

As the vessel moved along ... shades of white, blue and a faint golden began to fill the space around them. 

Some of these souls you will recognize and others you may not (as you have not yet crossed paths on earth)  ... but you will see how your choice will affect them. When you chose Home , you did not know all of this ... so again you are free to choose.

The space around the princess was suddenly golden and she was surrounded by souls who having taken Angelic form would accompany their charge back to earth and care for her soul until it once again was reunited with the human body it had come from. The princess remained in a deep sleep and was not aware she was no longer on her way Home, but back to an earthly journey.

What do you think will happen next? Why was she going back to earth? Tune in next week for a continuation ... of

Life at a Dead End ~

I know that you are all waiting to hear what happened to the Man I started to tell you about on last Sunday’s and Monday’s post {if you didn’t read the previous posts you can click on each day to see the respective post}.  But you need a little more background to better understand.


Imagine, you have everything going for you ~ career; social life; family; friends; you are a fashionista with a collection of heels that are amazing; you are fit and adventurous; active; and you are Independent, have your own home; and you have meant someone whom you may actually want to have a realtionship with (you are not easily distracted - very career focused). Life is pretty sweet!

Then one day you wake up and need help to complete your basic grooming/hygiene needs; in your mind you know what you want to say – but what comes out is completely different (and you are aware that its different, but are able to do anything about it); you now require someone to drive you where you need to go; you have no energy – the simple task of showering exhausts you; you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror – and you don’t sound like yourself; you have all your limbs – but can’t touch your face with your right hand, because your elbow was destroyed and arm is in a hand shake position; your social life now consists of Medical appointments. Almost a year after this change in your life you are no closer to getting your life back. You try to come up with ways of getting your life back ~ but it starts to become pretty clear quite quickly … You may still be alive But your life is at a DEAD END.

Now picture this you are married, life is great (you have your ups and downs like everyone else), a loving and caring spouse, family, friends; a beautiful home; a vacation home; then one day your spouse leaves for work in the morning , life is going great! That evening you get a knock on the door – standing there is a police officer – you look at what is in his hand; you try to breathe- but nothing happens … your brain tries to process what the officer is saying ~ but surely there has been a mistake!!! You rush to the hospital and are informed of the seriousness of the situation – within 48 hours your happy life is gone. Later that week you bury your spouse.

For the next couple of months – all you think about is getting the paperwork done, so that you don’t leave a bigger burdened for her family to deal with. Then out of the blue ~ you meet someone who listens; who understands what it’s like to lose a part of yourself; someone who does not judge nor tell you what you should or not feel or do! Someone who becomes a friend, you what to see not give-up and get through their own challenges in life. Part of you is seeing this because you too don’t want to give-up – but the pain is deep that ending it all, seems like it’s your only solution – but who will help this new friend who needs someone?

You decide to share this new hope for life with your family – parents, siblings, cousins – instead of being happy that you for the time being are not focused on ending your own life; they become disgusted with you; what will people think of "them"; You no longer know what to do – you have lost everything and your own flesh in blood are now turning on you ~ really there is not point to continue anymore… you are only existing, going through the motions, you realize ahead for you there is only a DEAD END.

So, what will two people whose life is at a Dead End do?

What would do you think you would do?

What I want to share with others;

When someone you know is going through a horrific life altering event, unless they are going to physically harm themselves or others, be supportive (You do not have to agree with their decisions or even understand their reasoning). You can assume what you would do faced with the same circumstances, but let me tell you until you are actually walking in those shoes and on that path ~ what you think you would do and what you may actually do could be as opposite as north and south. It is not up to us to pass judgment on others. Passing judgment only pushes the person further down that black hole of darkness.

Helping Others a Temporary Escape ~Part of Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

Helping provides a distraction. Focusing on others takes us away, at least temporarily, from the hassles of work, finances, or family troubles. Helping can also block pain because our attention is shifted from personal pain to helping others. Such was the case when I started to get to know the Man (from yesterday's [Sunday] post).

