Life

Well, it has been an extremely long time since I have written and a lot has happened, to say the least. February 11, 2021, I began to get sick and out of nowhere, that afternoon, I started running a 105 deg fever. I should have gone to the doctor right then but I have so much medical trauma, PTSD, and Covid was still going, so I was terrified to go. I thought maybe it was something simple like a sinus infection or cold, so I treated it like I normally do. A little ibuprofen, echinacea, and some immune boosters. I had been taking echinacea regularly for a couple of years as well.

Fast forward to a month later. I would have off and on days when I thought I was gradually getting better. Then there would be the days when my whole body would give out. Two months later, I couldn't sleep or breathe laying down but still, I refused to go to the ER or a doctor because when I had been previously sick, they were no help or didn't understand what was going on and would just give up on me.

My parents had retired earlier in 2020 and had decided they were coming to visit me (they still live 2300 miles away in my hometown). We all thought this just might be gnarly sinuses and I had spoken to doctors via telehealth, and they would advise me, which eventually still did no good. My parents came to see us in May 2021, and I tried so hard to spend time with them, to go out, for my husband and me to enjoy the time we had with them. To no avail, I couldn't breathe well enough to do anything. Everyone started to worry, especially considering I would fall asleep randomly and was starting to get where I could barely walk... with my legs horribly swelling. My mom and dad went out and helped my husband look for a wheelchair for me because my legs were severely starting to give out. A week later, they had to go home.

By June 2021, my legs had become like marshmallows. I could feel them still but walking was becoming all but impossible. Add on top of that the fact that I was either having to sleep hunched over or straight up because I would feel like I was drowning every time I laid down. By this point, I had also been throwing up for months. I was holding food down ok but almost everything else would come up. I fell randomly one day, stuck on the floor for 2 1/2 hours trying to figure out how to get up, get to my phone, and call my husband. I still swear to this day, something lifted me off the floor and sat me on the side of the tub, so I could call him.

While all this was happening, I was also having extremely strange visions and dreams, and eventually, the thought of going to the doctor didn't even become an option in my mind and to this day, I still can't explain why. I started coming to terms with the fact that I was either going to be permanently paralyzed or die. I started making end-of-life decisions, which was destroying my husband because he had no idea how to help me anymore. This was it, I was resigning to what I believed to be my fate.

July 2021, I became mostly unconscious. All I could do was eat and sleep. I needed help to get to the bathroom and showers were torture because the breathing issues would become worse. I would throw up randomly, and I really never knew when it was coming.

Towards the end of July, my body started to shut down and I almost didn't recognize the signs. I had not eaten in 4 days, I couldn't control my body at all. I called my mom to try to reassure her I was ok, but she knew better. My voice was completely gone and it took everything I had to talk and not throw up. That night, I dreamed about my Grandma, who I was always close to, that died when I was 16. She was screaming at me that I was dying and to get myself to the hospital asap. Screaming repeatedly GO NOW. The next day, my husband and his best friend got me to the hospital.

I came into the ER, and they rushed me back. I had to go alone because of Covid policies. They tested me for Covid... negative. They tested me for everything and could not find an answer. Two hours later, I had 4 IVs running medication and fluids. I knew things were bad when the nurse offered to put oxygen on me to help with the hyperventilation and panic attacks I didn't even realize I was having.

They finally let my husband come back with me, and I knew they were going to admit me. They got me admitted and comfortable and I sent my husband home because he had to work the next day.

I got a visit from Infectious Diseases and the CDC because no one could figure out what was wrong with me, if I was contagious, and what to do. Turns out, I was not contagious, I was in the final stages of dying, and they were rushing doctors and surgeons from all over the country to help me.

They decided on a chest tube first to get the infection out and while that did work, my left lung never re-inflated. I had to have my whole lung removed. The rest of me was fine except my legs still would not work, and they had no idea why. It turned out, they never figured out the infection but I did have Guillian-Barre Syndrome, though none of us knew it at the time.

During surgery, I lost 6 pints of blood and had to have a transfusion. I slept for 24 hours and flat-lined a few times. They were preparing my husband for me to possibly not come out of it... but I did, and I am here now.

They told me it would be a long road to recovery and I would need home health. I was in the hospital for 14 days and while I was recovering from surgery, I felt like I had not eaten in years. I came out of surgery starving hungry, and they immediately got me food.

I had IV antibiotics and a pic line for 28 days after that. Home health and physical therapy at home. Now it is February 2022, I have extreme CPTSD, but I am getting better. I am walking, and they said I may never walk again. I do still have to use a wheelchair because I can not take long walks and probably will never be able to, and that is ok. I am living and breathing with 1 lung and not having to use oxygen. I have more respect for the medical community than I ever have, and Colorado is definitely my permanent home. I am healthy, with no problems such as heart issues, BP, diabetes, or cholesterol issues. I have a career I love, a strong-healthy marriage, and a new appreciation for life even amongst the chaos. I take only THC (which is recommended by my doctors and surgeons) and yes, I have had the Covid vaccine with zero side effects. I am starting to remember everything that happened, including waking visions of things there is no explanation for how I know... because I was either asleep or sedated at the time. My intuition is 10 times stronger than it has ever been.

I won't EVER let myself get that sick again. EVER. There is still no explanation for how I got so sick and spiritually, I have my theories that I will keep to myself, for now, possibly forever. I also remember what I saw in my dream states and where I was when on the “other” side and out of it. I don't practice as much now, I don't need to. I know things have my back, and that is something else I am not prepared to explain.

It took me from August 2021 to now (February 2022) to be comfortable sitting down and writing all this. I am still too uncomfortable and private about some details, and that is ok too. I have a new appreciation for my body and the way it sustains me, I now understand the disconnect between body and soul that can happen, I understand people (in general) better, I have a more tolerant outlook, but I am still a homebody lol.

I miss my family dearly, and all that I left behind in my home state, but I know if I had gotten sick there, I would have surely died.

I hope this helps someone out there. Someone who might be skeptical of the medical community, someone who doesn't know how to advocate for themselves, or someone that has all but given up. This life is worth living. Trust me.