That my life has changed since we last spoke is a vast understatement. When I posted my last blog entry, I was in ICCU, three days after my heart attack, thinking that the worst was over. And as they say, ignorance is bliss.
Little did I know that while I waxed lyrically about the stent and the groin shave, the staff was fighting to keep me alive with some revolutionary new procedures, while trying to determine if and when I would be strong enough to endure the multiple bypass surgeries still to come.
Over the next few days, I discovered that I was one of the first patients this world-renown heart center had ever tried this new-fangled auxiliary pump on. I will tell you that it was like being on a stage as dozens of noted professionals, as well as interns and RN's came by to see this new gizmo in action.
At one point, which seemed to me at the time, to be in the middle of the night, there was actually a group of Facility Engineers gathered around my bed as they ooh'ed and aah'ed over the apparatus. And I heard the doctor's explanation of the pump to visiting dignitaries so often, you'd think I could write it here. But, alas, I cannot remember it today.
Needless to say, their efforts proved successful, and I am at least able to tell you about it today.
One interesting sidebar is that in the midst of everything else going on, I discovered the topic for one of my next stories. It's called "ICU (Intensive Care Unit) Psychosis".
ICU Psychosis is a generic term for the loss of contact with reality while in ICU. And while I had never heard of it before my ordeal; after my own personal experiences last week, I have begun to research it.
Supposedly, people with ICU Psychosis are given to suffering hallucinations and/or delusions, violence, and impaired insight. I won't bore you with my own frightening experiences today as they are still raw and painful. However, if this is something with which you are familiar and would like to share your experiences or expertise, please drop me an e-mail.
Thanks again for all the notes of encouragement and well-wishes. They tell me that the road to recovery is long and hard, but doable. For the moment, I hope you'll forgive my limited replies to your specific questions concerning STT. They also tell me that the surgical drugs should wear off soon, and that I'll be able to string together more than two sentences at a time. Hopefully, that means I'll be able to get back to writing soon. Please be patient with me.