Many were concerned that I would become emotionally and physically drained. I on the other hand was happy to be able to do something other than just lay in bed or the couch between Medical appointments focusing on the life I no longer had; and if it was helping someone for me to listen – then I would listen. As we continued to speak on the phone and in person a friendship started to develop. We could relate to each other in ways that others could not – He had lost a part of himself; me it felt like I had lost so many parts of me, I wondered if anything could be salvaged. We were both at cross roads leading to a dead end.

As time passed and I grew a little stronger to start going out of my house, another reality started to set in – cars, groups of people, loud noises were now a real setback for me. This Man had a family country home and suggested that I consider joining him on his next trip. After little thought I agreed, so off we went. The next few weeks became a time of running away from both of our lives and the emotional and physical pain that we suffered in our own ways.

The time in the country, being surrounded by nature, with no reminders of the life I had lost, it must have been a form of therapy. In this setting I felt for the first time in almost a year a sense of peace within myself. What had started as a few days in the country turned into a road trip ~ You can imagine the concern my care team had. Looking back now I can see where they were coming from as this was interrupting my rehab sessions – But I also think that had I not taken the trip I may have very well entered a place where no one would have been able to reach me. Wanting to save this Man’s life took priority over ending mine.

What I want to share with others;

Sometimes prayers for healing are answered but not in a way that you had anticipated. Looking back now I see that my prayers of being able to see myself again - I was sent to cross paths with this Man – to see what he couldn’t see that he had a life to live (a mirror of what I thought I had not). In my wanting to help a fellow person – I saved not only him but myself as well.

No matter how awful your situation, know that you are still able to help someone who is in a much darker place then you. As the saying goes “when you think you have bad – all you need to do is look to your right or left and you will find someone in greater need”.

For family, care-givers and friends of someone going through a life changing event, provided your loved one is not putting themselves or others at risk or danger of any kind – left them stretch their wings. Belief and Faith are wonderful healers, if we only give them a chance.

So, you may be wondering what happen to this Man. Visit next Monday ~ As Picking up the pieces , changes to “Reaching a Dead End” series.

“Beyond the Physical …” - Part of Picking Up The Pieces Mondays

For those who emailed me.. thank you for your sweet words - I am OK.. Remember these Monday posts catching up to where I am today. Going back to this time was a little challenging and I apologize if its is a little scattered. Feel free to email me if you would like more insight into this part of recovery. Again sorry for the lateness of this post today...
===========================================

Having sat in front of this computer for almost an hour staring at the blank page on the screen, clicking some words followed by the “backspace” button; I realize that this is perhaps the hardest post about the accident I have sat to write. “Why?” you may be asking – well perhaps unlike the limitations caused by injuries and the physical pain, which can be seen and somewhat managed – what I’m about to share is often not seen by others and simmers lightly beneath the surface.

In the early days of recovery I sometimes felt like I was “going crazy” or was so “broken” that nothing would make me whole again. Overtime with wonderful supportive people around me; a good psychologist; and Meds I find that I am able to somehow find the strength to keep going despite;

My Reduced interest in previously enjoyed activities

My limitations (energy, attention span, information processing) in the early days often kept me from doing things that I once found such joy in – such as; going to a movie, out to eat, meeting friends for coffee, shopping, gardening , ironing my bed sheets (yes, to this day I still miss the ironing of sheets).

Sleep difficulties

At night dreams that caused me to wake up panicked throughout the night, my face and pillow damp from tears – that I do not recall crying and no matter how hard I try I can never remember the dream . I have no memory of the accident; a friend suggested that perhaps during my sleep I am somehow recalling the accident [to this day I do not know what causes me to feel that way in my sleep, and I still have these experiences, thankfully not as frequent].

