In the valley

Last Friday I went to a place called 'Valley Hospital' here in Las Vegas. What was to be a simple day surgery turned into a five day stay in the hospital and a drive down a lonely road through the valley of the shadow of death for me.

Some of you know that I have not been so well for the last months or couple of years. I suffer from several inflamatory conditions throughout my body. The Drs. do not know what is causing my problems or how to cure them.

Friday I went to the hospital to have a simple procedure to cut off the internal bleeding to my right ankle so that I would not get another ulcer on that ankle. I went to the hospital, processed in and was prepped for surgery. As usual, the IV was put in and vitals taken. And, as usual, my oxegyn level was alittle low so I was given a breathing treatment before being wheeled into the operating room. Once ready to go I was helped to the operating table, both arms strapped out to the side and a mask placed over my mouth to deliver the anastesia.

The next thing I know, I am laying in the recovery room with loud alarms going off around my bed and a very LOUD Phillippino nurse literally YELLING at me to BREATHE. There was mask over my mouth, same as was in the operating room, and the alarms relentless discord vibrating through me. I had a real difficult time coming out of the anastesia. It felt like I was there, yet not there at the same time. I felt incredibly at peace, despite every single inch and volume of chaos around me. I can remember thinking that 'if this is what it would feel like to die, then the experience was far more peaceful and welcoming than anyone could ever imagine'. It felt like I lay there in that peaceful state for quite some time, but eventually they rolled me back into the original preproom where I was prior to the surgery. I was still not all together with it and the breathing alarms would go off every few seconds or so, which brought another nurse to my beside, screaching loudly and telling me to breathe. This nurse even went so far to state, 'If you don't breathe you are going to die!' Yep, she said those words, and even my husband can vouch for that.

I had to be hospitalized and underwent several tests. My hands, wrists, the inside of my arms at my elbows and even my stomach are black and blue for all of the needle jabs in me. Many conditions were eliminated as to what was NOT wrong with me. No blood clots to the lungs. No infection or phenumonia, nothing of the sort. Yet my oxegyn intake was in the very low 80's when it needs to be at least 95.

I am on heavy medications including steroids. I have put myself on the strictest of diets and have about ten new medications to keep track of. I have been sent home with an oxegyn tank, and there is a very strong likelyhood that if the medications do not help the perceived inflamation that has spread to my lungs that I will be dependant on an oxegyn tank for the indefinate future. This will make working difficult if it gets to that point and I may have to go on disability. I pray that the medication works. The steroids elevate the sugar so I have to take more diabetic medication to counteract it.

I feel horrid right now. It was rough to be in the hospital, and I scream in pain when I try to bend my left arm for having an iv in it for five days.

I had an amazing elderly lady in the bed beside me that I want to tell you all about when I feel up to writing about her.

For now I need to rest. Really rest. So that is what I will do today. No one rests in the hospital for all of the noise at night and constant breathing treatments and tests and blood work and needles!

For all I've been through and still facing, I know that there are alot of people far worse off.

I probably won't be online alot for the next few days. I need to heal. I am alive. I have driven down what felt like that solitary road to what could have been death. And as isolating as that journey may have been, it was an experience that I will never forget.