Miami Valley Hospital

I am awake.

I still look for the person who took the blanket off of me, so positive they moved to my right when they removed the blanket.  But, no one is there.  I hear someone say something and look left.

My sister Jeri is smiling at me. "Well, hi there!" She is sitting on a small couch across from the foot of the bed.

I must have drifted off because when I opened my eyes, my dear friend Penny is standing next to me, holding my hand. She was smiling, talking and I think crying. While I’m lying there my brother Randy walks in, looking at Jeri and talking (I think) then sees that I am awake. “Whoa! Hey there!” He smiles.  He is surprised that I'm awake.

(Be aware as you read this.  I am positive that I am NOT remembering in proper order, but I am remembering.  That is what is important.)

Apparently, Randy has been discussing with Jeri and Shelby what to do with me. I have no living will in place so they have to make some decisions.  Being on the ventilator for over four weeks, it seemed I would not be able to breath on my own.  Randy was already talking to someone from a rehab place.  I think I may have been on my way before the ventilator came off.

Randy asks Penny to leave the room as they need to discuss issues that are for family only. Penny leaves and a man enters. He is from a place called Kindred Hospital. (Note:  I tried to tell Randy that Penny should stay as she is like a sister to me.  I didn't want Penny to feel left out.  My mouth or voice doesn't seem to be working properly)

It does not occur to me (until much later) that I have Randy listed as my emergency contact and the person who is responsible for making decisions on my behalf.

Thinking I may never get off the ventilator, the hospital couldn't help me any longer.  They have discussed with my family something called “step-down” rehabilitation. Basically one place gets you to a certain point then you’re passed off to the next rehab place.  That sounds cruel (the way I put it) but it is as true a statement.  Now that I am better, I realize that they didn't think I would ever get off the ventilator.

I am in no condition to make decisions for myself but Randy and Jeri, God Bless them, look at me for confirmation each time a question was asked and they had to answer. We all agreed that I should be moved to Kindred. Time frame is seven to ten days.

When the man left I asked Jeri to come closer. I tell her I have to go to the bathroom.  She looks at me, trying not to smile. “You have a catheter, just let go.” Easier said than done, but I did.  I think she was surprised that I felt the urge to go. I don’t think one should feel that urge if one has a catheter. (I also remembered when that catheter was put in)

I am scared. Penny had to leave, Randy had to leave and I ask my sister if she can stay a little longer. I am remembering my dreams and do not want to be alone. She agrees and stays until I fall asleep.

I don’t think I slept very long. I am determined to stay awake. Remembering a couple of the dreams has me very upset and I begin to cry. I do stay awake though, on and off.

I get through the night without any pain, no guards over me and no key to find.

I must be doing better as Jeri feels it is okay to tell me that she and Eric have decided to go to our niece Sarah’s wedding. The wedding is the following weekend but they want to go down a week before. I am okay with this but just a little leery.

When my friend Becky comes to visit she tells me that she will be gone for about two weeks, after Jeri and Eric return home.  She will be helping her cousin.

I sleep a lot. I am becoming uncomfortable not used to lying in bed all day. I’m hot then cold. I can’t turn on my side and my feet have some sort of “boots” on that are thickly lined with lambs wool.

I have lost time. Just over a month. I am upset at this thought and begin asking questions.  Becky is taking care of Micah, my good friend Sandy is taking care of Mr. Mister. Believe it or not, I am aware and relieved that most of my bills are paid automatically. At least the major ones. I will figure out the smaller ones later.

Two things I remember while I was on the ventilator.

Penny’s daughter, Emily works at MVH.  I remember Emily talking to me twice while I am out of it. The first time she is in my face, literally, smiling and talking to me. “You’re doing so good. Keep it up Shirley!” I remember reaching up and touching her face and trying to talk to her. The second time was much the same but I remember thinking how beautiful she is. I do remember that both times, Emily held my head in her hands making me look at her as she talked to me.

I remember seeing my niece Sarah. She is standing near the foot of my bed and smiling at me. I think she is talking to me. I can hear her voice, I recognize her voice but she is just smiling. I don’t see her mouth move and her voice is so far away.  (Jeri tells me later that Sarah is with Adam, her fiance and introduces him to me.  I don't remember that part at all!)

Jeri is gone and I am alone. I think I do pretty well and Becky does visit, just not every day.  She lives in Brookville.  I asked that the boots be removed from my feet and when they were off, my body felt so free!

More than once I become afraid and cry.

I also start to become aware of my body.  No one has tried to do anything with my hair.  It was braided down my back when I went to the doctor’s office.  My fingernails are twice as long and my skin looks snow white because it is so dry and flaky.

One nurse is kind enough to try and do something about my hair. It isn't until she begins, do either one of us realize just how bad it is. It’s not just tangled, it is matted. She tries to brush it out but in doing so, pulls hair out. She's not hurting me but so much hair comes out in chunks we both decide it’s not worth it. She promises to return the next day to cut it off.

That same day, a woman from the rehabilitation department comes and talks to me.  She wants to get me up.  Okay!  Sitting up is a major accomplishment, and I tend to bob back and forth.  She wants me to stand and  assures me she can take my weight. She will help me and I'm trusting and oh so willing. She pulls me up and I am a rag doll! I can't even wrap my arms around her for support.  She promptly drops me.  I don't hit the floor but still, it frightened me to tears.  I think she was surprised at how weak I was and wasn't prepared for me not to be able to help her, help me.

She is full of apology and all I can do is cry.  I am an emotional person, always have been and most likely always will be.  But, it does seem that crying comes a bit too easy.  And at this point, so does a little fear.

The next day I am being moved. Early. No hair cut and no more trying to stand up. There is a hustle and bustle of getting everything ready, making sure I have everything that’s mine. My purse and my cane. They ask if that’s all I had and I really can’t remember if I had anything else.

An ambulance takes me to Kindred Hospital.