Concentration difficulties

Easily distracted to the point that I forget if I have eaten or not; brushed my teeth. I try to avoid noisy places and areas with too my people. Recently I was all proud to be boiling water for some pasta – (Mr. G was home working on something and after much discussion agreed to let me use the stove while he was outside) all was going well. Then little Dolce needed to be let out – I recall thinking I can do this … so I went to let him out , Dolce took a little longer and was pulling to go for a walk – so off we went. I returned back to the house to a frantic Mr. G holding a nearly boiled dry pot. Needless to say I’m still not to use the stove unless someone is in the immediate area. Thankfully he was here to check on me and keep me safe.

Easily irritated

Today the frequency of these feelings has been lessening with Meds [discovering the right Meds has been a very bumpy road], identify triggers and removing them or myself from the situation has been beneficial to having some sort of life.

Anxiety

Being around moving cars, loud people/noises and not being able to do things that once came so easily.

The realization of how my injuries impacted my ability to carry out basic day to day functions brought with it another revelation – my future career plans are gone. Without a career, what future do I have? Things started to not look very promising for me; and that was the beginning of a downward swirl. I experienced my first complete melt down around May 2007. (Yes the first, there were 3 more serious ones over the next couple of years and many small but equally scary ones in between).

What I want to share with others;

The emotional damage is often as great if not greater than the physical damage. As the bandages from physical wounds begin to come off; the scars covered by clothing; people start to look at the person like they are whom they were prior to their detour in life. These people begin to return back to their lives – the” novelty” of an injured friend or loved one wearing off (sounds cold – BUT it is true). And the person finds themselves alone, scared and unsure of what the future holds.

The words above belong to author William Styron, and they describe his first episode of major depression.

When your loved is going through a meltdown, their world is literally spinning out of control. For them it’s like they are seeing what is happening, are hearing what they are saying, BUT I stress this …they are unable to stop. Telling them to “stop”… or saying “enough” is not going to help at all, trust me if they could they would ~ they want more than you to have this stop.

My best suggestion (I’m not a professional )– when I have been the one going out of control – what we found would work at times was someone speaking softly to me .. this would often calm me enough to get me to go and lay down.
If you feel like you are going “crazy” … know you are not alone. Speak to someone and the sooner you are able to connect with the right Psychologist , you will be on your way to a much better place.

Who is the Person in the Mirror? - Part of Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

While in the hospital I had caught small glimpses of my reflection on glass windows; but had not registered the toll the injuries had taken on my body, once home access to full length mirrors began to show the reality. A once toned, fit, healthy body had been replaced by one with multiple limitations, a frail frame, T shaped train tracks to nowhere – now decorate my abdomen, while a single track ran down the inside my right arm. My long lush hair ,was now thin short straw like and much had fallen out on the back of my head partially by the time spent in the hospital laying on my back and from the trauma I had sustained to the back of my head. I would later discover that about a thumb length and two thumb widths area would never grow hair again, due to the soft tissue damage in that area.

Aside from the physical changes, the reflection that once showed a healthy glow, full of life person, with dimples that became prominent with every smile or smirk, even teeth, hazel eyes that sparkled and took on a green tone at excitement and extreme happiness was no longer present. In the place of the once ever present reflection was a reflection of sunken cheeks, sallow grayish skin tone, chipped teeth , and expressionless, hunched lifeless image. The tone in my speech had also been affected by the trac– the voice that was once so familiar was also now that of a stranger.

Having been a corporate career driven person, whose appearance had been as important as my abilities to conduct business. Now not only was my ability to process information, speak in a professional manner, tainted – I no longer recognized the reflection in the mirror staring back at me. The realization of the extreme changes in my appearance and ability to express myself sent me crying myself to sleep many nights thereafter.

What I want to share with others;

For those facing a change in their appearance regardless of the cause or degree of change, it can be extremely difficult and self destructing. Especially when their image is/has been so much a part of whom they were/are and how they are received and or viewed by others. Mentally and emotionally it can be as painful and debilitating as physical pain.

Telling someone “You are lucky to be alive, it doesn’t matter what you look like- your looks are only super-facial” or “Now you know how it feels to be out of shape like me” or “If I had the body you had before the accident I would be so happy and try to go out with that guy”– does not help. Trust, me the person knows and is grateful to be alive ~ though well meaning, these statements only reinforce that they are no longer whole. Yes, these were real statements said to me at various times, by different people.

