CVICU

I seem to be dreaming only I don't remember falling asleep. I slip in and out of nothingness.  There is a black inky haze around me, almost like I'm in a bubble. My subconscious recognizes partial reality, like I know I'm in a hospital bed and there are people around me I know and love. My husband, John is here and his presence sets me at ease. There are others I have never seen. Some of these people strike such fear in me I resist them and fight them with all I have. They try to keep me still but I want to escape. They seem upset with me but I don't know why. Some of them talk to me, others talk about me, over me. They are all faceless but their energy, their presence I can sense when I dip into a wakeful state. 

When the people around me panic or seem condescending I react like a defiant child thrashing and refusing to listen. Its not that I'm trying to be difficult, I'm just so confused. There are people on every side of me holding me down. They are all talking at once saying my name, trying to persuade me to be calm. No, no, no I can't be calm. You are hurting me, forcing me to do things I'm unsure of. I struggle and try to push them off. I grab an arm that is pushing exceptionally hard and squeeze so forcefully my nail breaks right to the quick. I realize the arm belongs to a nurse who pulls back quickly and winces giving up. I see her face, the pain I just caused and wonder what has happened to me. Before I can think anything else, I black out.

There is one nurse, maybe he has dark hair I'm not sure, but I know him by his tattoo sleeves and his calm demeanor. I almost trust this stranger and try my hardest to be compliant with his requests. He tells me to keep my hands still, I can't grab at the cords.The cords are everywhere, I want nothing more than to yank them off and jump out of bed but I can barely feel my body. The tattooed nurse leaves and there is shuffling around me. Something is happening but I cant tell what. There is panic rising in me, should I fight back or brace myself? Before I can decide something is jammed hard and fast into one of my nostrils. I am filled with fear and rage. I am sobbing, flailing and they strap my wrists to the bed. I feel completely helpless and alone. 

Another nurse sits somewhere in my peripheral vision, she types on a computer with her back to me.  She talks to me without turning around telling me how sorry she is. She tells me she can't free my hands because I keep yanking my tubes. I continue crying for what seems to be several minutes and she seems to be ignoring me so I'm surprised when she comes to my bedside. 

"Promise me you will not grab at your tubes?" I nod my head. She frees my wrists and explains to me how important that tube is. I black out before she is finished.

Some bits of consciousness are so brief I'm not sure whether they are nightmares or reality. I struggle against searing pain in my sides as it feels like something is jammed in between my ribs right under my arms. There is something hard tied onto my hands and feet and it is bothering me. I just want it off, just want to rest. I am trying to hold my head up but my neck feels like rubber. There is something wrong with my vision.  My head feels strange and my hair feels like a matted nest rubbing my scalp. The nurse on the computer that freed my wrists talks about washing it and hopes she can loosen the tangles. There are flowers, a stem of baby's breath tied to the rail on my bed. My friend put it there I think. I try and write notes to people unsure of why no one can understand my handwriting. A man who I think might be a doctor wants me to try texting but I cant seem to get my hands to work correctly. In my head, I am talking circles around everyone asking a million questions, telling them exactly what I want but they usually guess wrong. I just want John. 

There are flashes of the pictures taped to the wall, Me, my husband, my close relatives, friends. Smiling. The faces that stick out the most are my children's, my baby, he's not even 1 yet. Why? I see the pictures every time I wake. They comfort me. But why are they are taped to the wall? Have I been here long? Am I staying? I just want to hold my baby. I hurt for him. The ache and longing can't be dulled like the pains in my sides.  Something is not right. I need to be taking care of my baby but I'm helpless. In my foggy, irrational state between black outs and being awake I wonder if I am pregnant. The last hospital stay had to have been when I was in premature labor. Yes, I must be pregnant and the baby for sure has to be distress. I try to ask John every time I see him but no words come out. The words circle endlessly in my brain, "Is the baby ok? Is the baby ok?" John is the only one who can decipher what I'm thinking, the words I mouth to him. He keeps telling me Joel is fine, not to worry. I shake my head. I have to make him understand, I ask again. I need to say it a different way, I rack my cloudy brain like its a demented game of charades.

