Bear with me. You’re going to get this story in bits and pieces. There are parts I can’t remember, parts I don’t want to remember and so much that I want to say. When I finally made it home after 17 days in the hospital and a rehabilitation facility Chuck encouraged me to write every day and so I have, in a notebook. At first I wasn’t sure what I wanted to share. This is my story (so far) to the best of my recollection.
On Monday, October 11 my life changed forever. I went to the ER for something I thought was minor and hoped to be out in time to still take my parents to Cape May for the day. I was wrong. I woke up on Friday in the ICU. I’d had brain surgery and had a breathing tube down my throat.
I don’t remember much from Mon.-Fri. I remember going to the ER, I remember the doctor telling me I was being transferred to a different hospital, I remember Chuck holding my hand as I waited to go in for the first surgery and I remember waking up on Friday.
It’s been 29 days since I walked into the ER. Thirteen of those days were spent in the hospital as I moved from Critical Care ICU to a step down unit and then finally a regular room, On day 13 I moved to a rehabilitation facility to continue receiving IV antibiotics. I spent 5 days there before finally coming home on October 27.
The past 29 days have yielded ups and downs, successes and set backs and lots of fear and anxiety. But most of all my days have been filled with love. I haven’t spent one day alone since this whole ordeal began. My husband, parents and brother and sister-in-law have rearranged their lives and spent countless hours by my bedside and keeping me company at home. Old friends and former coworkers have come out of the woodwork to love and support me. People I don’t know prayed for me.
In a letter my aunt Gloria wrote to me, “Every morning I thank God for another day.” Amen.
More tomorrow. I’ll tell you about my wonderful nurses and doctors.