For anyone reading this that is going through a self-image crisis regardless of the reason, if how you present yourself to the world is/has been part of who you were/are, KNOW that you are not being super-facial. The resolution is speaking to a professional(s) and or people who can help you adjust to who you are at the moment and help you build a plan to re-build your self-image – mentally, emotionally and physically.

Rose Coloured Glasss - Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

Over the next couple of months I a whole new Home Care~Team was assembled – consisting of:

Image Credit

Case Manager; Occupational Therapist; Speech Therapist; Physio Therapist; Chiropractor; Massage Therapy; Osteopath Therapist; Psychologist; In-Home 24/7 Caregiving; Transportation Services; family doctor and the numerous Specialists I had to see at the hospital for ongoing follow up – neurology, fracture clinic, respiratory, ABI clinic etc. It felt like a revolving door had been placed on my front door.

image credit

 I pushed myself with every ounce of energy my body had. The therapists applauded me on my efforts. I tried my best not to show how much I really required help and what little energy I now had. I would try to keep the pain from showing and I didn't want anyone to see how dependent I was on the caregivers or my weaknesses ; I would not eat around friends, family even if I was hungry- because then they would see how I struggled just to bring a spoon to my mouth. I was thankful that my need to use the facilities now seemed to be quite limited (I would later discover it was due to meds and sustained internal injuries) - so visiting people would not see that the caregiver had to assist me. despite all this I kept thinking I would be back to work within weeks and that all would return to “normal”. The reality however, was much darker than my “rose colored glasses" would allow me to see, and partially protected by my acquired brain injury.

As, weeks turned to months – and little progress was happening, panic, frustration (code for depression) started to set in. Friends who had seen me through the worst in the hospital, started to become distant now that I was home. My Case Manager explained to me that - “it was not uncommon for this to happen once people were home. Seeing how different a loved one is within " their own" environment, is difficult for family and friends to witness- so their natural instinct is to retract.She went on to say that in time some would return to be by my side - while others would no longer be part of my life.  

What I want to share with others;

While your loved one is in the hospital people (including familyl) do not see them as they were prior – they accept that the person is suffering. However, when your loved one goes home and is seen in their own natural environment – these same persons expect to see the “old” loved one – this goes for friends and family members. Know that your loved one will do everything to be that “old” person (as they too are in denial of change) – so it becomes very confusing as to whom they are. Frustration, depression, escalation in pain, confusion and the limitations of your loved ones ability – boil to the surface.

What your loved may not be aware is that going home may be a bitter sweet experience. For me - I thought going home meant regaining some of my freedom and return to my life. Of course those looking out for me knew otherwise. They knew I still had a long road to travel, with many loops, turns and the possibility of an additional detour or two, along the way.

Next Monday ~ Stranger in the mirror..

Home at Last - Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

image:www.allposters.com

As I moved from the car to up the walk way, I truly left like an elderly woman, frail and hunched over, cane in one hand, while being assisted (held up) on the other side. I shuffled my slippered feet along the path way to the stairs that took you to the front porch and my front door. How I made it up those 5 steps, that first day still remains a mystery – though I had help, it felt like 50 steps nonetheless.

Walking in my front door, I looked around – everything was just as I had left it, more or less. I was seated on the sofa, while my things were brought in from the car; I looked around – a feeling of being an intruder in another person’s life enveloped me. The person who lived here, was full of life, pictures scattered around - showed laughter and memories with friends at social gatherings, travels, charity functions and BBQs. Yet, this person was me – but now I could barely hold my head up let alone be the active, energy filled soul in those pictures.

