I stayed that night and the next one too. Meanwhile back at the ranch/home Baby was banging on our bedroom door saying "Mommy, Mommy" convinced she could make me come out. Also Baby was sleeping through the night. The same could not be said for those of us at the hospital.
The doctor told me the morphine reduces your desire to breathe. This stuck in my morphine addled brain. It made me think of things in my life now and in the past that I have let reduce my "desire to breathe" or constrain my life. Of course in the hospital they monitor you and when your oxygen gets too low for too long they hook you up with more. I know that the oxygen in my life is love. The same love that brings my mom up to comfort Baby, L, and C while we are gone. The love that made wish we could get home sooner than we did, and put my kids in most of my hallucinations. The love that I feel from my Heavenly Father as my husband reads scriptures by the bedside in the hospital.
We met a variety of nurses. We talked about different things, my kids, other ways of reconstruction, how dedicated my husband was, whether I would like to get up and walk and if I actually could. I threw up a variety of times, no matter what the medicine was. I thought it was funny when the nurse would ask if I had had this or that chemo nausea reducing medicine before. Of course I have, and I threw up anyway.
Eventually I kept things down, did not faint when I walked and got a handle on the pain. Then we got to go home.
The doctor told me the morphine reduces your desire to breathe. This stuck in my morphine addled brain. It made me think of things in my life now and in the past that I have let reduce my "desire to breathe" or constrain my life. Of course in the hospital they monitor you and when your oxygen gets too low for too long they hook you up with more. I know that the oxygen in my life is love. The same love that brings my mom up to comfort Baby, L, and C while we are gone. The love that made wish we could get home sooner than we did, and put my kids in most of my hallucinations. The love that I feel from my Heavenly Father as my husband reads scriptures by the bedside in the hospital.
We met a variety of nurses. We talked about different things, my kids, other ways of reconstruction, how dedicated my husband was, whether I would like to get up and walk and if I actually could. I threw up a variety of times, no matter what the medicine was. I thought it was funny when the nurse would ask if I had had this or that chemo nausea reducing medicine before. Of course I have, and I threw up anyway.
Eventually I kept things down, did not faint when I walked and got a handle on the pain. Then we got to go home.
Oh Jeni. Good likening about oxygen. I also have small hidden veins and a hard time with hospitals, surgery and pain-killers. I feel sorry that you have been hurting while we were playing in sunny Florida. Thanks for posting because I have been wondering and checking this blog. Love you.
ReplyDeleteJeni, you wrote something that I am stealing for my new mantra: "I know that the oxygen in my life is love" As I read your blog this morning, and in particular that sentence, I had tears spring out of nowhere witnessing that it is so true!! To know you is to love you. Thanks for giving me some of my oxygen. Go. Fight. Win.
ReplyDeleteGreat vinyl phrase! "The oxygen in my life is LOVE" Ooops did I just give away a gift idea to give to you Jeni ;)
ReplyDelete