Stripped

I am a baby. Not the wah-wah whiny kind, (although I have my moments, ask my long suffering Bald Man!)
I am nothing but the most essential me. I eat, I breathe, I am my most primordial self, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.
I can not care for myself physically , I am dependent and needy. Without extra care, I would not survive. Like any baby, right here, right now is all that matters. I manage what is in front of me, I have no extra energy for worry about tomorrow, or yesterday. Present.
I reach, to stretch, to walk just a few more steps today than I did yesterday. Whether I succeed or not, there is no negative self talk, now, just is. Success is in the doing. Be
Breathing is primal, when every breath I took for more than a week was fought for, I can not take my air for granted now. I am aware, multiple times a day of the air moving through my nose, down my throat, expanding into my lungs. I can feel it, whether deep or shallow. Each one, precious.
I am in love with my oxygen, what relief, what sweet peace it brings to breathe and to have breath. And when I have to work at it, how careful I am, to draw each one in, purposefully, with intent, to give to myself what I crave. Air.
Emotionally, I am laid bare. I have no extra energy to be embarrassed about my vulnerability. Normally I would rather die than cry in front of someone, as if my soul were naked. But now? If I feel like crying, I do, even if it exposes the core of me.
Spiritually, I am deeply aware of God's grace. My every breath is grace. Each day a gift.
I am grateful beyond words for the kindness and love shown to me. I am cherished, cradled, carried.
I accept, I love, I breathe. I am just, just me.

There is no place like home

Blogging from the couch. I am hooked up to one of these:O2 concentrator so I am breathing easy. Right now I am gathering up my courage to go take a shower. It just really kind of flattens me, so I have to be prepared.
On the road to recovery. Considering how I felt last week and how very dang close I came to exiting this existence, what can I be anything but grateful?
Everyone has been so very kind. Flowers and visits and chocolate and phone calls and get well cards and dinners. If I ever wondered if I am loved, I can never wonder again. I have been cradled in prayers, love and caring. While the rest of this hasn't been much fun, that part, that part is most precious. Thank you.

Still Here

They kept me for another day. My iron was very low, so they gave me IV iron in hopes that it will help me breathe, which I am sure it will. Most likely I will go home tomorrow. My liver definitely sent up the white flag and has stopped producing the clotting factors like a good little liver. I am much closer to being as thin blooded as they want. I have had some ups and downs, but as I sit right now, I am feeling better than I did yesterday. After a mega throwing up episode, I have a chance to be very grateful for Zofran. I haven't ever had it before, but let me tell you, it is a wonderful thing when you are sick to your stomach.
Still blogging from bed, Jo

Home?

They are saying they are going to send me home tomorrow. While I am far from well, I am on the road to recovery. I will be going home on oxygen and very lucky to just be alive. I also have to give myself shots in my stomach with Lovenox. I am sure some of you are shuddering at the thought, and I guess I could let you think I was super amazing and totally stoic. But here is the truth. If you give the shot into a stretch mark, you can't feel it at all. Nada. Since Tank was 11 pounds, I have no dearth of stretch marks, which means, painless. So, there, I told you my secret. Who knew that someday I would be very grateful for my stretch marks? I never hated them, they just were. But now, they are a blessing. Seriously.
I guess my natural stubbornness extends even to my innards. They have me on blood thinners so that I will stop making clots and allow all the ones in my lungs, (large and small) to be dissolved. Well, my liver, which is the part that makes the blood clotting factors has absolutely refused to move! My INR has remained very low, and they have been giving more and more warfarin to thin my blood. I guess my liver finally threw up a white flag today. Even though it is still low, it finally moved, which made my doctor happy. AND made him say that perhaps I can go home tomorrow.
I am a little apprehensive since Little Man's care continues to be beyond my ability, and he really wears me out. But he misses his mama most dreadfully. He keeps telling me I need to come home, and read him a story and snuggle him. Breaks my heart.
They made me take a walk tonight to assess my oxygen needs, I think I scared my poor little aide. He looks like he is 14, and when I was coughing and gasping for breath, he was way concerned. I made it back to the bed without collapsing, so I won that round. Right now, if I am in bed, and I am not moving, I can keep my oxygen saturations up by myself without any help. I can not take a step, or even roll over in bed without gasping for air, so oxygen it is. Don't think I am complaining, I am NOT. After struggling for more than a week to breathe, there is nothing I want more, than to be able to breathe without working so hard at it.
And really, I keep being told I am very, very lucky to be alive, so I am just grateful for every breath.

Games People Play

Games you can play in the hospital. Pea was here visiting today, (She misses her Bam-maw so very badly) and hid behind the curtain around the door and played hide and seek.
A great game if you are four or under.
Now if you are twenty and a boy, the games get a bit more complicated. You take the thingy you put on your finger to see how your oxygen saturation is? You take it, put it on your own finger, and hold your breath as long as you can. Then you watch the numbers on the monitor come down.
This game can be enlivened if the nurse happens to notice and come running in when the alarm bells start ringing. JJ was very proud, his best score was 86! (100 is what most people "sat" at)
Amazing how life can change suddenly. Right now, I have two things that I long for, live for, beg for, cry for. Breathing and sleep.
I love my oxygen, how wonderful it is to breathe and to feel the breath in me, and to not fight for my air. I love it. I am aware, I am grateful.
Last night I finally begged the dr to give me something better to help me sleep. I think I am in love with Ambien. Last night after I took it and I started to fall asleep, all I could feel was just joy that I was actually going to sleep! And I felt so much better when I woke up this morning. My spirits and body were renewed by some sleep. Today is the first time in weeks that I can say I actually feel like I am beginning to recover. And for now, that is enough.

Blogging From Bed

Hidey Ho my cyber neighbors. These last few weeks have been tough and it looks like it is far from over. I am currently an unwilling inmate in the hospital. I caught a cold a couple of weeks ago and I just couldn't shake it, it just got harder and harder to breathe. Yesterday, I finally alarmed a doctor enough to not just send me home, and I have multiple pulmonary emboli in my lungs. Go ask Dr google if you need more info, I am too tired to type much. I will be here for a few days at least. I am on blood thinners to help keep any more clots from forming and to allow my body to absorb these. If you are on Facebook, you can friend me at Jo In Utah.
I am so sad, I feel like I lost my 4.0 GPA. I have taken my good health for granted my whole life, and I have never been in the hospital for being sick, or ever had a surgery. Now I can't say, healthy as a horse anymore! Betrayed!
There have been so many kind calls, Flowers from my beloved Cupcake! prayers, I am undone by the love and caring. I feel so cradled in love, and I am doing my best to just get better. Love you all.
Jo