image: google search images

Upstairs, my nightmare became a reality; I had to be lifted unto my Wheat Farmers style bed – I had previously so easily hoped into. The duvet that I had purchased and covered with a ruby red and golden tone duvet cover, that had felt so light and warm – now felt like a ton of bricks, and had to be replaced with a light weight blanket. As I lay there unable to move (literally) I took in the room – on the chaise arm my bikini, a regular summer staple, like a sun loving friend – would become the enemy of my now butchered abdomen; my new Chanel hand bag sat on the vanity table – I had just purchased it weeks before my accident – would I be able to use it – with my right arm fused at the elbow in a hand shake position; a strange voice brought me out of deep wonderment “Miss were shall I put these, don’t imagine you will be needing them anytime soon..” as my eyes followed the sound – a woman with a Jamaican accent stood there holding in one hand strappy heels I had bought on my trip to Miami that summer and my Jimmy Choo black heels in the other hand. I laid there speechless, who are you? Why do you have my shoes? Ran through my thoughts, but for some reason I could not get the words out.

image:www.yorkhospital.com

Exhaustion must have come to my rescue, as I opened my eyes I was greeted with friendly familiar smiles. “hey sleepy, did you meet the caregiver yet? She makes a great cup of coffee.” I was informed that there would be 3 shifts of caregivers – morning, afternoon and evening. They would assist me with, bathing, going to washroom, eating, dressing, meds and anything else I may need. Great, I was now a patient trapped in my own home.



What I want to share with others;

While your loved one is in the hospital people do not see them as they were prior – they accept that the person is injured. However, when your loved one goes home and is seen in a familiar environment – these same people expect to see the “old” loved one – this goes for friends and family members. Know that your loved one will do everything to be that “old” person (as they too are in denial of change) – so it becomes very confusing as to whom they are. Frustration, depression, escalation in pain, confusion and the limitations of your loved ones ability – boil to the surface.

What your loved may not be aware is that going home may be a bitter sweet experience. For me - I thought going home meant regaining some of my freedom and return to my life. Of course those looking out for me knew otherwise. They knew I still had a long road to travel, with many loops, turns and the yet to be discovered additional detour or two, along the way.

Next Monday when the reality becomes too much for friends and family – your loved one feels even more helpless.

Rehab Hospital – Step 4 of 4 to going home - Part of Picking-Up the Pieces Mondays

The day that I had worked so hard for was finally just hours away, I was going to get out of this hospital! What I didn’t realize was that it wasn’t going to be a straight trip home. There would be a detour to a rehab hospital which would last a few weeks.


My first day at the Rehab hospital – was welcoming. I discovered that during the day I could wear my own clothes – and in the evening my own pjs. The nurses all seemed very helpful and I was in a semi-private room. This would be home until I was able to achieve: walking with a cane, go up and down stairs - But first I would need to learn to transfer out of bed into a wheel chair (on my own) – and back into bed; I would also have to learn to feed myself with my left hand; and gain some strength and become weight bearing on my right side. My actual stay would be dependent on successfully achieving the above goals.

After an Angel Friend (more on this in future posts), had me settled in my “new temporary” home, he went off to get me some food. In the meantime a nurse came in to get me washed up, she thought it would be best to have me sit on the bath bench, while she hosed me down, gave me a shower. The last I recalled was telling her I was feeling dizzy – then hearing her scream, as I found myself slumped over the side of the tub face planted on the floor blood spurting from somewhere, as the floor was covered in blood. As she approached, she kept saying “I just stepped out to get some towels to dry you”.. yes, in my dizzy state she had left me unattended.

Once I was back in bed, my Angel Friend arrived and the first thing he said was “look at the size of your nose! What happened?” As I filled him in on my first shower experience – the nurse came in and again apologized “I’m so sorry – for leaving her unattended- I just stepped out to get a towel.”

The next few weeks I was put through extensive physiotherapy, exercises geared to rehabilitate my movements and dexterity and cognitive testing. The food was not much better, here – the staff was friendlier and more helpful. Friends continued to bring me food – now from favourite restaurants, as I was able to eat and magazines that kept me entertained – I couldn’t focus to read but the pictures were entertaining. My hopes of being in my home for Christmas came and went, with New Year’s Eve approaching. So my most favourite celebrations, Birthday, Christmas and ringing in the New Year were spent in the hospital.

