Swan Song Unsung - Part II

[ravenpenny]

 It is a funny thing to contemplate the meaning of your own death. To know that you are near it or that it is near you. To know that you might not wake up tomorrow or even an hour from now. I’ve done it before. Many times. I have stared into the eyes of Death and every time I see the same. Sometimes it’s a choice. You get to decide how hard to fight. How much to give to last another day. Sometimes the butcher’s bill is due and there’s just not enough left of you to pay. But even in the inevitability of that, there is a choice. You can fight or it can be peaceful, but in either way you will go. I am very much a man who believes that you can fight against all odds. You can walk up to the will of Inequity itself and say, “No, you move.” But I do not pretend that I will always win. Sometimes the struggle itself is more important than the fight whether lost or won.

I won this time though. Somehow. I came out again and screamed what defiance I had left in me till it knocked the breath out of me and stole my voice. And still I screamed. I shouted “Not Today” until it was a mantra against the cold winds, I felt chill my heart, mind, and soul. Not Today I cried. Not Today. (I’m seriously considering getting that tattooed on me somewhere.)

So where did it begin? And how? Like it always does, with something small. With a pebble thrown at a mountain at just the right time and place to start an avalanche. I’d been having a earache for months before going to the ER on 4/24/24. I get them often enough and have through my life that I know how to deal and just move on. But this one was bad and it got worse. I finally went to the ER when I realized my Eustachian tube was basically a solid mass (that is NOT a good thing!) and my lymph nodes severely swollen. I’d also noted a rash on my forehead and I’d had a goopy eye for a while now (which I’d been getting seen for). The attending took a over like 5 seconds, came to the same conclusion, left, came back five minutes later with a “Z-Pac” and I told them about my head which they said would clear up too. I went home. The pain remained intense and started to spread to my head.

It got worse. I called my doctor the next day and they got me an appointment for Friday morning. He took one look at me told me I had shingles on my forehead and maybe my eye. Gave me lots of meds and told me two things – if my temp spiked, I needed to go to the ER again. If my eye swelled shut, I needed to go to the ER and get their FAST. I got the meds prescribed and went home and slept. I woke up and I was feverish and with a swollen eye. It took me 25 minutes from the time I realized both to get to the hospital. I was in full emergency mode. I could panic later.

They admitted me fast, did some tests, made me hurry up and wait, and eventually I got shipped over to the hospital with the emergency ophthalmology department. I spent hours in the ER room waiting and ended up with a migraine before they admitted me. It was bad. I knew it was bad. They started taking level 2 infectious disease procedures. I was ambulatory which was good given my size, but it was still rough. The pain was bad enough that they started a drip. The nurses were good and I quickly formed a tight bond with some of the Filipina aunties (I am a Filipino magnet and that is just fine by me).

I died that night. I just died. Heart stopped. One of my aunties was there and she saw me and rushed over to get help. I don’t remember anything of this, this is just what I was told. The entire crew was in there but there was some sort of issue. Before they could shock me back I sat up in the bed and asked my nurse to get closer. She said I said, “Not Today” and then just laid back as they worked on me. They spent the next several hours checking for more irregularities in my heart and found none. I just…died. Then I just…came back. Just like in 2011. Exactly like then. Everything seemed to be fine till it happened again the next day and they called in a ton of doctors and techs to find out what the hell was going on. They found nothing. I think I drove one of the doctors nuts because physically there was no reason I should have had that problem. Took them hours to find nothing. The pain was starting to recede some and the shingles were getting better. Even better, the blood infection I’d been hit with was especially vulnerable to the cocktail of drugs they had decided to use and it was basically just gone.

 I stayed in the hospital another two days and then they released me. I was tired but not died. That was enough. Or so I thought. Two days later I was back in the ER because I couldn’t deal with the pain or keep anything down. I was so terrified of going into DKA. At first the staff were a bit standoffish…but they realized I was in real trouble. I wasn’t Munchausen or there for a fix. The attending quickly came up with a plan. I was there all day…but it worked. I went home and did was I was told and I did start to get better even though I ate basically nothing.

Two days later at about an hour to midnight I couldn’t breathe. I was turning blue. I called 911 fast enough and then sat back and hope they’d be there soon enough. They were. Loaded me up in just shorts and my phone and then I got to stay in the ER again. It was not good. The staff really weren’t that great. I’m mad about it still. But I did come through it without the worry of a heart attack or the like and went home with a “you had a severe asthma attack” diagnosis.

Again, I did as I was told and then I started to improve. I was starving though. I finally got tired of soup and bread crusts and made bacon one morning with bread and tomato. I went to sleep expecting to throw it up at some point. I woke up feeling amazing. I didn’t go back on a lite diet after that. I just threw back the calories. And man did that improve like…everything.

It's been about a week since then and I’m weak as hell. I’m losing weight at an alarming rate (about 3.4 lbs. per day since my first ER visit on 4/24/24), but I feel like it’s mostly water weight. There is muscle loss for sure. But it feels like fat and water. We’ll see. Gotta see the doctor next week.

Regardless. I didn’t die. I survived. Again. For whatever stupid reason I’m still here.

And you know what? I got work to do.

(I wrote this up in Word and put it here and didn't copy paste all the way down. Apologies):

I would have been just straight up screwed without the help of the generous folk on the internet and my pocket friends. I've been able to recover enough and hopefully handle stray bills as they';ve come up to where it doesn't strangle me later. I can't pay you people back right now. Maybe one day. Maybe I'll have it in me and if I can't pay you maybe I can pay for another.

Comments

[synecdochic]

As far as I'm concerned, I would always prefer that people I help pay it forward instead. (And I am absolutely confident you will.) I'm still paying forward a lot of the help I've gotten in my life!

[ravenpenny]

:-)

[archangelbeth]

Pay it forward when you can, say I. O:>

[ravenpenny]

As you always do, O beloved mentor and teacher mine.

[ilyena_sylph]

I've only gotten to know you over the last few months, but I am very, VERY glad you are still here and are such a fighter, because my world would be poorer without you in it.

[ravenpenny]

I don't know any other way to be. This time was rough though. Maybe I'm just getting older and it's harder, but when I die it will not be because I have given up, but because the gas in the tank is gone and my engine as stalled and will not start.

I do not die lightly and I do not do it quietly. There is no whimper, but a bang and when my flame finally goes out it will ignite for the brightest of moments and then fade softly into the dark.

[ravenpenny]

And thank you. You and the others...have given me lots of comfort over the last few months. Y'all are so great. Makes my wake-ups each day a real treat. :-)