It's been an amazing and scary 4 or 5 months for me. I lost a lot of pieces of me, pieces of my life, pieces of my heart. Find myself in a position now we're all the friends had are gone. I've made new ones and lost some of them as well. Where to start? I'm not even sure I guess I'll start just after Christmas my last blog I believe was, unfortunately, me justifying peoples ideals on me being worthless or not worth their time because I did not do, act, say or be exactly what it is they thought I should be. So let's start from there.
The morning of December 24th I had a second operation they removed the pinky toe and part of my right foot. At this point I'm in a wheelchair trying hard to heal and get back on my feet kind of but literally.
Everyone disappeared even more when I ended up in the hospital. the only Visitors I got while there was My KnightInAShiningMercedes, BlueShirt, and TheShocker. you all should remember them from previous Blogs. BlueShirt had just come to drop off my things and tell me I couldn't stay with him anymore and to wish me a well hereafter. Then he disappeared for the most part.
My Knight? He brought me things to keep me occupied in the hospital. Sketchpads, Magazines colored pencils, and chocolate. (not the best choice for a diabetic so he ate it) He sat with me and we watched the game. Some football playoff I wasn't really interested in. But I watched along with him to be a good "host". I was grateful he was there. Grateful for the company and really very scared. All I wanted to do is crawl into his lap. I needed to be held, feel warm and loved, The emptiness I had experienced the previous two months was pushing me to hate living. After the surgery, it wasn't much better.
I had gone to the emergency room one night after work. My Right foot had a sore on it, large but it didn't seem to be too bad. My left foot, had what I thought was a bigger sore. It stunk and was full of fluid. I was scared especially since the smell was detectable to others. BlueShirt had noticed it.
When I went to the ER I was rather fucked up. Coke, alcohol, and pot. So the waiting room was not unbearable it was actually quite entertaining. A woman there was rocking back and forth in her chair moaning like she was going to give birth. Her moans increasing in volume to a climax and relaxing again as if riding a wave of contractions. Her hair was matted like it hadn't been washed or combed for days. When she walked by me the fact she was trembling and had track marks on her arms told me she was a addict looking for a fix, not giving birth. (I hope) Not that the smell wasn't also a dead give away. Once in, the nurse took one look at my feet and told me I was going to have to be admitted. The next day I was corrected on my thoughts concerning the state of my feet/
I knew It was bad but I had no idea. I was also wrong about which foot was the worst. My left, Dr Zofaghari cleaned up first. She looked up at me and smiled.
"See this foot is fine. needs to heal but the only problem is it had water in the wound. So no more getting it wet. Not until it heals." She went to the other foot and poked around, she started cutting off the Necrotic flesh and looked up at me from between my toes. "Emmy, this one is not good. Its 3 times bigger than the other and I think...." She said as she put her metal Tool into the sore on my foot. My skin crawled when I felt and heard her hit bone. "If there is infection in this bone I am going to have to remove it."
"The sore it self," she went on to say "Is on the ball of yer pinky toe. So I will have to remove the toe and down to here." She pointed half way down my foot from my toe to heal. "So lets get some Xrays. But I need to tell you I do not think you will be able to keep it."
She shook my hand and left the room, I started to cry. It was December 23rd. Not that I had any hope of a christmas with anyone, but in the hospital? When she returned after the xrays she informed me the infection was well into the bone. Surgery was scheduled for the 24th.
Christmas eve
Wonderful, perfect, Merry Fucken Christmas.
For the sake of time and too much to read. Surgery went well, no one there. I cried going in. I got hysterical. They has to sedate me. Then, they put me under once my heart rate came down. When I woke up from the surgery I was greeted with the worst pain I had ever felt. Ironically it wasn't my feet. Well, not just my feet, my body from my waist to my toes felt as if they were being stabbed repeatedly with lil Forks. I screamed before my eyes were even open. When I did reach for the call button a nurse was already over me. I couldn't think, All I could focus on was the pain.
"My legs and hips," I shouted "Like I am being stabbed all over." I writhed on the bed, never felt anything like it. Wide spread and excruciating. I wanted to move and squirm as the pain hit but any movement on the bed even the sheets coming across my bare legs lightly caused so much pain I thought I was going to die.
"Ahhh," the nurse said "Yes sometimes after anesthesia, especially the dose you were given with the sedative, it can cause your nerves to not wake up so well" She moved to her Medicine cart with a speed that suggested a great deal of empathy. "Here, this will help" She said as she injected a clear liquid into my IV.
3
2
1
My heart grew warm like an explosion in my chest. (a pleasant one)
My body relaxed.
The pain melted away
Here is a moment we all have (unless you just do not like it) where we say to ourselves "No wonder people get addicted to this stuff." It felt like pure awesome exploded in my chest and as it radiated outward it melted away any pain I was feeling. I looked up at her tears in my eyes.
"Dilaudid" I said
"Dilaudid" She nodded.
Well Paint me blue and call me a smurf, If I could walk at that point I would have wanted to walk to the park and lay in the grass.
"That pain you just felt," She said, as if educating me on the trials of others. Like some public service announcement. "That is what people with fibromyalgia suffer daily. But They cant take that for the pain." I remembered my sister at this point and some others who had it.
Asleep again, bliss.
I Spent 3 days healing, antibiotics and then a nurse came to visit me. Said they needed to know where I was going after discharge.
"I know your last roommate kicked you out. Any other options?" She said with little or none of the empathy the nurse who stopped my pain displayed.
"Nowhere, none" I said.
Your friend told me the situation and he thought you might like TheHouse for your recovery. So I am having 2 women from there come and see you now. We are discharging you today to them if they accept you." She scribbled on her paper and turned to me holding the clipboard and pen out to me. Universal 'please sign this' body language.
When they walked in I wasn't really sure what to think of them or the place they were sending me. the nurse said it was assisted Living facility and these women would fill me in on the rest.
It was a short interview. Then I was discharged to the facility which was only 3 blocks from the hospital. Unfortunately they gave me my last dose of Dilaudid before I went so there isn't much I remember. Was on heavy pain killers and very depressed. My memory comes back when I met "PrettyBoy". This is also when I remembered something I was told by the women who interviewed me for the home.
TheHouse was not only a Assisted living facility but also a Drug rehab. So half was for people on medical respite and the other half was a behavioral rehab for drug addicts. Most of the men there were gay. When I met "PrettyBoy" I remembered what the women had said. A large portion if not all of the drug rehab is HIV positive.
Neither of these facts really bothered me. There was the initial stigma related Thoughts and feelings. Then the part of my brain that has been educated on HIV and on the Gay community kicked in and I had no problem co Existing with them. It was actually quite a trip.
I am going to delve this out in parts. Its a long story a lot of notes to go through. I haven't had a computer until last week and internet was inaccessible unless I was at a hospital.
Grab some popcorn. This story, in my biased opinion, is a doozey.
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