I was convinced that home would be a much better place for me, and practiced, practiced walking around my bed with a cane – every opportunity I had. Finally I was told that if I could transfer from the wheelchair to a car I would be a few steps closer to going home. I was excited by the news, but wasn’t sure what all would be involved in this transfer to car business. I was soon going to find out, that afternoon I was taken to the hospital parking lot in my wheelchair, and the instructor set out to demonstrate how I was to get into the car. As I watched him- back towards the passenger seat, sit down –so legs are down, facing the open door-, then slightly turn his back inward and rotate in the seat with legs together until he was in sitting position – back against the seat and legs safely in the car. I knew I would pass this first try … after all, anyone who has had to get in and out of low sports cars knows – this is the first thing a “well heeled lady” learns, so as to not put her panties on display or look like an Amazon getting in and out. The instructor was amazed at how “quickly” I caught on; I just smiled and asked “so do I get to go home now?”

What I want to share with others;

This is perhaps the toughest step for your loved one. They have now been in the hospital a few months and the “novelty” of visiting a friend in the hospital has worn off for most people, as they feel the person has made it through the worst of it. This however is the most important time for “caring” friends and family to really let the loved-one know they are not alone; they have not been forgotten.

Although your loved one is now able to speak for themselves – they are still not able to fully comprehend what their limits are – and that they can voice their opinions. Even if they are telling you so, or are telling the kitchen staff that broccoli has florets and that just the stems is unacceptable. I went through extensive painful rehab on my right elbow – despite the fact that it was “never” going to gain any movement. To this day, I often wonder how this fact slipped through the “physio” people at rehab. Yet, at the time I was not able to question their techniques.

Next Monday we start with being home!!!!

Intensive Care – Step 2 of 4 to going home - Part of Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

I was settled in a private room surround by windows (not to the outside) and trying to get a handle on the “contraption” that enabled me to be heard. Still quite weak, I remained bed bound. The goal that I had to reach here was to have the “contraption” removed – by demonstrating that I could drink water and swallow on my own.

There was an extremely friendly, jolly nurse who became my friend – she would be instrumental in me attaining these goals. She would “supply” me with small pieces of ice-cubes to eat and slowly learn to swallow. By the time the “testing” person came I was able to swallow bits of water with no problem. Then it was getting approval to get me off the feeding tube – there was one nurse who was determined to not have it removed – I guess that meant she would have more work during feeding time – as the possibility of me choking and food going into my air passage was a high risk – due to the trach and hole in my throat. But with the help of my Nurse Friend and a compassionate Doctor, the feeding tube was removed. They started me on broth and slowly I graduated to something mushy they assured me was “food”. Jello became a food group to me.

The “contraption” was removed; the hole in my throat was bandaged. I was informed that it would “close” on its own – no stitches. Now when I attempted to speak there was a wheezing noise that could be heard through the bandages.

Though I was still quite weak, I was determined to get home. I begged and pleaded my case to be moved to the “Ward.” Looking back now I should have just stayed put and regained some strength and not insisted on being moved to the “Ward”. But at the time I was so confused, and did not understand just how seriously I had been injured.

What I want to share with others;

Although your loved one “may appear” to know what is best for them and seem to be doing better – know that mostly they are confused and scared. I don’t have the “magic” words that you can use to help them understand that recovery can’t be rushed – but I wish looking back now that someone had realized that I subconsciously I was trying to rush through recovery – not because I strong and brave – but because I was scared out of mind.

For anyone reading this who is going through anything similar in terms of needing to recover be it in an addiction Rehab Centre, hospital or any form where care is required, don’t rush to get through recovery – each minute of you being there is required to make you stronger so that healing can take place.

image: google search -hunterhospital

Critical Care – Step 1 of 4 to going home - Part of Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

I started to “wake-up” – I do not recall exactly what my first thoughts or feelings were – but at some point I remember thinking “where am I – and why can’t I wake myself up from this nightmare?” At some point it started to become clear that I was not having a dream, the pain and confusion as to where I was and I why I felt this way – was actually quite real. I tried to speak, but no sound was coming out. I would later discover this was due to the tracheal intubation tubing that was coming out of my throat and helping me to breathe. This trach would also become the obstacle to getting me to the next level of care.

