Strong Memorial Hospital. The closet hospital that does liver transplants. I was there just in case.
After about a week I start to regain consciousness for short periods of time. Then I slept. And slept. And slept. I am finally awake to actually hear the doctors say that the levels are coming down. Both liver and kidney.
I am moving away from the slip into a coma stage and turning away from the light. There are ice chips.
My enemy has been put on the back burner with heavy does of antibiotics and pain medication. Not Tylenol.
Things start to look up. I am removed from ICU and taken to a regular floor. But something doesn't feel right.
Welcome phenomena. Back to ICU and a few more days lost to sleep and unconsciousness.
This time they keep me there for several days to make sure I'm better.
And I did feel better. Everyone there was fabulous! And I start to notice as the days go on they are insanely good looking. Abercrombie without the attitude.
Are there requirements? Are there signs that say you must be this good looking to work here with pictures of Jason Priestly or the cast of Sex in the City. I have no idea. But I was not the only one to notice.
Finally it's time to move to the transplant floor. Again. Everyone is so wonderful! They are kind and patient. Just incredible.
On this floor it's not Abercrombie. It's The Colors of Benetton. Between the nurses and doctors and staff there must have been five or six different cultures and they were all good looking to.
If they had wore brightly colored striped sweaters and hats I would have had an eighty's flashback.
Okay. Phenomena is getting better. Blood work in getting better. My arch enemy is chilled out for the time being.
Unfortunately, in order to help they had to hydrate me. About 20 pounds worth. My arms, stomach , head are about three times their normal size. (I am such a geek. I kept asking my mom to bring my camera so I could get pictures. I think she thought it was tacky as she never brought it.) I never would have thought my arms and hands could get that huge. I couldn't bend them.
Then of course it happens. I'm huge, I look like death did a salsa dance on me, in bright red heels no less. When my nurse for the day comes in. It's DaRo. A man I haven't seen in about 15 or more years. We have a grand time reminiscing. That will be a post all it's own. I think we frightened a few people. Sorry Dr. O.
It was just so... I can't think of a proper word. But it rocked. I can be out and about in my city and not see one person I know. Then I'm all the way in Rochester and here's someone I haven't seen since we were kids. Life. Funny isn't it?
Finally there is talk of home! Oh joy! Things are removed from my body. I'm free! Almost.
There's the central line left. Used for IV stuff and blood work. No extra needles for me. I was happy about that.
The day is here. The ride home is coming around dinner. Paper work is being filled out. The line comes out. Hmm. It sure is bleeding alot. Wow. I think it's running down my back.
The intern quietly and very calmly asks someone to get DR. O.
For a brief moment I think, I made it through liver and kidney failure only to bleed out the day I get to go home. Fuck that!
But yay! DaRo knows exactly what to do, we've had it done many a time. Full on just short of snapping the clavicle pressure. Oh yeah.
Needless to say. I stopped bleeding.
Then it was time for some dinner and then homeward bound!
DaT and G arrived and off we went.
I arrive home. I'm happy. G is happy. The cats are happy.
The next day. I don't feel quite right.