"Am I pregnant?" I touch my stomach.

"Pregnant?" He repeats making sure he heard me. "No, you're not" he looks at me with endearing and tired eyes, watery blue just like my youngest son's. 

"Are you sure?" I mouth. He nods. I breathe a sigh of relief. That thought has tortured me for days. I can let go of the hallucination, seeing a baby fighting to live in my womb. I black out.

My friend comes to see me a lot. She talks to me and tries her absolute hardest to understand me and make me comfortable. I write notes back to her. I write that I am doped up and she laughs. I tell her I want a cherry slushie from Sonic. I can't remember the last time I had something to drink, the thirst is next to unbearable. What else can she do? my friend wants to know, anything at all. I touch my hair. It feels so uncomfortable like its in knots all over my head. Could she wash it? Comb it?

"A haircut? You want a haircut?!" she guesses. I nod, wondering if this brilliant idea is even possible. Do they let you get haircuts in the hospital? My friend gets out her phone immediately.

"I'll text Julia, I know she would be thrilled to do it!" she says about the stylist that we share.

I'm not sure how much time passes but the next thing I know Julia is there. She's the kind of stylist who is an angel, in the past I always walk away from her feeling refreshed and knowing that I was listened to. I'm happy to see her. She works through my hair with gentle patience giving me the pixie cut only narcotics could've given me the courage to request. I've always loved the look of this cut on other people, what better time than now? It feels so freeing to be rid of the tangled mass of hair. There's a spot where the leads were stuck on my scalp that is stripped of hair and Julia is careful to leave the surrounding hair long enough to cover it. I feel grateful for her visit and that my friend took such good care of me.

It's not long after the day of my haircut I know I will be leaving. I am awake more and more but there are still gaps in my awareness. My bubble of reality has grown a little larger. I know my mom is here and is preparing to leave with me

I am being pushed down a long bright hallway that is beginning to fill with people, all lined up on either side. One by one they turn to me and smile and begin to clap. They are all clapping and cheering and waving. I slowly smile pretending to know what is going on. I am surprised but happy to accept the gesture. I am leaving so I should be happy, although I'm not exactly sure where I'm going. I don't think I'm going home though. 

There's a man who reminds me of my old pastor who looks overjoyed to see me waiting at the door. He has tears in his eyes. He talks about God and miracles. He must know me but I have never seen him before. Later I'm told this is the same ambulance driver that successfully executed my risky transport from another hospital nearly a month ago. 

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I chose to write this post this from a first person point of view so the reader can experience it the way I did. If some parts were puzzling at first then I've achieved my goal. I didn't realize what was happening or how serious my condition was until I was transferred out of ICU and weaned off all the heavy sedatives. I must have asked the people around me a million questions trying to piece it all together. As they would tell me different bits of information and stories it would unlock parts of my memory and ultimately the above account was what I was left with. This is probably one of the most terrifying yet relieving phenomenons I experienced. To have went through so much without being mindfully present is both a blessing and a curse. 

I often have the thought that this portion of my hospital stay was harder on my family than it was on me. I know that they were emotionally suffering along side of me and sacrificing energy and self care many times just to be with me. My family and close friends spent countless hours in the waiting room. My husband would not leave except to shower and nap in a bed for a few hours at home or at the nearby hotel where my mother in law kept my kids. He had a cot in the waiting room where he would try to rest and eventually they let him stay in the room with me. The strength that he had to have and the fear I know he lived with during this time breaks my heart. However, it also conjures a deep gratefulness to have such a devoted, selfless man sharing life with me. 

Although I was getting better and no longer in immediate danger I still had a long road ahead. As I was moved from CVICU to LTAC (Long Term Acute Care) more challenges started coming and I was fully awake to them. This next leg of the journey proved to be the most difficult.

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