Wednesday, April 9, 2014

The Admission of Omission

Sort of seems to be a contradictory of terms, right?

I was admitted for a short inpatient stay from April 2-7. Since we went though some of it at home, I didn't need to stay for a few weeks. Was this the smartest thing to do?

Probably not.





A CT scan, two IV poles, and several labs and blood cultures later we found that I was in the middle of a flare of Crohns, which was suspected earlier in life, diagnosed again, then dismissed.

Only to find me again.



A lot of times that white board is the only thing keeping you company, and it vomits in your face the putrid threat of yet another shark in the tank that is being entrapped in the practice of medicine.

We also uncovered something else. You only get three guesses. Give up?

A line infection.

My PICC line grew gram + cocci, and thankfully I did not contract sepsis from this particular bug. But this just goes to show that one never knows, in this fog of uncertainty, just how close someone can be to tipping over the edge...and in my own case, a little too close for comfort.

The GI gave some rather grim prognosis: that it is a given that I will be re hospitalized. That I will continue to be at the mercy of whomever shows up to answer my S.O.S. signal for HELP! SOMETHING IS WRONG...

...again.

Apparently this was the understanding of most in my hospital. That I would be a revolving door patient. That I would be dependent of foreign objects placed in my body, that I would have dire need for IV drugs most only shudder at the thought of ever needing.

That home would not be where my apartment is.

I am a nomad.

Are you a victim? Or are you a warrior?

Initially I was indignant. Then straight appalled, which morphed itself into abject misery for all the world to see and hear...

Are you a victim?

As what was said sunk in completely, a promise crept in, curled at my feet, waiting for me to notice it. This promise was that of life. A promise that there would be some way to succeed in proving wrong that these drugs do so little to manage, not treat disease process.

A promise that all though the medical community remains baffled of what my body has shown, there is still an unsealed window to escape from, sprinting toward the right to Wellness.

A promise that this Hope I have -- despite what happens -- belongs to me.

Is mine for keeps.

Are you a warrior?









This plant was very, very dead in December.

April...it is much alive and well.

Are you a victim? Or are you a warrior?

What do you think?

The choice...is yours.




3 comments:

  1. I can't answer your question for myself but you are definitely a warrior with the most important thing - hope. I truly admire you and have no doubt that you will win your battle to the highest degree it is possible. I love you.

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    1. I love you too Karin. You too have fought much, struggled much, yet here you are. You are still here with us. That in and of itself shows a different sort of courage one has to dig very deep to see. I believe, whole heartedly, that you will find truce in this war you fight.

      Never, ever give up on you.

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    2. Thank you so much for your never ending support and belief in me! <3

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