I wake again a little more clear. The voices are a little louder and have actual words attached to them. "Heather, Heather. Wake up. Your done with surgery and in recovery now." Without moving my body I open my eyes and look toward the woman. She placed a button in my hand and said, "this is your button that will give you morphine. Any time you're in pain go ahead and press it." I gripped the button like it was my life line. Closing my eyes I wiggled my toes. I can't feel my left foot but my toes moved which meant the surgery didn't paralyze me. I then lay still and enjoy the calm of my body eventually dozing off again.
The next thing I remember was being in a much smaller room by myself. The intense pain that I had before urgency was gone but as I tried to move my leg it just didn't want to move. I was told that once I had surgery I would be like new again. There would be no pain and numbness and my leg would work normally. I knew as soon as I tried to move that this wasn't the case for me. A nurse came into my room and wanted me to get out of bed. I moved my right leg toward the side of my bed but my left leg didn't move. "Can you help me move my leg to the side," I asked. The nurse pulled back the blanket to reveal my long slender leg that is now nothing but skin and bone. Gently she pulled my left leg to the side of the bed while I raised my body from the bed. She allowed my leg to slip from the bed and dangle off the edge. I cautiously lowered myself from the bed and was able to stand on my right leg with my left toe barely touching to floor. I wasn't able to straighten my leg enough to allow the bottom of my foot to touch down. I hobbled to the bathroom using my IV pole for stability just about three steps away and then back again. That was enough to put me back in bed for the night.
The next morning the nurse helped me from my bed and I made another trip to the bathroom. I felt a little stronger this time. Before surgery I had been in so much pain that I hadn't been able to eat so it felt really good to eat a good breakfast that morning. My mom had come to visit and we were talking about my progress. I had wished there had been more significant changes but was hopeful things would get better quickly. A man entered my room with meds for a nebulizer treatment. I had been sick just before surgery and after being intubated the doctor wanted to make sure I was continuing to improve and my asthma didn't get worse. My mom left to get a snack while I took my treatment and was back just shortly after the respiratory therapist left my room. She brought back a bowl of fruit with her as she sat down and began to chat with me. I started feeling like something just wasn't right. I asked my mom what she was eating. When she told me fruit I asked her to take it out. Before I had allergy shots years ago I had been severely allergic to fruit. I hadn't reacted in years but something wasn't right and I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Only a minute had past and I began feeling like I was choking on something. I asked my mom for a drink and explained that I felt like something was stuck in my throat and I was having a hard time swallowing it. I took a drink but it didn't help. My throat was increasingly scratching and my voice was getting raspy. I asked my mom to go get the nurse. When they both returned I explained how I was feeling. She reached into her pocket and handed me a throat lozenge. I refused to take it and said, "I feel like I have swelling in my throat and you want to give me a throat lozenge?" She turned away and said that she was going to get the respiratory therapist. She walked away and they both returned quickly. He already had a pen light in hand and was standing over me ready to look. "There appears to be some redness and swelling," he announced. They said they would be right back and they both left the room. Whatever it was that I felt was stuck in the back of my throat was getting worse. I gave a little cough and something in the back of my throat moved. It hit me like a ton of bricks. My throat was swelling even more and what I felt stuck in the back of my throat was my uvula. Essentially I was swallowing my own throat. I asked my mom if I had splotchy redness anywhere on my body with pail white around it. She stood closer and looked over me. "Your neck and down your chest is turning bright red," she replied with worry. "Mom, I'm getting worse. Go get help!" It was increasingly hard to breath now. Each breath squeezing past my swollen uvula attempting to suck it down my wind pipe. To keep from choking and to open my wind pipe more I tilted my chin up toward the ceiling. Then panic set in. I just sent the only person who had been in the room with me away. I could no longer shout for help and I couldn't get out of bed. I was trapped. Trapped in this bed and trapped in this body. My arms pressed down on the bed where I lay pushing my body up toward the ceiling with my hands gripping the bedding. My legs bent at the knees lay lifeless at the bottom half of the bed. "Stay calm," I thought, "I can't loose it. Just breath. Slow. In and out. Oh Lord, be with me." I could hear voices coming toward the door. A team stepped into my room. A man stood over me saying, "hi Heather, we are the emergency response team and we are going to help you out." He looked into my throat and announced to the team that my back of my throat was nearly swollen shut. I watched him walk to the end of my bed where he and another woman talked to my nurse and respiratory therapist about my condition. I began to shake uncontrollably as air barely passed through to my lungs making a deep screeching sound. A woman walked over and felt my forehead and asked if I was cold. I shook my head no. She announced to the team that I was going into shock. The man told the nurse to page the on call ER doc STAT. The woman put a warm blanket over me and pulled it up to my chin. She reached her arms around me and drew her face in close to mine whispering, "hang in there, sweetie. Your doing great. Just keep doing what your doing and you will be fine." The man told the nurse to get the epinephrine ready. She left and returned immediately. The man stood beside me and tried to reassure me saying, " we are ready to give you the epi as soon as the doc comes in and agrees. Just hang in there until he gets here." That being said the doctor walked in. Without even looking at my chart he looked down at me and said, "yep, give her the epi." I could feel it enter my body and felt immediate relief. The doc told the other staff that I needed to be moved down to the ICU for the next three days and then walked out of the room. The man from the emergency response team gathered up my wiring and wheeled me out of that room and down to the ICU and got me checked in. I spent the rest of the evening and through the night unable to swallow normally and having to lay flat and keep my head tipped back to keep from swallowing my uvula. My mom was a terrible wreck crying, "I thought you were going to die and they were all just standing there watching you." Her visits to the hospital were not as ofter after that.
Psalm139:4-5
4 “Show me, LORD, my life’s end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting my life is.
5 You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Everyone is but a breath,
even those who seem secure.
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