Claw marks in the frozen peas

The One Where I Reflect on the Last Six Months

I recall a thought I had on the morning of my laparoscopic cholecystectomy, it repeated itself in my mind like a broken record. “I can die today,” I thought. Typical things I’d think about never included death but more asinine ideas like what I want for lunch or whether I should wear pants.

When you’ve looked at death, things are never the same. You can lose it all, and then in a blink, it’s all given back to you. In those moments where you reflect on everything you have to lose, you realize that your life wasn’t worth much to begin with. The things I had to lose were tangible and insignificant like clothes, books, or various gadgets. For the first time ever, the notion of “You’ve got nothing to lose” made perfect sense. I find myself now with a new assertiveness based upon the idea that I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

What we call the beginning is often the end, and to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.
- TS Elliot

All Over Again

Twelve hours from now, I’ll be going under the knife for Laparoscopic cholecystectomy. Should any complications arise during surgery, they’ll have to perform open cholecystectomy. Best case scenario, I’ll continue living my life pain-free, and more importantly, worry-free. Worst case scenario, I wake up with three balls.

k, bbl.

whew.

For anyone keeping track of my epic gallbladder, I received word today that my application for MSI has been approved. I’m off the hook on 20+ thousand dollars in hospital debt, but my gallbladder still sucks. I think it would be neat if the surgeon did a live blog during the operation. It would go something like this:

9:00am : I’m washing my hands in preparation of removing left leg kidney gallbladder.
9:10am : Just finished my 8th cup of coffee. Maybe I shouldn’t be operating on this guy on 2 hours of sleep in the last 3 days.
9:30am : Initial incision complete
9:31am : Mmm… that nurse has a hot ass.
9:32am : Whoops.. flatline
9:40am : Okay, patient is alive again.

No Food or Drink, I think…

I went to the hospital yesterday to apply for MSI, which is government medical aid for those of low or no income. While I was sitting in the lobby waiting to meet with the person who handles applications, I looked up at this posted sign that read: NO FOOD OR DRINK IN LOBBY. Immediately to the left of the sign was a vending machine. So can I or can’t I enjoy a potato chip in the hospital lobby? I was so confused… I tried to snap a pic with the iphone, but the guy came out to greet me just as soon as I reached into my pocket.

Apprehension and other thoughts

I thought I was done tumbling about my hospital ordeal, but I’ve decided to share a few final thoughts…

I’ve found myself feeling a bit apprehensive when I eat now. I think to myself, “Will this cause me to hurt again?” When I go to bed, I think, “Will the pain come back tonight and will it be worse than before?” Being cleared from the hospital didn’t give me a magical clean bill of health. I’ll still have recurring pain until I have my gall bladder removed. I hate that I’m questioning routine.

I found it funny that everyone in the hospital treated me as if I was physically unable to perform simple acts like walking. I could walk fine even when I was in excruciating pain. However, these people are so incredibly selfless and kind. I felt bad whenever someone pushed me around in a wheelchair. I kept offering to walk, which I could do just fine. In fact, when I was hopped up on the miracle pain killer, I was fine enough to walk from my bed in the ER to the bathroom twice without assistance.

Being ill made me realize who my friends are, especially friends I didn’t know I had. When I was in the hospital, I was in good spirits and my wit never left me, but I couldn’t help but feel alone. I imagine that’s how most people feel when they’re stricken with some kind of serious ailment. Hearing from people, even “strangers” from tumblr made me feel better.

I visited a children’s hospital last December as part of a charity function I participated in. Every child I met had such a positive outlook on life, keyword being outlook; it didn’t matter that they’ve spent most of their young lives in and out of hospitals. We can learn just as much from youths just as much as we can gain knowledge from our elders.

I have a nasty bruise on my right arm from the creep who took blood while I was half asleep. He stuck me three times to find the vein and you can really tell. I’m not pleased about this at all. I have this impression that this guy has no respect for those who are ill. I doubt I’m the first person he’s mishandled.

I don’t believe in luck, it would be too easy to say that I was unlucky. It seems like we all want to believe in bad luck, but when good things happen, we never say that it was good luck. Perhaps there is such a thing as coincidence or happenstance. I believe that for every action, there is an opposite reaction - a philosophical version of Newton’s Third Law or karma. When I was laying in my hospital bed, I thought about how shitty my situation was and that something good has to happen to me soon. I suppose I was right, because as of today I’m no longer unemployed. I can’t say who my new employer is, but I will be the new Marketing Coordinator for a music venue that rhymes with the Mouse of Clues. *fist pump*

Hospitals - an opportunity for more dick jokes

When we were young, we’d never think twice about riding our bikes down a steep hill or jumping off of the swings. This sense of invincibility never really goes away as you get older. You never think anything can happen to you until it does. The moment where I realized that I’m no longer invincible didn’t come when I saw elderly folk who were sicker than I was, it came when I found myself having to pee in a plastic container. Finding yourself trying to aim your pee into a 2 inch opening while holding your gown off to the side and avoiding tangling your IV drip line really puts your life into perspective. At least for me it did…. You never realize your appreciation for simple things like a shower or using a toilet until you have those things taken away from you.

Hospitals, I don’t like them.

This isn’t quite a vacation. All I can think about is going home. I loathe this catheter most of all. Feelings of loneliness come and go while I lay in my hospital bed. I’ve been staring at the ugliest picture ever framed. Seriously, if there was a list of ugliest pictures framed since 1901, this would be number 1 or 2.

I listened to an elderly lady, in a bed beside me while I was still in the ER, wishing out loud that she would die because her pain is no longer bearable. I’ve always been highly adept at putting myself in the shoes of others, but I can hardly imagine her mindset.

My pain was so severe that they gave me a miracle drug. I suggested they rub WD-40 on my tummy, but they wouldn’t let me have my way. They shot me up with a pain killer, I think it was called Dodiderol, but I keep refering to it as Duder-ol, because even near death, I have to make a reference to Big Lebowski. Whatever this wonder drug is, I’m sure it’s made from the tears of 80 virgin girls, probably from Minnesota.

Oh, hey…

I’ll be on vacation for a few days. My gall bladder is too awesome for its own good, so I need to have surgery. No big deal.

brb!