During this time – I was completely at the mercy of the nurses for all my needs. From monitoring my life saving equipment to bodily function needs. Looking back now I often wonder how I made it through this time. My sister tried to make it and keep me as comfortable as possible; from emptying bed pan when there was no one available to come and retrieve it; personal grooming – to pleading my case for polish on my toes (yes, all else was escaping and failing me, but the fact that the polish on my toes had been removed – did not. Perhaps, looking back now – it was my attempt to retain some part of myself, as all else no longer felt like me, though I don’t think I was consciously aware of this yet.) Yes, I was allowed to have polish put back on my toes – and was delighted when the x-ray technician commented - I was the only person who ever came from CC with freshly polished toes.

The road to moving from CC to Intensive Care was paved with good intentions, but I would have to be off the ventilator for at least 24 hours with no incidents ( I had to breathe on my own) it took a few attempts before I would achieve success. Breathing on my own was as equally painful as when they were suctioning out the trachea to make me cough up stuff to clear my lungs. Apparently it was equally as unpleasant an experience for those who had front seats to the process as it was for me– to them it was like I was going into convulsions, I was later informed.

Eventually tubes were removed and I graduated to a “ trach plug” – for the hole in my throat. By holding a figure over the “contraption” as I called it – I was able to speak and be heard – though I sounded much like someone who had inhaled helium. This of course did not give me an instant pass out of CC.

What I want to share with others;

Night time is a very lonely and most unsettling time. If you know someone in CC – please try to not leave them alone for any prolonged period of time and try to be on time in the morning. For me, if visiting hours started and my sister was not there – I would go into a big panic and anxious state until the nurses were able to locate her.

Many people feel when their loved ones are in the hospital –they are being taken care of; to this I say – there are some very terrific nurses , I was extremely fortunate to have some of these nurses care for me. I will forever be grateful to the nurse that took the extra time to wash between my toes (I can’t tell you how that small gesture made a world of difference to me); the nurse who wore a protective apron and held my mangled arm as I was in for an MRI (without her help it with would have extremely painful to hold up my shattered arm); the nurse that recommended my sister ask the black dead, skin around incisions on my chest bone be debrided… these are just a few examples of the great beyond the call of duty treatment I received.

Unfortunately, to every good there also is a not so good – balance they call it. I still get shivers every time I think about the nurse that threaten to put a bag or diaper on my behind if I continued to ask for the bed pan – that night my bowels were starting to move; then there was the nurse that left me on the bed pan for over 45 minutes (the man across from me had a digital clock above his bed – in CC they need to know the exact time in case you die – there are no walls, just curtains and they are drawn open); Oh and let’s not forget the midnight nurses that were very disturbed by my request to keep their personal conversation down- as I was trying to sleep… this list also goes on.

Know that the person in the bed no matter how much they look like they are OK – they are not, it is our human instinct to not want to look hurt, confused, depressed etc. – showing these may somehow make us appear weak in the eyes of others. Keep visitors to immediate family and those extremely close to the person – no one wants to be on display, especially when they have just gone through hell and back. If your loved seems to get stressed out when you get ready to leave at the end of the day – try and figure out why. Do not dismiss any claims they may try to voice – I’m not saying to jump the gun here – but take the time to carefully examine things.

Learn proper Etiquette for visiting patients in hospital - it will make your visit more enjoyable, especially for the patient. Here are a couple of websites that offer some wonderful tips on this matter: I wish that some of my visitors had been given this list to read, before visiting.

Etiquette for visiting someone in hospital

Etiquette for visting someone in hospital -tips

images; Me in hospital - HHL; other images -google search