I like to pride myself on being independent and not asking for help. But, life happens and occasionally decides to take you down a notch. That journey started for me on November 10, 2023. I didn’t feel well. Ok, I was actually doubled over with pain. Despite protests from me, my husband, Mark, loaded me into the car and drove me to the emergency room. We were there all night getting tests, waiting for results, etc. By morning, things started to move quickly. The doctor told me I had to go to Indianapolis for surgery. She told me that an ambulance takes three hours to get there but a helicopter takes one hour. You don’t have three hours. Needless to say, that got my attention, the decision was made and things got real. At this point, my brain went into coping mode where I joke around to keep my sanity. The MedFlight crew was phenomenal and picked up that vibe. I asked them why they had a jump pack and I didn’t. Was it something I said? The pilot replied that he didn’t know because this was his first time flying this helicopter. As we rose into the sky on that beautiful, sunny day, I felt so alone. I was leaving my husband, family and dogs behind. Would I see them again? The flight to Indy was uneventful until we started to land and I felt queasy. However, I held it together so the pilot said I get to keep my street cred.
As soon as we landed, I was rushed to a room, my doc introduced herself, they knocked me out and took me to surgery. Once my husband arrived, he had to wait over five hours for me to get out of surgery. He was told I would probably just be there a few days. LIttle did any of us know what was coming next. I won’t go into detail, but the surgery had a domino effect on important stuff like my heart and lungs. That’s stuff I never had trouble with! What gives? That led to four more procedures. After those procedures, my morale took a hit. Thank goodness for the nurses who kept me sane. They are the backbone of every hospital and bless them all. One time, around 3am, I was having a hard time. I was too warm, my lovely hospital gown was twisted and I was in pain. A nurse came in to take my vital signs. In her lilting Jamaican accent she asked why I hadn’t called anyone. She said we can’t help if you don’t ask. The nurse then went about making me more comfortable and I was so grateful that I cried. And yes, I got better about asking for help. By the way, my room was ALWAYS too warm. Therefore, I ordered a fan and had it delivered to the reception area at the hospital. Never underestimate the power of an overheated woman with a phone she’s not afraid to use for ordering. Aside from the nurses, my husband was my rock. He drove three hours, each way, every day to see me. I kept telling him he didn’t have to come every day. Thank goodness he didn’t listen to me. It was something I had to look forward to every day. Mark would also fill me in on when my family and co-workers called to check on me. All in all, the “few days” I was supposed to stay turned into 19 days. When it was time to go home, we weren't even out of the parking lot when I started to sob. This was a deep, ugly cry. It was relief. Until that moment, I thought I might never leave the hospital. But, I was going home! I’m on the mend but reminding myself it’s okay to take it slow and give myself grace to heal. Have I completely changed? Nope. It’s hard to knock out years of dogged self-reliance in one fell swoop. However, I did learn it’s not a weakness to ask for help. I also learned you just have to live life and love your people. Oh! If a helicopter ride is on your bucket list, make sure to specify it’s for fun…not a medical emergency.
P.S. Complications forced me back into the hospital in January. Luckily, I was closer to home this time at Elkhart General. Everyone there was kind and caring which took the sting out of the setback. It’s going to take some time to get back to full strength, but as the song from Chicago says, I’m feeling stronger every day.
Music: Feelin' Stronger Every Day by Chicago