After the wheelchair ride to the front door...

...it felt good to be out of there. Now what? After a close call like that in a way I'm more afraid of what might happen than I ever thought I could be of anything. Sure I was scared in the hospital because of what just happened but as long as I was there it never really sank in. Let's face it. It's safe there because you're always being watched and monitored. If something happens you've got tons of people rushing in to take care of any problems you're having. You end up feeling torn between wanting to be home and wanting to be safe.

In the hospital you don't worry about every little twinge, cramp or ache being a sign of another one on it's way. If it was they'd be all over you right? But when you're home. When there's no more monitors. No more beeping that drives you crazy but reassures you at the same time. No more nurses taking blood, piss and checking your leads at all hours of the night. Ripping your hair, skin and playing hide and seek with your veins in an attempt to find a new place for your IV's. Oh but you're supposed to be getting lots of rest aren't you? A good nights sleep? Give me a break already! And that food! Please let's not go there. Their food has a rep for a reason and it's not to win any culinary awards.


But beyond all that you are now home. Finally. Trying to make sense of it all. Wondering at all the information, pills and advice you've been given. Trying to sort out what they said, what people tell you and wondering what those people mean when they give all that free advice. The ones who start in on what happened to Uncle Chester, Aunt Mary, their Dad, their granddad, etc. How they just went on and did fine. Just don't overdo it. Do this. Do that. Holy Cow! Can't you people see I'm trying to figure out how to just stop being afraid because my tit muscle twinged after being laid up for a week and my hearts going crazy thinking I'm having another one! Enough already! 

Then there's the ones who think you should be out running marathons or something because you look so much better. And this way you get in shape which is just what the Dr. said right? 

I mean here you are feeling like you just escaped death. Now you're feeling like you're living on borrowed time. And depending on how much work they had to do you can feel like a week old kitten and the Dr. wants you to walk thirty minutes a day. And the pills they give you make you feel even weaker because they slow down your heart, lower your blood pressure, make you bleed like stuck pig without stopping and give you headaches. This is living? Where is this magic energy to do all this supposed to come from to overcome all those side affects and live at least something like a normal life again? 

That's what this blog is going to be all about and I'll keep posting here with all the info I've found out on my own journey through it all. Hopefully it'll make sense to you and get you to realizing there really is a life worth living out there. That while it may not be the same life it can be a VERY LONG happy, productive and healthy one. 

You see this is not like you're in combat, a dangerous job or working on a high rise where the risk is high along with the danger. This is the helpless feeling of having no control over your situation, the circumstances or the outcome. Walking blind never knowing where the next pit is hidden much less being able to see it before you get there. You got caught by surprise this time. Who says it will be any different the next? I'm here to tell you there are things you can do. There are ways to move beyond them and not everything they told you at the hospital is true. 

Are you ready?